140. Rubber Stamped

I’d had 2 appointments at the breast clinic sent to me.  Both times, I’d rung the breast cancer nurse line and spoken to the secretary.  Both times she’d told me I didn’t need the appointments and cancelled them.  Finally, Mr S phoned me.  ‘Why have you missed two appointments?’  I explained to him what had happened.  He rebooked me.   

The usual really.  R went with me, given our agreement following the meltdown.  I stripped off, was examined.  Except this time I was seeing a young female doctor.  I told her about the pain in my  boob and armpit and she examined me REALLY carefully.  She felt the lumps around my scar really carefully; asked me when my mammogram was due and suggested it be brought forward to July.  She also agreed an ultrasound would be a good idea.  Success.   

We discuss why I’m having the prophylactic surgery; the BRCA gene.  She agrees it is reasonable and approves it.   

Later that afternoon, when I’m back at work, R texts me.  The clinic has phoned to say I will be given an MRI scan before my big op.  I have no idea if this is because there is a problem or if it’s routine so I phone the breast care nurse to check.  She phones back and leaves a voice mail message later; purely routine.  Phew!!!