I had a needle biopsy for the breast lump on 12th December, along with a physical exam and an ultrasound of it. Usually, they offer a 'one-stop shop' with the results given on the same day, but due to a meeting that the radiologist was called away to that afternoon, I had to wait 16 days to be given the biopsy results yesterday morning. The results are..."conflicting". Whilst the biopsy appears to show no abnormal cells, it turns out the consultant felt a suspicious mobile lymph node during the physical exam. He didn't tell me at the time; I only found out yesterday when the registrar giving me the results referred to "the lump in your armpit". What!! The registrar explained that, if I had just the lump on its own, they would put it down as a fibroadenoma based on my age, the clinical signs and the biopsy result. But there shouldn't be a lump in my armpit so, given my history, they want to be on the safe side and do more tests.
So what does this mean? According to the piece of paper I was given, it means this:
USS + FNA
F34 Hx of malignant melanoma, WLE + groin dissection 4/12.
O/E R breast P3 Lump + axcillary mobile LN.
? Recurrence
Which is doctor speak for:
Request for ultrasound scan and fine needle aspiration
Female aged 34, history of malignant melanoma, wide local excision and groin dissection in April.
On examination, right breast has a lump defined as 'uncertain' and a mobile lymph node in the armpit.
Is this is a recurrence of melanoma?
So, once more, I await tests under the two-week rule for cancer. Again, I could have had it all done the same day but again the radiologist wasn't available, this time because it's the Christmas holidays. I have a feeling, though, that this will all be fine. I've done a lot of reading, and clinically, all the signs are pointing to a fibroadenoma, or non-cancerous tumour.
On this day last year, I saw my GP who told me she would be surprised if I didn't have cancer. How ironic that I go into 2013 as I went into 2012...waiting for a biopsy to officially find out. On the up-side, since I've decided the 29th December is my official Cancerversary, I bought myself a spa treatment. And it was very pleasant indeed!
Saturday, 29 December 2012
Sunday, 2 December 2012
"Hopefully, this will be my last entry to this blog..."
...and if wishes were horses, etc etc.
When I was in the bath last week, I dutifully did my monthly squish of round all the scars and around my groin and armpit lymph nodes, only to find a lump. A large, hard lump in my right breast...the same side the melanoma was on. It tends to stay on one side of the body. One phone call and 48 hours later, I was sat in the GP's office whilst two lovely lady doctors examined me. One of them was Catherine, the same GP to whom I went almost 11 months ago to the day, after discovering cancer mole.
"It doesn't feel soft enough to be a cyst," she said, with a neutral face that belied any concern, "but I don't want to make any guesses because it could be something or it could be nothing. So I'll make you a referral to the breast clinic under the two-week rule, just to get it scanned and biopsied."
The two-week rule exists both for melanoma and for breast cancer. The scan she referred to is a mammogram, ultrasound, or both. The biopsy will hopefully be a fine needle biopsy, whereby a fine needle (unsurprisingly) is guided into the lump and a small sample of cells withdrawn for analysis. It's possible, she said, that I will be given the results the same day.
"You're not going away for Christmas, are you?" she asked.
"Yes, actually," I replied, "I'm going to Moscow on the 14th of December for five days."
Her neutral mask dropped for a split second.
"Well, I'm sure they'll be able to work around it, they're very good like that. But, er, if they do need to proceed with immediate treatment, I would take it if I were you. You just need to be prepared to cancel the trip. We can write you an insurance note if need be."
Which would be great if I had insurance, but I don't. I got an online quote: "OH! You've had cancer recently?!" it trilled at me. "Moscow for five days post-cancer? That'll be £197 please." On your bike, Aleksandr Meerkat.
So I have an appointment on Wednesday 12th December at our local breast clinic. Hopefully I will get the results the same day. It appears to be a three-horse race, with the contenders as follows:
Horse 1 - Benign Bob. It could well be a fatty lump (no problem, leave it be) or a fibroadenoma, which is a benign tumour. Options are watch and wait, or a lumpectomy under general anaesthetic. Let's hope this horse wins.
Horse 2 - Bog Off Breast Cancer. Did I inadvertantly write "cancer" on my Christmas wish list instead of "kindle"? Obviously we don't want this. But it's not as bad as:
Horse 3 - Brown Bread Fred. AKA melanoma metastasis. Because that would mean the melanoma has spread; I'd be stage 4, terminal, and effectively dead. Sorry, I can dress it up for you if you like but that is the reality. There are drugs that prolong life after stage 4 MM diagnosis, but they do not cure it. There is no cure. It kills you, and usually within a couple of years.
That all may sound melodramatic, and the odds are that it's something benign. At this point, I would even take breast cancer with relative ease. I don't believe in God, but I have started to bargain in my head for it not to be a met. I know I'm not alone, and there are millions of other former cancer patients who go through this internal worry whenever they find a lump or a new mole. It sucks. But most of the time, it turns out to be nothing and it is just hyper-vigilism that meant they found it in the first place. So there we go. An update will follow when I have one.
When I was in the bath last week, I dutifully did my monthly squish of round all the scars and around my groin and armpit lymph nodes, only to find a lump. A large, hard lump in my right breast...the same side the melanoma was on. It tends to stay on one side of the body. One phone call and 48 hours later, I was sat in the GP's office whilst two lovely lady doctors examined me. One of them was Catherine, the same GP to whom I went almost 11 months ago to the day, after discovering cancer mole.
"It doesn't feel soft enough to be a cyst," she said, with a neutral face that belied any concern, "but I don't want to make any guesses because it could be something or it could be nothing. So I'll make you a referral to the breast clinic under the two-week rule, just to get it scanned and biopsied."
The two-week rule exists both for melanoma and for breast cancer. The scan she referred to is a mammogram, ultrasound, or both. The biopsy will hopefully be a fine needle biopsy, whereby a fine needle (unsurprisingly) is guided into the lump and a small sample of cells withdrawn for analysis. It's possible, she said, that I will be given the results the same day.
"You're not going away for Christmas, are you?" she asked.
"Yes, actually," I replied, "I'm going to Moscow on the 14th of December for five days."
Her neutral mask dropped for a split second.
"Well, I'm sure they'll be able to work around it, they're very good like that. But, er, if they do need to proceed with immediate treatment, I would take it if I were you. You just need to be prepared to cancel the trip. We can write you an insurance note if need be."
Which would be great if I had insurance, but I don't. I got an online quote: "OH! You've had cancer recently?!" it trilled at me. "Moscow for five days post-cancer? That'll be £197 please." On your bike, Aleksandr Meerkat.
So I have an appointment on Wednesday 12th December at our local breast clinic. Hopefully I will get the results the same day. It appears to be a three-horse race, with the contenders as follows:
Horse 1 - Benign Bob. It could well be a fatty lump (no problem, leave it be) or a fibroadenoma, which is a benign tumour. Options are watch and wait, or a lumpectomy under general anaesthetic. Let's hope this horse wins.
Horse 2 - Bog Off Breast Cancer. Did I inadvertantly write "cancer" on my Christmas wish list instead of "kindle"? Obviously we don't want this. But it's not as bad as:
Horse 3 - Brown Bread Fred. AKA melanoma metastasis. Because that would mean the melanoma has spread; I'd be stage 4, terminal, and effectively dead. Sorry, I can dress it up for you if you like but that is the reality. There are drugs that prolong life after stage 4 MM diagnosis, but they do not cure it. There is no cure. It kills you, and usually within a couple of years.
That all may sound melodramatic, and the odds are that it's something benign. At this point, I would even take breast cancer with relative ease. I don't believe in God, but I have started to bargain in my head for it not to be a met. I know I'm not alone, and there are millions of other former cancer patients who go through this internal worry whenever they find a lump or a new mole. It sucks. But most of the time, it turns out to be nothing and it is just hyper-vigilism that meant they found it in the first place. So there we go. An update will follow when I have one.
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