I’m getting really sick of the insomnia. I finally manage to fall asleep just before dawn and when I wake Susannah has already started work. I play my Andrew Johnson Visualize Healing guided meditation. It helps me relax and puts me in a good place to start the day. I think I’ll try to do it in the morning as frequently as I can.

A Team Leader at work checks in and asks why I have not logged in at my designated start time. I’m off sick, I explain. Get well, he says. I’d absolutely love to Ry, if I could, I don’t say.

Susannah has a biopsy appointment at 1:15pm at the Breast Clinic so she stops work at lunchtime and we head to the hospital. We had thought she’d be booked for a mammogram or a second ultrasound so were surprised when she got the email confirming the biopsy. The potential outcome has now escalated to a very scary place. She better not have fucking cancer – I don’t think either of us could cope with that. I’ve been on forums and FB groups for breast cancer and it’s amazing how many people have multiple family members with the same disease at the same time. I mean how the hell does that happen? Although I suppose myself and 2 of my cousins have all had cancer in the same age bracket, just at different times due to when we were born.

We are early so sit in the waiting room for some time. It’s weird be circling back to the beginning of this shit show and all the early trauma comes flooding back. I look at the other women waiting and wonder how many of them will have their lives flipped upside down by a cancer diagnosis. Quietly, I hope for the best for them – I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

Susannah is called and we go into the treatment room. The radiologist, Dr Tv, applies gel and begins the ultrasound on her right breast. After a few minutes he stops and asks did you have a lump there? Susannah explains how her ultrasound had found something unusual and that she and Dr Y wanted to check it out for peace of mind. Dr Tv flips the screen around to show us and explains that he cannot see any abnormal tissue and so there is nothing to biopsy. He suggests another ultrasound in 3 months as a follow up but seems very certain that there is no tumour or unusual mass. We thanks him and leave. Outside we hug and I begin to cry and laugh with relief. Tension is eased somewhat. 

Back at home our relief is cut short by a phone call from the hospital. They have decided to evaluate her left breast as well, just to be sure. She books in for next Thursday following my Oncology appointment and Chemo treatment. It’s going to be another long, stressful hospital day.

Late afternoon I am suddenly attacked by a series of shooting pains in my breast. They are short, just a second or two each, but they are very sharp and searing, like red hot needles. I try to breathe through the pain until it settles down. I haven’t had any pain since chemo on Thursday. I wonder if it is the cancer fighting back. This freaks me out. If Betty is still alive and growing, where does that leave me? The pain is intense right now, I can’t imagine what it will be like as the disease progresses.

I try not to dwell on these thoughts but by evening I am once more treading water in a sea of despair.