Sugar and Spice

It's a funny fairground I'm in... I thought I was taking a slow, considered walk to the House of Horrors, but a big dipper came along and left me topsy turvy for a bit...

On Saturday, I decided I was well and energetic enough to drive, so took the young PS to sailing and drove below the speed limit to Kingston to get more library books and some new school pants for him (he's skidded a hole through another pair!) ... all good, but after this and watching sailing for 2 hours, I found I needed a very long nanna nap, followed by an early night!

Woke up Sunday morning with what felt like a sharp arrow head digging into my right breast, and examination revealed a huge lump. Showering added to my distress when as soon as the warm water hit me an extremely itchy rash began tormenting me. I prayed, took some deep breaths and managed to get through the day, with DH and some support from the good CEO and M. I had an appointment with the KD monday morning for my blood test results, so at least I could get attention on this lump soon.

Monday, the KD saw his normally serene patient somewhat tense and agitated, and unusually eager to remove her clothes! "It's an infection" he pronounced "how do you know?" I wailed. "It's hot, red and swollen" he said sagely, with no hint of impatience at my lack of respect for his years of experience as a doctor. I laughed. The 3 times I'd woken in the night feeling freezing then hot, made sense. I relaxed. "but, just to be sure, we will send you off to the (top, top) Radiologist again". So armed with a pack of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories I went home. Blood tests are all good, except for iron. The itching is a mystery. (could be an allergy to the iron?)

Now, Tuesday (today) is the appointment with the oncologist day, and the KD had managed to slot me into the TTR 2 hours before the ONCO, so after lunch, protected as I drive from the cutting edge seatbelt by my trusty Zonta cushion (which otherwise I am using less and less) I make my way to Woman's Imaging. I filled the TTR in on what has happened since I last saw her. She began my scan muttering darkly about microwhatsit's and tumour cells - I think she was annoyed that her ultrasound machine could not detect these cells, or maybe she was just mad with the cells. Anyway, she clearly showed me that all I have is mastitis, and agreed with the KD that it is very rare for a non-lactating woman of my age to get mastitis, but there you have it. "A very wise woman will keep an eye on this spot very closely over the next few months" she said seriously, but although similar, she is pretty sure it is not an inflammatory tumour. Thank you, I will be very wise. And the big dipper came to rest.

Off to the oncologist, a bit early, so time to have a browse of the quaint shops in South Hobart, and buy my DH a scotch egg from the upmarket foodstore there. (only fair, he bought me dark chocolate covered nougat last night, to celebrate having an infection rather than a tumour.)

Now O.N.C.O stands for "or nearest cash offer" but in the word 'oncologist' it means "other number crunched options". Cancer treatment, it seems is all about statistics and percentages. Now, from my last post you know that I've been praying about (as have others) the decision regarding axillary surgery. Actually I prayed for a clear answer and to not have to make the decision myself ( I know, but some decisions are hard!) so the very nice ONCO told me that he's given my case a lot of thought, and he feels that it would be reasonable to not have the surgery. Yes! Thank You Lord.

Then he went though a 'Shared Decision Making' Process which informed me that:

with no further treatment of any kind, seeing as I have the common or garden variety of cancer,and accounting for my age and general health, my chances of survival and disease free status over 10 years is 61%. For some reason (hopefully misreading my birthdate, and not judging by appearance), he worked out my stats as a 55 year old. Readjusting for my true age, it appeared that my chances of being run over by a steamroller increased, while my chances of dying of cancer decreased slightly.You gotta love stats!

With hormonal treatment only, my chances leap to 74%. With chemotherapy only, to 77% and with combined therapy (using Second Generation Regimen chemotherapy) to 85%. For hormonal therapy, he thinks I am a good candidate for ovarian ablation, which is apparently fairly minor surgery. I have an appointment to return to him with my decision next Tuesday, and he will refer me to a Gynaecologist, and I will need to have a bone density test.

So I've lost and will lose some of the things little girls are made of....but not all things nice.

Praise the Lord.