The Diary: Cancer Will Not Win. Chapter 1: Diagnosis

The day this entire tale started was a day like any other. It was a Friday in October.

I woke up, went to the bathroom as I always did. I looked in the mirror and noticed something weird.

My left breast, the bottom corner was pulled in where it should go out.

I was concerned and called to my husband, Connor, to check that it wasn’t a normal thing.

Nope, that’s not normal.

We agreed that I should schedule a doctors appointment if it hadn’t gone by Monday.

Sunday evening, I checked again. I’d been massaging it a little just to make sure it wasn’t a fat deposit or something gone wrong. Nope; the corner was still pulled in.

My GP’s office is closed over the weekend, so I scheduled an appointment for the Monday afternoon online, which was easy enough.

Monday came, I went to my GP and described the issue. He said it’s better to be safe than sorry, and sent me off with an ultrasound referral. He said that this was the best course of action for someone younger than 45, because it’s hard to detect anomalies with mammograms due to younger women having more dense breast tissue.

We chatted a bit about early diagnoses. He told me he had another young patient who had recently been diagnosed as well, so age doesn't matter.

I made the appointment for the ultrasound the same day, for that Friday.

Friday came and went, and so did the ultrasound. I could feel the tech stopping to check areas of concern, and I had a feeling in my gut that I knew what the outcome would be. They conveniently had their breast specialist in the same day, so they brought him in to check the scans.

He noted that the majority of the spots that had shown up (the little black void sections on the ultrasound) were non vascular, which sounded like a good thing from the way he said it. But then he noted a large mass in my right breast that appeared benign, and one in the left - the area of concern - that he was more concerned about.

I was told that I would need to have a biopsy to confirm the results, which would need to be another referral from my GP once he received the results.

I left the imaging clinic and booked another GP appointment. for the following Tuesday - they told me the report would likely take up to 3 days.

I spoke with my GP again that day about my concerns - he was very happy to address them for me - and he sent me on my way for the biopsy referral.

The entire time this was going on, I still took clients, did all of this in my spare time as much as I could, and kept a straight face. I had only told Connor, my best friend and a couple of people what was going on because I didn't want to put anything up on socials at this point in case the tests came back negative. Have you ever had that feeling that someone will just tear you down for no reason? I had a good reason to feel that way, since October was a crazy month for that. But that's beside the point.

I had to wait just over a week and a half to get in for my biopsy. I went into the clinic before I started work - I moved my client back that day so that I had time to do it.

They asked me again to undress my top half, and they gave me some local anaesthetic for the areas they would biopsy.

The injections are sharp and sting, but only for a second. After that, I only felt the pressure.

The entire process the nurse made sure I was comfortable, funnily enough, most of my doctors have been males during this process, and every single one has been nothing short of professional, but she wanted to make sure I was still comfortable with the doctor in the room.

They stabbed the biopsy needle - they called it a core biopsy - into my chest, both the right and left areas of concern just to be safe. It was weird. It felt tlike pressure was being dug into my chest, and it seemed like it took forever to get the three samples of each that they needed.

They explained that the reason for three samples of each was so they could make sure it was an accurate reading, which makes complete sense.

After the biopsy was complete, they told me that the results would take up to three working days to reach my GP, so I should make an appointment for around Thursday the next week.

I paid - it was around $800 for the two biopsies (oof) and left to go start work. I very much appreciate that this whole process can be done around my work - I have a certain type of freedom to move clients around as needed to suit the schedule.

I worried over the weeked, as anyone would. All the "what ifs" in my head spinning around. I did the research on the rate of breast cancer in women 30-45. It's really low, 27 in 100,000 cases. Crazy, right?

But every day, 3 women under 40 are diagnosed. This should serve as a warning to all the ladies out there to make sure you're getting yourself checked out if anything abnormal happens.

On the next Monday, after a weekend of tossing and turning, I got a call from my GP's office asking me to come in the next day. I couldn't, because i had a full day of work and the GP's office is about a half hour from the studio, so i asked for a phone appointment - they agreed. I guess it was urgent after all.

The next day, I had to schedule time in between my clients so that I could take the call. I ended up taking longer with my first client that day, so I had to step out.

Connor was at work, even though it was his day off, so he could be with me during the call.

I answered the phone, and took it to an empty room in the studio with him.

The doctor's voice on the other line "I got the results, and it's not good."

A pain struck through my chest.

"You have cancer."

The three words that changed my life, and not in a good way.

I had never thought that this would be my lot in life. Honestly, it's all still crazy to me, it feels like I'm a whole other person with my treatment. That that's not me, it's someone else.

The rest of the phone call was a blur. The Doctor still wanted to see me in person to talk about what was next, to answer my questions and make sure I was okay, so I scheduled an in person appointment for that Thursday.

The rest of the day felt like a barrage of nothingness.

I finished the work with my client, called my parents to tell them, crying of course, I was in shock. Did the rest of my work, and went home.

I spoke to my best friend, Fae, since she was on her way back from New Zealand, and told her the news since she knew everything. Connor told our other best friend and his family so I didn't have to. It was the start of a lot of work for the both of us.

Thursday's appointment was a blur. I didn't really get much information, other than a referral. We thought that that would be talking about the treatment, but there was nothing else to do but wait.

Next chapter: Appointments and Genetics.