Like It or Lump It

About 9 weeks ago I found – or to be more accurate, BN2 found – a lump on the side of my right breast. That first time, I didn’t want to feel it.

Then he found it again, and he made me touch it. It was hard, but with a bit of give. It felt exactly the way my face does when something huge and nasty is about to appear – like if I only squeeze it hard enough that will be the end of it.

It never works on my face, and I didn’t try it on the breast. It took me a couple of weeks, but I booked a GP appointment, and was unlucky enough to get the most unsympathetic (male) doctor I’ve ever seen. He told me he only had 10 minutes for me so I’d better get on with telling him what the problem was, and then he told me women in their 30s have lumpy breasts. My grandmother – my father’s mother – died of breast cancer in her 40s. I insisted on a scan.

A few weeks went by, and no referral letter. I called the doctor’s surgery several times – notable only because all I wanted to do was to sweep this whole thing under the carpet and pretend it didn’t exist. If I didn’t get a referral letter, then I wouldn’t have to find out.

I had my appointment this morning. There is indeed a lump. It is tender to the touch. And there is not a corresponding lump (or lumpiness) in the other breast – apparently it would be less of a cause for concern if both breasts were lumpy.

I had tears running down my face, and I can’t help worrying about the fact that the doctor saw that and didn’t tell me all the other things it could be besides cancer. She said usually they’d be able to do ultrasound on the same day, but that the radiologist wasn’t in today. She sent me back to the waiting room.

A nurse appeared a few minutes later and said a sentence that began “because you’re so young” and ended with “Thursday at 3 o’clock.” There was something about a mammogram and a biopsy in there. I stopped processing at that point. I didn’t even think to ask what I’ll know and when I’ll know it (in other words, do they put me out of my misery on Thursday or is there more waiting?).

It’s easy to become melodramatic in this situation, and I’m fighting it, though not very successfully. I went to the gym afterwards, wondering what the point was of all this effort to be slim if I’m going to lie around being sick and then dying. (Hello, melodrama.) I passed a Monsoon with cute spring-y dresses and wondered where I’d be and in what state of health when spring comes. I thought about how lucky I’d been with my left knee recently (several doctors had thought it would require surgery, but an MRI showed it wasn’t what anyone expected – and could probably be fixed with an injection of cortisone. Jury still out on that one) and wondered if my luck has run out.

I hope not.