There’s only one thing worse than lumpy custard, and that’s a lumpy boob. Especially when there’s a history of breast cancer in your family.. and especially when you find the lump in said lumpy boob at 3am and it feels like the size of gobstopper. Like those ones in the 80’s. Not the sensible re-sized ones for the millennium that you can’t choke on. Im talking mahoosive gobstoppers, like they had in The Goonies. Love that film.
So that was me a few weeks ago, panicking in the middle of the night that I had in fact grown myself a massive cancer monster gobstopper in my boob. It was not a good moment. Not.
Within 24 hours I was at my GP, (a big sloppy kiss to the NHS) and then a series of boob detectives proceeded to investigate. I had two biopsies (yep, two. They’re not much fun, are they?) an ultrasound, (was quite relieved they didn’t say “Congratulations! It’s a boy!” I’ve watched too many episodes of Casualty..) a Mamogram (squish) and an MRI.
Can we just talk about that for a second.. WHO invented this machine? For crying out loud. I was on my front, boobs squished, legs bent, paper pants, head face down in a pillow, a line in my arm, a machine that sounds like a pneumatic drill and no cake, no crisps and no music, (was on my front so the headphones wouldn’t work.)
I had to stay still for 30 minutes. Stay still? 30 minutes? These things don’t belong together in the same sentence. But that’s what had to happen so that’s what I did. So I sang (OUT LOUD) Les Mis – from the very beginning “Look down, look down..” all the way to “BEFORE YOU SAY ANOTHER WORD JAVERRRRT!!” It’s hard to sing a duet by yourself, but I did it. I was almost sad when it was over – I was looking forward to my muffled rendition of One Day More… (it would have been excellent.)
Anyway, the long and the short of it is that the main boob detective at the hospital (he has a badge and everything) is pretty confident (99% sure) my gobstopper, (which is not nearly as big as a gobstopper) is benign… but he wants to whisk it out anyway. And I don’t blame him. No one likes a lump. Not in custard and not in boobs.
So tomorrow I shall be going to hospital for a gobstopper-ectomy and I hope to be home the same day and drinking chicken soup (courtesy of my amazing mum) by sun down.
Catching cancer early is key – so go off and check for any lumps and bumps. Any doubt? Go and see your doc and get him/her on your team.
For now, I have a date with a general anaesthetic and some paper pants.
I will see you on the other side..