cancer

A scary couple of days

by Cellobella on Friday, January 7, 2011 · 6 comments

View from the 20th floor

So having played bridge all day at the apartment where the photo above was taken, I come home a bit hot and sweaty – it was so humid – and decided to have a quick shower.

Groover was out at Kareoke for a friend’s birthday.

So I get out my nice Chanel soapy stuff lather up and touch my right boob.

Um…

That feels odd.

There’s a lump taking up what feels like half my breast.

How did I not notice it before?

First thought – breast cancer.

Second thought – breast cancer.

Third and continuing thought – breast cancer.

I bundle into my pjs and try and go to sleep but I can’t.

Groover eventually comes home.

Hi.

I think I’ve got breast cancer.

Yeah right.

No really.

Let me feel.

Um…

Eventually I fell asleep.

But in the morning the lump was still there and my boob is throbbing.

Of course it’s in the middle of a long weekend so I can’t immediately get someone to scan it, but thanks to a friend who is a doctor I manage to get into an imaging clinic on the Tuesday afternoon.

The last time I had a mammogram was May 2009.

So at 2.15pm I have a mammogram, and an ultrasound.

Jan – on the ultrasound – shows me these big black blobby things on the screen.

Those, she says, are cysts.

It feels like my entire breast is cysts – there are heaps!

So, she goes on, you can leave it or get the big ones drained…

I go for the Fine Needle Aspiration.

Ah well we might as well check out this area as well… unlikely to be cancer but while we’re there.

They give me a local anesthetic and then the needle goes in.

It bloody hurt.  A lot.

Apparently they don’t numb everything as it can interfere with the testing.

They suck out what looks like about 40 mL of dark pinkish liquid.

Then they go to another area, and jiggle the needle around a bit to pick up some cells from the fibro-thingy.

[Edited to say... er it's a fibroadenoma.]

They seemed pretty confident so I told my friend the good news and champagne was drunk.

I got the all clear today (no worries says my friend) and I’ve got a slight bruise.

God.  What a relief.

I was so upset and it was a false alarm.

I can’t imagine how bad it would be to get the alternative result like a friend of mine did recently.

My heart goes out to you.

x

What to say to someone with cancer

by Cellobella on Tuesday, December 2, 2008 · 10 comments

It’s horrible news.

It takes you out of your comfort zone.

Your easy relationship of the past has gone.

Suddenly all the rules have changed.  Your friend could be dying.  Suddenly you don’t know what to say.

Big C is in the room.

But have the rules changed?  

Has your relationship altered?

Does your friend feel different about you?

Of course, the fact is that nothing has changed.  Your friend had cancer before he or she told you about it, before they themselves knew.

The only thing that has changed is your comfort level.

Get over it.

I was speaking with someone with cancer last night, in fact, she was going in for some more chemo today.

When she was first diagnosed, eight years ago, she said the most marvellous thing that happened was that three male friends of hers rang her and told her they loved her.

One of them (I’m proud to say) was my dad – who went to school and university with her husband.

She has carried that with her in the eight years since.

So if you are in any doubt as to what to say to someone diagnosed with cancer, the lesson I’ve learned is to ring them, and tell them that they are loved by you.

As Patrick Dodson, WA Senior of the Year said – “I don’t know what the questions are – but I know the answer is love.”

The Spare Room by Helen Garner

by Cellobella on Friday, October 3, 2008

I had no interest in picking up Helen Garner’s latest novel The Spare Room. Helen has always seemed a little worthy, a little hard core for me.

I based this assessment on what I’d seen of her in the media and some vague memory of her writing something on sexual harassment… I haven’t actually read anything of hers before.

Such is the way opinions are made and held.

The cover didn’t inspire me either. It was hard cover. A quiet, worthy looking design.

However my boss offered me the book and I find it hard to say no, so I said yes and dutifully put it in the pile of books on my bedside table for later.

Later happened.

I picked it up preparing to read the first few pages and put it down again, distracted by the next shiny covered airport novel to catch my attention – within the first page I was hooked.

The Spare Room has been described as exquisite. I agree.

It’s been described as blunt, bold and evocative. Yep, I’m right there with you.

It’s the story of a dying woman, Nicola, who goes to stay at her friend Helen’s house in another city to fight her cancer at a dodgy clinic. She doesn’t want to admit defeat. She also remains defiantly cheerful in the face of death – which she in fact, doesn’t face.

It’s the story Helen who takes on her Nicola’s anger, absorbs it. Who is desperately caught between the role of supporting Nicola in her pathetic endless quest for a cure and wanting to shake her and stop the farce… and then of course feels guilty… and angry.

The mirror that shatters in the first pages symbolises the struggle. How can you face death if you can’t see it… and you have to walk pretty carefully if there is broken glass on the floor…

Nicola doesn’t want anyone to reflect her truth, but by denying it, she keeps Helen at arms length.

I really enjoyed the read. Couldn’t put it down.

It’s not a long book – 2-3 hours – but it stays with you.

Interview with Helen Garner