Bacardi Girl

My first week home, wasn’t too bad. I even managed to go to Great Dixter House and Gardens, albeit in a wheelchair, as I was having troubles, with breathing. And the following day, I did a little stroll to Hall Place in Bexley, to take some photographs.

On Monday the 10th I went back to the Breast Care Clinic at Medway Hospital to see Dr about the mass in my boob. In fact, to say I was nervous, was an understatement, I was shakier than a Chivers Jelly on a plate.

It was quite a hike from the car park, so it was back in the hospital wheelchair, for me. My heart sank and a little panic hit me as we got to the doors of the Breast Care Clinic… to be honest the fear of the unknown and what they were going to do, scared me shitless.

I had to fill in a form, and it wasn’t long before me and another lady were called. We were directed to a seating area and told to remove our bras in the cubicles and just leave our tops on. The nurse told me this was a one-stop clinic, and they do whatever they have to on this appointment to avoid having to call me back for more procedures.

It wasn’t long before the Dr called me in. I was half expecting a telling off for leaving it… but alas no telling off, just sheer understanding and care, with a lot of compassion.

There you are sitting on a bed, being prodded and poked, with your boobs exposed to the world. He examined me and said, we need a mammogram and biopsies.

My feeling scared went into over-drive at the thought of my boobs be squashed in a machine and then having the biopsies. Normally the nurse does them… but on this occasion the doctor wanted to do them himself, so he could make sure there they were taken from where he wanted them to be taken from and that the samples were adequate enough for testing.

So, it was back to the waiting room, then the doors of the mammogram room were opened and my name was called. My legs became so weak with fear, that I thought for one minute they would buckle underneath me. I was now fully in fear of the unknown.

The radiographer was lovely, she did the good breast first and then the cancerous boob last… one shot for each side of the breast being squashed from top to bottom and the second shot from side to side.

It wasn’t that long being done… and the only real discomfort I felt was when the cancerous book was squashed side to side. After she was finished, I was back in the waiting room. Next step the biopsies. Oh, how I was dreading this was no-man’s business. But I knew in order to fight this it needed to be done.

It wasn’t long before I was called again. This time upon entering the doctor’s room was this tray of equipment. He told me, that they would numb the boob with a local anaesthetic and would use a needle that sounded like a gun to get the sample.

He tested if I could feel anything, and then started the procedure…. I felt no pain whatsoever, but this gun was firing more like a bloody machine gun… God knows how many holes I had, but the nurse was applying pressure to stop them bleeding. Which they did in the end..

Thinking it was all over… I was in for a shock. Next was the lymph node samples as it has gone to my lymph node. Another local anaesthetic administered to the lymph node and another attack of machine gun fire. Throughout the procedure the Dr was telling me I was doing good and there was nothing to fear.

One they stopped the bleeding by applying pressure, they dressed the wounds and cleaned me up. The Dr told me they would be sending an appointment in the post for me to visit the consultant.

The nurse told me to sit outside for a few minutes to make sure they didn’t start bleeding. After a short while the nurse told me it was all ok and I could go home.

Yes, it sounds gory, but believe me… there is no pain involved other than a sharp scratch with the local being administered. And if you’ve had blood tests before, it is on that level… nothing other than a scratch.

I was told to go home and rest and not to use that arm vigorously for at least 24hrs and then gently until 48 hours were up. The lymph node dressing could be removed after 48 hours and to book an appointment for the wound to be changed on Friday.

My boob felt a little sore but went off with a couple of paracetamol… but the worst was yet to come. I was getting more and more breathless. In fact, it got to the point where I dreaded going upstairs because that would make me totally lose my breath and feel like I was fighting to breath. It was getting worse by each day… Even the short walk into the wound clinic, on Wednesday, had me fighting for breath and developing a hacking cough. Whether this breathless was caused by panic or something else, I didn’t know. But it was pure hell! Anxiety was getting the worst of me.

I think that is when I decided to open up my computer and write about my journey. At least it took my mind off of not being able to breath properly… but it didn’t stop the coughing fits and them making me feel as if I was fighting to breath.

In fact, the breathlessness, was making me want every window open to get air, a fear of sleeping in the dark and asking hubby to remove the self-closing gadget on the bathroom door. It was getting worse every day… and that fear of going back into hospital was scaring me so much. I want to be at home, in my own surroundings with my family.

Blogging and processing photographs, was helping me and stopping the anxiety slightly… and I have found so much strength and fight in me from the followers of my photography blog and this blog. To them I say Thank You. I was close to the point of just giving up. But my readers and commentators have given me strength to fight!

It was on the Thursday that I received the letter with an appointment for the Breast Surgery Team on the 26th April 2023, that’s if I’m alive by then, I thought. 😀 😀 😀