Lucky.

Well I am lucky! Yes me,I am lucky, I do not have cancer and it seems I do not have a lump anymore. I attended my breast clinic appointment to indeed have my life force reaffirmed. The Registrar examining my breasts found no cause for alarm, she explained that my HRT had probably caused changes, wey hey, phew, I knew it, Yes!

Still I had to move on down the line of the clinics procedures, to have a mammogram and an ultra sound scan, but hey, this nightmare is over!

It was a strange experience attending this clinic, it was all very friendly and also sombre. I arrived at the main reception, with time to spare, lucky really as the taxi had been late, not lucky, just well prepared and planned for. A printed ticket directed me to Outpatients one, here I sat for less that ten minutes, I was just starting to enjoy a book on my kindle, settled in for a long wait, but it was quick, a nurse called my name and led me to another waiting area, Waiting 3, gave me a questionnaire to complete.

Here were the other women, all huddled in the chairs, silent, waiting nervously, wearing strange clothes, the letter had advised loose clothing and you could tell they had all attempted this. Me I was bra less, with a loose shirt and jumper.

One by one we were called down the corridor. The atmosphere was serious, the only sounds came from the kind and deliberately compassionate chatter of the staff. I could feel their consideration, they knew this was scary, maybe life changing and they were respectful. I was feeling cheerful, happy to be here, already positive it wouldn’t be me getting the bad news, like my body had already told me so.

My name, disturbed my book page again, this time I was led to a doctors room, she introduced herself and asked what brought me here, stupid question, I hate those. ‘Oh my knee’s been playing up duck, could you take a look?’ No jokes really, I quietly explained my journey to this point instead. She went through the sheet checking my answers, I was aware that there seemed to be no worrying markers in my history, no family members past, no signs of breast problems, that pleased me. My fears were evaporating rapidly. I whipped my tops off for a brief examination by her with a nurse present, she was careful and gentle and found nothing. ‘Whoohoo, lets get out of here!’ screamed in my head. She explained that HRT can cause changes that come and go, but still told me I would have the scans to be sure, and to come back any time I feel anything new.

I rushed out of there, aware it was not the place to sing and high five the other women, maybe my positive situation would provide relief for the tension? But maybe it was bad taste. Down the corridor further and to Wait 2, This was in a room with a receptionist, she seemed to have been chosen from some day release scheme, a jolly but seemingly incompetent woman, who talked towards us and to herself, apologising for getting everything wrong, like a little comedy show, put on to break the tension. Other women looked solemn and avoided eye contact, I wanted to break out of this say high, ask, ‘who’s for a mammogram?’ but again, not the place. I was aware, despite my own relief and good news that others sitting near me may be leaving today with a different result, for some their wait would continue, following a biopsy, the results needing more time to process. I felt sad for them and suppressed my happiness.

Name call again and onwards down a corridor, this time , the mammogram machine, tops over head before she could blink and ready, tits squashed and squished and twisted, they are deflated sacks nowadays so all very easy to manipulate. All very quick, clothes back on and out, ‘I’ve never seen anyone dress so quickly’ yes well, I’m not one for wasting time. ‘Lets get me out of here!’ Hospitals have always terrified me, I do not linger in them.

I was led down the corridor to Wait 1, woohoo nearly there, there were less women in this waiting bay, some already left, on their way to freedom, that was good to see, more silence here, but not long to wait before I was called into the room for an ultra sound, all polite chit chat, tops off, laying on bed, side propped with wedge cushion, gel squeezed on and breast checked, no , nothing! Yey. Though hold on I wasn’t free yet, she had to check with her boss and then yes, I was free, dress and run, follow the signs for way out and run!

So I am a lucky one, no cancer for me, this is such a relief but all I could feel was numb. Was it the solemness of the experience, the thought of other, less lucky women? Was it just the release of tension, finally I could let go, stop holding myself together? Was it just the exhaustion caused by the experience and location, the florescent lights and all the up and down, the assault on my senses? I don’t know, did I suppress my happiness and it stuck or was it just too close for comfort, too serious a miss to warrant joy.

It is now the next morning, I had thought I would celebrate afterwards, but all I could do was crash out and sleep. Today I awoke with a sense of normal, no more distraction, life to get on with. I am shaking it off but an echo of the fear still lingers. Am I disappointed, I don’t have a disease that people understand and sympathise for? That a cure exists for, an illness to battle and win? That I am still me, with this ongoing struggle, no escape, no way out. While I want to live forever, I don’t want to suffer endlessly, have I been denied an escape, am I being punished, was a get out of jail card waved at me and then taken away? I know I must not think like that, but deep inside I do, should I say that out loud, probably not, but honesty has always been my policy. I feel sad, whatever the cause, a week without HRT, its no wonder. Well no more of that, onwards and upwards, back to the plan.

I have never been lucky, am I lucky now?

Just incase, I bought a lottery ticket, if luck is going my way, winning millions would be good. I haven’t checked the results yet, wish me luck with that.

Here’s to faith and not fear, to living well and being honest.

Chris. xx