Here we go again.......

Wednesday 15th May – Round 3 at the Marsden.

Another 5am start. I accept full responsibility for these hideous early starts as it was my choice for referral but, that said, it’s bloody hard when the alarm goes off and I haven’t had much sleep! Another quiet trip up the motorway with matchsticks in the eyes, both lost in our thoughts – or perhaps Wayne was just concentrating on staying awake!  Today they were anxious thoughts - about what we will discover this time. Nearing the hospital, it all becomes too much and I completely break down. I was scared again. Fear of the unknown.

Schedule for today:
CT scan.
Radioactive Injection for bone scan.
Holistic therapist – massage.
Bone scan (2 hrs later).
Meet with Surgeon – results.

On arrival, I drool a little watching Wayne eat some breakfast… humph! Nil by mouth for me – bone scan instructions! It’s important to feed the driver though, right? Then straight to CT for cannulation and scan. It’s the half polo mint where, mid way through, they inject you with dye, which proceeds to give you a hot flush and a weeing sensation (I hadn't by the way), followed by a few breathing instructions. All pretty straight forward though – check, able to cope with that!

Next stop: radioactive medicine. More needles - this time the radioactive fluid. A little sting and then a funky fluorescent yellow wrist band. I’m off to my own radioactive festival - yey! Actually, me and half the hospital, I’m sure. I was glowing more than Lila’s glow-worm ha. Then, the bombshell: “Just to remind you, you should not go near children or pregnant women for 24hrs.” Hold on….. no one warned me of this. I’ve got TWO children just for the record. Can C get anymore inconvenient? Just marvelous. It’s 11am now so no good morning cuddles for me tomorrow… Sad face.

Thank goodness, I’m booked in with the lovely holistic therapist next for bit of pampering. Yes, that’s right, a back massage sandwiched in between all this horrible, invasive stuff. Sadly, it didn’t feel too good as she kept touching my numb arm - however, it’s a lovely thought, nicer surroundings and I get stocked up on more aromatherapy smelling salts (she makes up a concoction as to your needs – major sleep issues in my case!). I’m rejuvenated and ready to go again (sort of), but starting to feel a little jaded by now, which actually is just as well as it’s bone scan time. What a weird one. Lying on the narrow couch, they prepare me for the what’s coming…
“Nicola, we need you not to move for the next 30-45 mins while the scan is taking place.”
Well, anyone that knows me will understand the enormous panic that came over me. NOT MOVE?? That’s near on impossible for me for 1 minute let alone 45!! Jesus. Immediately I got an itch, then another and another.
“Ok Nicola, the scan is beginning.”
Heeeeelp! Then suddenly, out of nowhere, as if someone had placed headphones on me, my head filled with the most beautiful song, stuck on repeat.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CJA69C6SlRk

I completely zoned out, persuaded the itches to go away and even managed to nod off for a micro second. The sheer and utter exhaustion had its plus sides. Hoorah, job done.
Last stop of the day – meeting with the surgeon. Nerves and jitters swallowed me up but she didn't keep us waiting with the good news that she had successfully managed to cut out all the C. Major phew – this means no more ops. Next good news – the C spread to 2 out of 20 lymphs. Could be a lot worse, right?
We also learn:
Name of cancer: Invasive ductal ER, Pr, HER2 negative = Triple negative cancer. Mmmm have been advised not to Google this.
Its aggressive (surgeons words)
Stage 2.
Grade 3.
2.8cm tumor.

Then the dreaded statistics: We learn if the cancer returns, it is more likely to return to my liver, lung or bone than anywhere else. I have a 20-30% chance of its return. Apparently, that is good. Sounds shit to me.
And finally, they address the wound. Apparently, the leakage I’ve experienced puts me in the minority - what should happen is that your body reabsorbs the fluid. Mine, on the other hand, decided to make a little hole in the weakest part of the wound and discard the fluid this way. Nice. So, two surgeons in the room examining me – and I detect they are feeling a little sorry for what I've had to go through – come up with the brain wave of re-stitching! Mixed feelings about this - relieved as I really thought they were going to whisk me back to theatre but, on the other hand, cross as I was pretty over needles at this point in the day. However, if there’s a chance it will work – bring it on! Lots of deep breathing, local anaesthetic and seven bright blue stitches later and we are rockin right outta there!

I’m on a bit of a high (if that’s possible in C world) – I think I’m just so pleased that it was only 2 lymphs and that they got it all out that I completely glossed over the stats side of things. Wayne, on the other hand, isn't. He feels devastated at the talk of the C returning and comes out feeling shaken and low.
We hit the road and stop off for well-earned pint - first drink, I may add. Ok, so I couldn't wait for Scotland but did do a good couple of weeks - pat on the back!!  Yet again, we fell into bed with our heads swirling. 1-0 to C world for frazzling our brains…again!