The waiting game.

So, the next bad thing about having cancer reveals itself.... the waiting game. Didn't anticipate this part being so stressful. Glad I've had plenty of other things to occupy my mind since being diagnosed with cancer. Telling my relatives and friends wasn't at all nice, I felt so responsible for their sadness and shock but I couldn't not tell people. I had to spread the word. That Tuesday consisted of telling everyone and it seemed to drag on forever. Eventually, my close family were assembled at home - and that telling look of shock and despair was evident on their faces. This is doing my head in, it feels like a wake, my wake. I'm not dead, I'm not dying, I'm not ill and I don't need self pity today. I need support and reassurance that everything will be ok. It could be so much worse I keep telling them, plenty of other things kill you you know....

I don't think my family could understand my positiveness on that day. I can completely understand and empathise with their shock at the news as I feel the same but I need to keep a grip on myself because I've got a lot to face yet and I don't know how much worse it's going to get. I couldn't stand it if anyone started crying or shouting about the unfairness of it all. So I send them all away and my husband and I go to Tesco's for our comfort food tea - pizza and wine.

I'm browsing the wine aisle at the supermarket. "Do you mind if I buy some wine" I ask him. I don't usually drink that much and I don't want to drink myself to death or start on a road of ruin but really could do with something I enjoy. I pick up my favorite bottle of Rose wine, but my husband interrupts, "I think you need a box of wine, not a bottle!!" And all this from my anti-drinking tee total husband! I think he's amazing!!

So the next day my husband has the day off work and I have to go back to the hospital for mammogram and chest x-ray. Still don't know what further surgery I'm going to have. Can't believe I might have to lose my breasts. It's such an unknown feeling, having to face the prospect of no boobs and facing the rest of your life without them. But this situation is SO out of my control, can't even imagine getting through today let alone next week or next month so will not think about it yet. My appointment is in the afternoon and my parents also accompany me. We all sit in the waiting room, all sat in a line feeling pretty glum and miserable. What a sight we must have been, my husband gripping the plastic 'patient's property' bag, my Mom and Dad making small talk and me with a theatre gown on - you know the sort, open all at the back and I'm just contemplating my breast being squashed into the machine....

Mammogram done, next chest xray. I suppose the surgeon wants to check there's no other nasties in my chest - let's hope there's nothing there except my swinging brick of a heart. I'm incapable of any emotion except black fury. The young radiographer is smily and jokey as I enter the room for my xray and asks if I could be pregnant.

"I hope not," I say bluntly. "I've got breast cancer."

Wish I never said that!!!! I felt so bad for venting my anger and frustration on someone who is meerly doing their job. I should know better with my job as a midwife. I shouldn't use my anger and sadness at my situation on others. I must try harder. Maybe I said a prayer that day, I'm not sure now when I started praying about test results but I might of murmured a few choice words whilst I was being zapped.

The frustration inside me is building up and I just want answers to it all. The next few days consist of a few visitors, coffees with neighbours and organising my fate. I liase with the breast care nurses over the phone about my results and next operation and wait whilst my fate is discussed, decided and pondered. Then, a small chink of light on the horizon appears.

"The surgeon is happy to perform a lumpectomy only," the breast care nurse says. "The mammogram and chest xray were fine and the surgeon is quite happy to perform a lumpectomy and axillary clearance."

"There's a 20% chance that the margins (area of tissue with no cancer cells in it) won't be clear after this op and then you might need a mastectomy, but we won't know that until the results are back from the lab the week following the surgery"

More waiting but hey!! Odds of 80%! I'd take them anyday! I didn't realise until that conversation that I had been so worried about losing my breast but the relief is palpable.

My surgery is booked for the Wednesday and I'm left to get things ready at home. We spend the weekend stocking up the freezer and I cook a few meals to freeze. Even though my husband is perfect, he's not best pleased at the idea of cooking our meals so we take out shares in Findus crispy pancakes and Mr Brains faggots!! It's going to be a busy week.