Thursday 5th May. On the day I had my appointment at 4.00pm. I decided not to drive in, instead I would catch the bus. It was nothing to go into town and get to my appointment especially as I had no other shopping to do. The bus would stop at the bottom of the street and I could just walk up, past the Church, and into the Mall. Nice and easy. On the way home, I could walk through the mall, cross over the street to the bus stop. Even easier.

So here we are on Thursday 5th May – some weeks after I had made this appointment. As Greg had said to me “I’m glad it isn’t urgent” It was 3.00pm when I wandered over to the bus stop. New buses were coming – I had forgotten that our local bus company had sold out of some of the bus routes and that there would be new bus drivers still getting used to these streets.

Usually the bus would come down the hill at around 3.05, so I wasn’t too anxious when it didn’t arrive. 3.10 came and went..oh well, my appointment isn’t until 4.00 I still had plenty of time. After all, it wouldn’t take that long to travel into town. 3.15 and another lady came along and sat on the seat waiting for the bus. “Hmm…” I thought to myself “I must get myself a new bus time-table. Perhaps I was off on my timing. Perhaps they have changed the time-table a bit.”

Another lady came walking across the street. The time is now 3.20 and I am starting to worry. It usually only takes around 20 minutes to get into town, though I like to allow half an hour. I also like to be early to allow for the unexpected. I walked into one of the shops near the bus stop and asked if they had a time-table. No, they didn’t and No, they had no idea when the buses came. Someone said “I think they come every hour” I panicked. It had been a long time since I had caught a bus into town – I usually drove in and parked at the local council car park. Today I didn’t want to bother with parking a car. I thought if I went back home now, and got the car, by the time I found a parking spot in town, I would be late for my appointment. No, the only thing to do was to wait!

I phoned Breast Screen and told them I could be late. “As long as you get here before 4.30” said the receptionist “The nurse finishes then” Oh great, I have some lee-way then” I looked up the hill and still no bus.

You know what they say about watching a kettle boil – it won’t boil any quicker while you watch it. I was manifesting by 3.30! “Bus come down the hill” I repeated in a chant over and over and over….

Well, what do you know – it worked! 3.35 and the bus turned around the roundabout at the top of the street, and came rolling down the hill to our bus stop. There were now three women in front of me. I don’t know how they got in front of me, they just did. I expect they catch the bus regularly and know exactly where the bus would stop. I used to know all of these important details years ago when I used to rely on the bus to get me anywhere, now I have forgotten.

“Westfield’s thanks” I told the driver and collected my ticket, walked down the aisle and found an empty seat. I had 25 minutes to make my appointment. I should make it – it only takes 20 minutes to get in there and the five minutes to walk there. Yeah, I’ll do it easy!

Thursday 5th May. I arrived at Breast Screen right on the dot of 4.00pm. The receptionist was waiting for me and was surprised to see me on time. I was a little flustered as I had quick-stepped my way from the bus stop at Westfield Shopping Centre to the Mall and was now breathing quite heavily.

“The bus came and we made it here, although I didn’t think I’d get here in time. Wow! Right on time. That’s good”

“Just fill in these forms please and take a seat. Someone will be out to see you in a few minutes” she said nicely and pointed to the chairs along the window behind me.

I took the clip board she handed me and walked over to the nearest chair. I could catch my breath now and relax while I filled in the forms. Then I handed them back to her and went back to sit down.

“Sandy?” Another woman’s voice rang out from behind the door in front of me.

“Yes?” I answered

“Would you please come in here” she held the door open a little more as I picked up my bag and walked in to yet another waiting room.

“Just take a seat please, someone will be out in a few minutes to get you” she smiled as she walked behind yet another doorway in front of me. “Oh, you can make a cup of coffee if you like while you are waiting.” she turned her head back around and disappeared behind the screen.

“Thanks” I yelled back and thought, no, I will only need to use the ladies room before I go and that would just add more time. While I was sitting there, I saw a diary on the table with a sign “Please Take One”. It was a Woman’s Weekly Health Diary 2011. So I did take one and thought, this will be great for me to write down my appointments. Little did I realise just how much I would need a diary for all my health appointments this year.

Anyway almost as soon as she disappeared she came back and called me into the x-ray room. “Just take of the top of your clothes please and pop them on this chair, then stand in front of this machine here, and we’ll get started.”

It didn’t take long really – this mammogram. She took one, two, three pictures of my breast and had me in contortionist positions with my left arm up and around my head, then my right arm behind me and my right breast being squashed in between the two presses. Then “hold please” as the photo was taken. Then “ok, you can breathe now”

Sigh, I had to in this and various other positions for both breasts. Another three pictures later and then “okay, you can get dressed now” as she breezed into the room and told me it was all over. We will send the results to your doctor and you can see him or her for the details”

I looked at the clock on my mobile phone and was surprised to see that I had only been in there for ten minutes! That was from start to finish – from the moment I walked in to the reception area, to the end. Had time stopped still? I wasn’t sure, all I knew was that I had time to spare before the bus going home, so I could take my time wandering over to the bus stop and wait.

Once over at the bus stop, I had yet another 20 minutes to wait. It seemed that these buses were as late returning home as they were leaving. However the local free entertainment was quite good as I sat watching a young father show his son how adept he was at directing his remote controlled sports car up and down the foot path without running into anyone and then taking a chance by allowing it to run on the road alongside the foot path, then up the footway to the path and back again. He was a true dare-devil when it came to allowing it to run on the road as a few times, a car actually ventured into the left hand lane and missed his beloved motorised car by inches.

All in all, it was an eventful afternoon and I arrived home at 5.30 – just 2 hours after catching the bus into town. I thought that was quite good.

A week later, 12th May 2011 a letter arrives requesting me to return to Breast Screen for another mammogram. It was a short and sweet letter detailing my next appointment for the following Thursday 19th May.

It said something along the lines of “only a small percentage of women find something with the second mammogram and to keep in mind that this does not mean there is something to be concerned about” The gist of it all was that there was something which showed up on the first mammogram. They want me to have a repeat mammogram and possibly a biopsy if required. This is all to make certain that everything is fine.

Immediately I thought – Oh Oh! Something is wrong here. I heard the warning bells, though did not pay enough attention to the detail of these bells. I told Greg about the letter and read it out to him, then phoned up to confirm the appointment. Thursday 19th May 8.30am. This was suddenly not right. It was early, I thought they didn’t start until 9.00am, so an early one like this was something to be concerned about. I wasn’t sure, the letter said not to be alarmed, though all my senses had suddenly piqued as though there was something to be alarmed of.

I put the letter in my shoulder bag and went about the rest of the day’s business. Though I definitely was not happy about it and had a very deep feeling of apprehension.

This appointment was for 8.30am on Thursday 19th May. Two weeks had passed since the first one. I was beginning to be a little apprehensive. I had tried not to show it to anyone, much less to tell my mother about it. I had no idea what “They” would find. As the letter said anyway “it is a mere formality that we ask you to have a second mammogram. Most women have this, it does not mean Cancer will be found….”

Now I had to have the second mammogram. I was first requested to enter into the waiting room and given a gown to wear. I was also given a key to a locker where I could put my bag, purse, and top half of my clothes while I waited for the nurse to come and introduce herself.

“Hello, my name is Ruth and I’m your nurse here” she smiled at me. A lovely warm smile, although her soft voice was friendly, I had trouble hearing her with the acoustics of the room. Still, I smiled in return to her and she lead me into a small cubicle where she had me sign some more forms and explained to me that I was going to have a second mammogram. That dependent upon the results of this mammogram, I may need to have a biopsy to my breast and would I approve of this happening etc…

I tried to stop her from telling me too much as I could feel the small amount that I had eaten for breakfast slowly coming back to repeat on me. The thought of the biopsy troubled me and I was determined this would not happen to me. So I signed my life away here and there where required to and begged her to only tell me what was absolutely necessary.

She then led me to the room for my x-rays and left me with another lady who was a different radiologist to the one I had seen a fortnight ago. I noticed the thread bare patch of carpet from the x-ray machine to the door and commented on it. “Yes,” she said “we’re debating whether to get new carpet, or to just patch it up as we will be moving this year soon. They are going to be renovating the mall and everyone will be moving. We haven’t found a new home yet though” She was very matter of fact about all of this as she manoeuvred me and my body so that she could get the best x-rays possible of my right breast. “Put your head in this position, and move your right arm over here..no…over here…yes, that’s right…then place your left arm by your side..no don’t turn toward me..just stand front on looking at the machine…no, place your head in this position…” and so on. It seems like I was doing contortions in order to get the best possible position. I was glad I wasn’t going to stay in this position for long, just that every position took at least 1-2 minutes to manoeuvre me to it.

Then it was over for a little while and I was directed back to the waiting room where I was tempted to get myself a hot drink. “Sandy” a voice called out from the back of the waiting room “Ah yes, Sandy, sorry, we need to take another few pictures please. Come on through” she put her arm behind me and gently coerced me into the x-ray room where three more x-rays were taken.

I picked up a magazine from the table and sat down to read about the fashionable actors in the US on the red carpet of the latest movie release. I wasn’t there for long when Ruth came out to get me. She had a great smile on her face which made her eyes light up the room. She ushered me into the same small cubicle again and bade me sit down on one of the other chairs. She sat down opposite me and put some forms down in front of me.

This time, she started to read out some more of the details we went through when I first arrived here today. She told me that I would need to have an ultrasound next. That it wouldn’t be painful, just a little cold perhaps. That in the event that they could still not determine the results, that I may have to have a biopsy. She told me that I needed to understand about a biopsy and that it would be by needle and that it was important I understand what was about to take place and did I give my consent to all of this. I tried to tell her not to tell me too much as I was getting a little anxious about everything. I didn’t understand about the biopsy, however a doctor came in and told me that I needed to have an ultrasound and that there was a possibility of a biopsy as well. She told me that I would be fine, it wouldn’t take long and we needed to do it now.

That was all very good and proper for them – the very thought of having a needle scared some life out of me and the palms of my hands were getting cold and wet just responding to everything. It was like I didn’t have a choice right now. It was a necessary evil and one I didn’t like the sound of at all. Ruth handed me the forms to sign and date. I did sign and date them even though I was pretty much in a daze with a little too much necessary information.

I was ushered into another room with a bed and I could see the all the machines for the ultrasound. Well, I had of these ultrasounds on my breast about ten years back. I remembered that it didn’t hurt. What could be the problem after all…I didn’t know. It wasn’t painful, just cold with the gel they use, otherwise it was okay. Yes, I would be fine. Just relax and lie down and let the doctor do all the work.

I had to leave the top half of my clothes off to give them access to my breast. I lay down facing them. Although it was my left breast that was closest to them. Never the less, the doctor managed to manoeuvre around me to smear some very cold gel on my breast and then had her scanner close that she could see what was happening on her monitor. I tried to watch the screen as well so I could see what was going on. I don’t like to be left in the dark. She didn’t say very much and Ruth was in the room with us just keeping me company more than anything.

About 20 minutes into this scanning, they left me on my own for a few minutes so I took the opportunity to lay back and do a quick grounding meditation with my breathing. This was all getting to be a bit more than I thought it would be. “Breathe!” I said to myself “Breathe In, breathe Out” I was relaxing more on the out breath. This was helping my state of mind. All I had to do was to wait.

It wasn’t too long before the doctor came back in, with Ruth trailing behind her. The look on their faces was rather solemn. I didn’t like what was about to happen. No! Not at all.

“Sandra..” the doctor started off with my name, that was always a bad sign…

“I’m afraid we found some small calcified nodules. It isn’t unusual for this, it sometimes happens with some women. In your case…” she left out the ‘however’. There is always a ‘however’ during these types of conversations…

“…we need to do a biopsy. This is with a needle where we stick it into your breast just where the nodule is and we syringe up a little of this nodule so we can find out what is in it.” It is pretty much a blur from then on. She was talking about putting a needle right into my tender, very sensitive breast. Did she not know that it is very soft tissue there??? I was in shock. I am certain that she could see all the colour drain out from my face.

I began to feel quite ill and asked for a bin please. “Why do you want a bin” she asked a little sternly.

“So I can be sick” I retorted to her in a very firm voice. I even surprised myself at how much control I had within me to say it that way.

They got me a dish. One of those ‘needle holders’. I thought that was too small, though I took it anyway and the retching began forthwith. Not much there though, as I hadn’t had anything to eat that morning, feeling anxious about what may be found this time. In the pit of my stomach, somewhere deep inside of my psyche I just knew this was not going to have a happy ending.

“Are you okay now?” she asked once I had stopped retching

“No, not at all, I feel sick…” I hoped I could get out of this somehow…”I think I’m going to faint” I was lying down, there was no better place for me to be than where I was right now if I was going to faint. I could go no further than where I was. I was so wishing that Greg was with me though. He was always my rock. Now I was on my own – HECK! WHAT WAS I THINKING???

“You’d feel better if you just relaxed. Just lie down here and relax. We’ll leave you for a few minutes…would you like a blanket?” she added as an afterthought.

“Yes please, thank you…sorry…I’m sorry…” I managed to stumble out

“Don’t be sorry, you’re being very brave…” she went out and came back shortly with a blanket to place on me. It felt nice and warm. I just wanted to curl up and die right there. The world didn’t really need me…or did it??

They both came back in – the doctor and Ruth the nurse. “How are you doing now?” asked the doctor. Ruth took my hand in hers and sat down and smiled at me as I looked at her. I looked at her hand holding mine. It was reassuring. I felt so silly falling apart just then, I couldn’t help myself really.

“I’m okay now. I’m gonna need to hold someone’s hand though. Can I hold someone’s hand please?” I was feeling quite desperate. Anxiously desperate. Greg would have been there to let me hold his hand, encouraging me to squeeze. I tried to breathe deeply.

“Don’t breathe too deeply” warned the doctor “we don’t want you passing out now” Of course we didn’t. That would never do. What kind of panic would I be placing on everyone by fainting now???

“Ok” I feebly mumbled

“You can hold Ruth’s hand if you like” said the doctor. She went about moving me into position that she would be able to use the needle to syringe out this stuff that was in my breast. “I’m going to give you a local anaesthetic on your breast, then we’re going to wait a few minutes for that to work before I use the biopsy needle.”

Somewhere in there, she had explained to me that the needle they would be using was a thin hollow needle that would suck of the nodule that they would be taking samples of. I didn’t want to know about this very much. The word needles was the focal point of which I was terrified. As soon as I heard this – together with the hollow needle, my very over active imagination started and I was driving like a maniac on both sides of the road. The word needles was the ignition and I could not work out how to turn it off!

“Can I hold your hand Ruth?” I wasn’t feeling very brave right now “I’m worried if I hurt your hand…” I said as I looked at my hand holding hers. I then realised that I hadn’t let it go since she came back into the room.

“Oh, it’s alright. Don’t worry about me” she said

“We only hire strong nurses with strong hands” said the doctor “You’re doing just fine” she reassured me again.

“You’re very brave” said Ruth “Don’t look at the needle, just squeeze my hand as much as you need”

Ruth is the kind of woman who is very approachable and very strong – that is all inside of her. On the outside, you would think that this slight woman would not have much strength at all. It is not really physical strength, it is inner fortitude. She also has a wonderful calm serenity that can sometimes be quite contagious. Unfortunately for both her and me, my terror of what was about to take place was even greater than her calming energy and it took much of my might and ‘I CAN DO THIS’ attitude to get through it.

In went the first needle and I thought I must have ‘wringed’ her hand out like a facecloth. I remember screaming as I felt the tears roll down my face. I was in pain. there was no doubt of that. Ruth tried in vain to talk about my ‘children’. They are of course my precious Goldie and Buddy.

For a while that worked and she managed to take my mind off the fact that ‘IT’ really hurt like crazy. That of course, was only the anaesthetic. Now the biopsy needle was going in.

“OOOOOOOWWWWWEEEEEE” I yelled out, “it HUUURRTS” I was writhing in pain. The doctor had this needle stuck in my breast and was desperately trying to calm me down so that I wouldn’t move. She was worried that I would make it worse for myself than was needed.

She was busy telling Ruth to hold me down, trying valiantly to hold me, the needle and get the vials in place so that she could retrieve the samples she needed for the biopsy. Finally, after what seemed an absolute eternity of pain, anxiety and more pain, the trauma ended and the needle came out. “All done” smiled the doctor. “You’re a very brave woman” she said a little patronisingly. I was in no mood to get angry and instead accepted it graciously

“Thank you. I’m ssssoooorry” I got out through my tears and sobs. “I’m sssoorry” it was all that I could say. I was so very sorry that I was reduced to such a sobbing mess. If I had of been wearing mascara – it would have made my eyes look very black and blotchy. As it was, I could feel my face being very red and blotchy. Good thing I didn’t wear make up much these days.

“Don’t be sorry, dear” reassured Ruth “You did a good thing. We had to get the samples for the biopsy. It’s all over now” It was nice to hear a friendly voice after all of this trauma. What did I have to tell Greg when I got back home now.

“When you feel ready, you can get up and get dressed and go back to the waiting room. Just lie there for a little while though” she said. Both Ruth and the doctor left me there while I tried to get myself together again.

I was feeling a little better. So I sat up and found my clothes. Got my bearings and organised myself. I found my bag with my purse in it and my Medicare card. I had already used this so I didn’t need to have it anymore. I started to put my clothes on and get dressed when Ruth came back in with her friendly smile.

“Are you okay now?” she asked in her lovely soft voice.

“Yes, I’m fine” which wasn’t the truth, I was feeling quite miserable. The trauma of all these needles and the memory of somewhere in amongst all of this trauma as a mention of cancerous cells. Did I have cancer? They hadn’t said. It was more to themselves than to me. No mention officially to me of cancer..now I just had to wait.

As I walked out to the waiting room, Ruth made another appointment for me for the following Thursday at 10.30am. That is when the Doctor – a different Doctor – would come and discuss the results with me. It would take a week for them to check the biopsy and get the results back. A WHOLE WEEK??? I was aghast. If I  had cancer, shouldn’t I be in hospital getting it out? Shouldn’t someone be doing something about it by now?? Fear was creeping into my very soul.

Ruth handed me her card with the appointment time on the back. “If you need to talk to someone about this, please ring me. Any time.” She jotted down her mobile on the back of the card. “Any time she told me.”

I walked out of the Breast Screen shop in shock. I felt sick in the stomach and I was crying as slowly…very slowly the full aspect of what had happened was sinking in. I had to walk through the rest of the mall. I didn’t want to catch the bus home. I phoned Greg and through the tears…asked him to pick me up from the car park. Near where he had dropped me off.

My breast was still sore. Outside, the day was still cool. It was around 10.00am I could just vaguely make out the time on my phone. I didn’t confirm or deny what was said to Greg yet.  Thoughts were going through my head – don’t tell him. He’ll be fine. I’ll just keep going the same way and hope for the best. Do tell him, he’ll give me a cuddle, I’ll still be fine. I didn’t know what to do, except to keep walking through the mall, out into the street where the sunshine of the day hit me hard.

How could it be such a beautiful day? Didn’t God know I was in pain? Didn’t he know that everything should be subdued. It should be over cast, the clouds should be in synch with my heart, with my pain and anxiety.

It wasn’t. I kept walking – crossing the street, walking over to the bus stop. I would not be catching the bus home today. I walked through the car park and down to the entrance where Greg had dropped me off. I waited. It seemed like an eternity before I saw the car driving down the street toward the car park. I tried to move out of the way and allow him to drive in the drive way. I had to move – there was another car pulling in that actually wanted to park somewhere. Greg pulled up a bit further in and I pulled open the door and jumped in, still with wet tears on my face.

I manoeuvred the car into position and had to drive around the block of the parking lot. Then we were on our way home. I didn’t tell him they mentioned Cancer. He probably guessed it. I don’t know as we have not yet discussed that day. It is ancient history. It happened – I lived through it – I am still alive.

I am a Breast Cancer survivor!

It was the following week. The appointment was for 10.30. It as a cold day and we drove into town together and parked at the council car park. It was easier to do this, although we had to cut through town to get to Breast Screen. I was anxious to get there and see the Doctor. I thought it would have been the same one I saw last week. It was only a week ago that I had that horrible biopsy. This would probably be something of a short meeting, just telling me that everything was alright. I wouldn’t have anything to worry about. I would be cancer free. It would have been a mistake what they saw last week….

We arrived at Breast Screen and the time was 10.20, We had just made it, the doctor would be in and we wouldn’t have to wait for long. That was a relief. It was a quick pace that we had walked through the car park, through another mall, then to here. It all seemed to go very slowly.

I approached the receptionist and mentioned my 10.30am appointment. She asked me to have a seat and mentioned that the Doctor was on his way, that he was running late this morning. “HE” I thought? “HE”. A man doctor was coming in here to see me about my breasts? I was told just last week that Greg would not have been allowed in to even hold my hand as he was a male! Now there is a male doctor coming to see me???

We sat and waited. I saw Ruth come into the office. She smiled as she walked past me. I saw various other medical people who looked important. There couldn’t me more than one male person coming here for the purpose of the Breast Screen, surely. This seemed to be an almost all female area of health. What would a male doctor be doing coming here?

Time went on…other patients who looked as anxious and drawn as I felt came in and sat down. Some with their partners, some with their children. I wondered how they could bring their children to a place like this…then I thought, well…they are probably some of the lucky ones who don’t have this cloud hanging over their heads…

I breathed deeply and tried to be positive. I squeezed Greg’s hand and he returned the squeeze. “It’ll be alright” he said softly to me. I didn’t think so, though it was nice that he said so…

Finally a man whom appeared to look like a doctor came in –the time was 11.15. He was very late. There were other patients to see him. Some even before me. This was going to be a long day. However, after waiting just another fifteen minutes, Ruth came into the waiting room and ushered us both into one of those small cubicles. I caught Greg’s hand again – for morale support. I was thinking of him as well as myself. I didn’t like the look/sound/feel of what was happening now and ominous clouds were beginning to gather around our heads.

“Hello Sandy” Ruth started to say.

“This is Greg – Greg, Ruth” I introduced them to each other. They smiled pleasantries and then Ruth looked at me

“How are you feeling?” she asked nicely

I thought this was a silly question. I was anxious for today to be over and done with – hurry up and cut to the chase I thought. “I’m fine” was all I could muster. I was not in the mood for pleasantries. She went on and explained some things about what was going to happen. I didn’t hear very much at all. I was looking at her, watching her face, searching for any details of answers that I wanted.

Finally a man – this doctor – walked into the cubicle and introduced himself. I can only remember him vaguely, so let’s call him Dr T. He had a nice quiet manner, was softly spoken, very polite and appeared friendly. However he had some x-rays that he was showing us. I vaguely remember looking at them…trying to hear what he had to say was more difficult.

He mentioned the Cancer word and that caught my attention.  “The good news is that it is only a small one, just 10mm in size. We’ve caught it early and it is a slow growing one. It is grade 3 of grade 2.” he paused…I looked at him. He looked at me. I suppose he was looking for some kind of acknowledgement that I understood what he was saying. Greg started to ask questions. I can’t remember the conversation in detail. Most of it is a blur now – just a few months later.

I wanted to know if I would need Chemotherapy. He told me “if I was a betting man, I would say No, you will not need chemotherapy.” he would have lost that bet. Never the less, I had to think. This is serious business. This is Cancer. Breast Cancer. This thing in my breast was real. He said 10mm was quite small. I begged to differ with him. Having been in the Gemstone & Jewellery Industry for over 25 years, I know the size of gemstones and 10mm is NOT SMALL! I was visualising a 10mm round cabochon made of Black Onyx. I don’t know why that stone came through for me, I could see it very clearly in my mind’s eye. 10mm round is DEFINITELY NOT SMALL!

He tried to calm me down and told me that I was lucky that it was caught early. He told me that “Ruth here, will fill in the details for you and answer any other questions that you may have” I looked at Ruth. She is a lovely woman. A lovely warm and compassionate nurse. However i was now in shock and had no idea what questions I should be asking. I left that for Greg. I don’t remember very well what questions he asked. I don’t even think either of us thought to ask the all important “What next?” question.

Then I seemed to have “come to” again. “Okay, we’ll call in to see the doctor this afternoon and we’ll go from there…” I said to this doctor and turned to look at Greg.

“Yes” was all he said. I think we were both a little stunned with the results. He was more clear headed though than me. All I could think of was to get to the next step. “Can I take these x-rays with me to show my doctor” I asked

“Yes, though make sure you keep them after he has seen them” said the doctor here.

“okay” I said and picked them up and stood up ready to leave. I looked across to Greg. Yes, he was getting up too. “yes, we’ll call in to see the doctor on the way home” he said.

It was just 12.20pm and it was Thursday. “I will have to phone up and make an appointment.” I told Greg “he doesn’t bulk bill on Thursdays.”

As I had just found this new doctor only a few weeks ago, I still had his card in my purse. I got it out and phoned his receptionist, J, and asked for an appointment first thing this afternoon. He re-opens his surgery after lunch at 2.00pm, J gave us a 2.30 appointment.

We walked out of the Breast Screen Office and through the mall toward the car park again. It was an easier walk. There was no sense of urgency. I was crying, the tears were flowing as though a drought had broken. I couldn’t control my emotions. The only thoughts swimming around in my head involved cancer. Not death, as I later would have thought, yet cancer.

We drove home silently, stunned, and in shock. It seemed a long drive home.

Neither of us felt much like eating. I put the kettle on at home, it seemed like the best thing to do. We had breakfast late this morning, that’s why we were running late. So now we didn’t feel like even looking at food.

We didn’t talk about this news – this event which had just happened to threaten our safe life, our plans, our dreams…what ever else there was. We just didn’t talk about this CANCER. We talked about going to see the doctor – we didn’t know what else there would be. There was some talk of me contacting a friend who had been recovering from Breast Cancer. Perhaps she would be a good person to talk too. Just for some positive feed back. I wasn’t sure.

At 1.30 we drove the ten minutes to Dr P.K.’s surgery and waited in the car parked across the road for a while. Greg had a smoke, then we got out and walked over. I was holding onto the x-rays, feeling anxious and not really knowing what was going to happen.

J greeted us when she re-opened the doors with a ready smile. She is a lovely friendly and outgoing receptionist. “Just take a seat, doctor won’t be long” she said. There was only one other patient before me so we wouldn’t have to wait long. Sure enough, the door opened again as that patient walked out and Dr P.K. called “come in Sandy” he had one of his friendly smiles on as well as a friendly soft voice. Although I did notice his eyes were a little dark and anxious looking. He must have received the results already for he sat us both down in his office and got onto the phone straight away requesting results be forwarded to him now.

He asked for the x-rays and put them on the screen for a better look. I didn’t have to say anything, he virtually took control of the situation. It was something that we were both impressed with as well as grateful. To not be further traumatised by a conversation, we had no answers for, was – a Godsend.

He put the x-rays down and told us that I needed a referral to a good surgeon. The surgeon he recommended as “of course you will have to see Dr R. who is the best around these parts” he went through his address book on his computer and phoned Dr R.’s surgery. A few moments later, he had hung up and said, “No that’s no good, his surgery is only open Tuesdays and Wednesdays. That’s too long to wait, by the time you ring on Tuesday, to book an appointment, it could be another week.” He continued looking through his address book on his computer and went on…d..g..h…ahhh…Dr. H.” then another phone call to this doctor’s office and…”I’ve got a woman here who has just been diagnosed with Breast Cancer and she needs to see the surgeon as soon as possible…” was heard as part of the conversation. Greg and I looked at each other. This was truly a good doctor to have. I was so glad that I had found Dr. P.K. in the last month. If it wasn’t for Dr T’s insistence from the Women’s Health Centre that I find myself a regular family doctor, I would not be here now, feeling safe and secure in the knowledge that I was in good hands. It is not easy to find a good reliable family doctor and when I had gone through the Yellow Pages recently, many of them were no longer accepting new patients. So when Dr P.K.’s receptionist told me with a ready smile in her voice that Dr P.K. would be happy to see me, I jumped. Especially as his surgery was just ten minutes from home.

Dr P.K. switched the line to his receptionist – J – to make the appointment and set the details for us with Dr H. the surgeon. He looked at me and we had a further talk about my breast cancer. I also asked him what I should do with the blood test we had scheduled for my sugar test. “I don’t think you need to worry about that right now, do you?” he asked

“No, I guess not” I answered quite relieved I wouldn’t have to go for yet another blood test for anything at all…I hated needles and the thought of getting three or four of these within two hours made my stomach tighten.

“All you have to do now is to get yourself well enough to see Dr. H. on Wednesday and discuss the surgery. Ahh, yes, of course,the surgery. I was not thinking of that. I had no idea what to expect again. Dr. P.K. could not shed light, or perhaps would not shed light on what to expect – “better to go and discuss it with Dr. H.” he said.

“Thank you so very much Dr. P.K. I said as I got up and picked up my x-rays. He shook Greg’s hand and smiled at me. Greg asked if he wanted to see me again, and he said “no, only if something is wrong, she doesn’t feel well..otherwise..no” he told Greg.

Now we just had to wait until Wednesday the following week. That would be a long wait. A very long, long, week indeed.

Friday came and went. It was pretty much a blur. Life seemed to have become a blur from now on. I phoned my mother and told her. She took it hard, though am glad to say that I found relief in that fact. I thought she may have been a little cooler than she was. It was good to hear the concern in her voice and know that.