My Breast Cancer Journey

I am one of the 20,000-plus men and women who will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year.

As many of us do, I had become busy and missed my regular mammogram - my second mammogram.

So, I made an appointment and went in, whipped the shirt and bra off as we ladies do and endured several minutes of discomfort before redressing and heading straight back into my busy schedule.

When I received a call requesting I travel to the breast screening facility in Wagga, that little niggle that runs up the back of your spine when something isn’t quite right reared its ugly head, but I was assured that it was not uncommon for such requests to occur.

COVID rules meant that I was unable to take the usual support person with me, so I travelled to Wagga alone and sat in the waiting room for a while.

I went in for another mammogram and then sat again in the waiting room. After a lengthy wait, I was called in and told that the mammogram had found a lump and it was cancer.

I waited again before they took me in for a biopsy.

Sometimes the retelling becomes very clinical, devoid of emotion, but the journey is far from emotionless.

I remember laying on the table as they positioned me for the biopsy as slow and silent tears fell from my eyes.

My chest was tight, but I tried to hold my breath and control those tears, to drive the emotions back down.

The doctors and nurses were lovely, but I was still scared. I was also fortunate.

The lump couldn’t be felt by hands - mine or the doctor’s. I was assured that meant they had got it early.

My fantastic GP moved swiftly, referring me to a specialist who acted quickly to get me in for surgery at Wagga Base Hospital.

My employer and work team were very understanding.

There were no complaints about my mid-day nap to keep me going.

I was working out how I was going to pay for the follow-up trips to Wagga for my radiation treatment when the Griffith Oncology facility opened to its first patients.

The staff at the facility are professional and approachable.

Each weekday for a month, I went in for radiation treatment.

I was tired and emotionally drained.

Even now, some days are good and I go about my business without thinking of the diagnosis, but there are other days when a thought pops into my head.

What if they were wrong and they didn’t get it all?

What if it comes back again?

Whatever happens, I am going to make sure I show up for my next mammogram appointment, and would urge other women to do the same.

• Topics:

• Health & Wellbeing