88. Persistence

Many apologies folks for my negligence in updating this! LOADS has happened so bear with me and I’ll record it all. Reader, she’s flaky! 

So. You may recall that I’ve obsessed on and off about a second lump in my skanky boob. I found it on GCSE results day and it’s been there ever since. I’ve felt it on and off, persuaded R to try to feel it, talked to S about it, mentioned it several times to L, my long suffering breast care nurse, got a consultant to look at it and finally, finally, discussed it with my oncologist. S had long been advising me to have a private scan, while at the same time warning me that it would piss off my NHS care team if I went over their heads.

I looked on line to see what was available and by accident came across a clinic offering not just the usual ultrasound and mammogram but also Digital Infrared scans and MRI scans. S had been recommending a total body MRI which would show up cancer anywhere in the body. I read a bit about each scan type and found out that mammograms weren’t great for women under 50 because breast tissue pre-menopause is too dense for a mammogram to read properly. Ultrasounds were the NHS scan of choice for breast checks for premenopausal women. MRI scans seemed to be the ultimate because they’d show up EVERYTHING although somewhere else I read that they could give false positive results. Scary shit. Making you think you had cancer somewhere else when you didn’t. Digital infrared scans on the screen looked good. Healthy tissue showed up blue, tumours bright pink. But no one seemed to know about them despite my emailing and asking.

So back to my oncologist. I’d told him about the lump and also about the pain I was having in my rib cage and collar bone. I also told him I was thinking about having a private scan because the lump was still there and I was worried. He wasn’t horrified but wasn’t happy and told me that I should speak to my breast care nurse before having a scan because it should be available on the NHS.

Later the same day I phoned the breast care nurse. My favourite nurse, L, didn’t call back, but another one did. She wasn’t happy with me. She pointed out how many people had checked my lump. I told her it felt just like the first one; the tumour. That I was worried because it hadn’t been properly checked and it wasn’t going away. Finally, she grumpily agreed to book me in to see Mr. S, one of the consultants. Result?