Well that was funny...

The first couple of appointments were pretty basic in terms of information provided.

Yes. You have cancer. Yes. You need treatment.

Yes. Many more people will need to examine your breasts and No, not in the dark!

In between these initial appointments I touched base with my family. A tough job particularly as the last two years have been difficult for all of us, and another family member is also living with a cancer diagnosis. There are not many of us so we could do without all this cancer nonsense.

So to the next appointment. Oncology department near the BRI (in Bristol).

Grade 3 invasive ductal carcinoma (to give it a name) has to be explained by a specialist so that I can understand the proposed treatment. It is a triple negative cancer. Does not respond to estrogen, progesterone or Her2. I am not going to explain it here but it means that I have to endure chemo and immunotherapy and (after surgery) radiation therapy.

And now for the numbers. Every week, with 3 weekly cycles over 24 weeks in total for the chemo/immuno mixup. Radiation is then for 8 weeks following surgery. In between, lots of blood removed and tested. Further scans and MRI for analysis. Oh, and they are going to put me on blood thinners to prevent clotting.

Another manual examination, and believe it or not we could not find the lump. It's in my left boob, but it disappeared. I've always been a tad self conscious about getting the girls out in public, and they have been out a lot in the last month. I mean a lot. Maybe they decided enough is enough. Yay, I thought. It was all a mistake. I am lump free. Hurrah.

Apparently that is not how this breast cancer thing works. For the record, the next day the lump returned and the soon to arrive MRI results will determine where it was hiding.

Annie again attended this appointment with me. Again, she asked lots of questions. I asked if I was going to lose my hair. Probably. More than likely. And all of it. Head, eyebrows, eyelashes and elsewhere.

Aha! I may be bald but at least there would be no more post-menopausal lady-beard issues to deal with ! Think of the good in everything.

Then the very nice Consultant told us about the process.

He draw a great picture of me to show what happens with the PICC line. This is how they feed the drugs in for the 24 weeks, instead of needles every week. Makes sense to me.

I like the fact that the very lifelike picture has me smiling!

(By the way, that is my heart in the middle of the picture, not a lopsided boob!).

Then he told us about the side effects.

WTF!!!

He didn't draw a picture then. But he did list them "from top to bottom".

Losing your hair (which will grow back) is nothing compared to some of the other possibilities. I know that they have to tell you but...

Chemo has a list as long as my arm. Then Immunotherapy has its own special list.

I am not generally an ill person. My health failings have always been broken bones or torn ligaments as a result of sporting and party injuries, not illnesses. I take ibuprofen and that is it. No drugs...and for those that know me I do not count wine as a drug. So no drugs.

My body is going to flip its lid when they start pumping this stuff into me.

They also took four tubes of blood out of me. I give (gave) blood regularly so am used to the process. One tube has gone to check for the BRCA gene...A DNA test that tells me if this is hereditary and whether others in the family need to be checked. We do not have breast cancer in my family (as far as I know) but we do have other cancers and some may be linked. Better safe than sorry.

The other tubes of blood will be the base line for what a 'healthy Ali' looks like.

Annie and I headed off for a post-appointment coffee. Then we changed our minds and had a glass of wine and, to be honest, we laughed. It was the most intense meeting I have ever sat through, but weirdly with lots of funny moments. Not that we laughed during the appointment and neither did the Consultant. But some of it is so bad, it was funny. It's hard to explain. You may have to remind me I said it was funny when I am halfway through this.

I also started thinking about how I can manage this whole process. Annie set up a support group on Whatsapp, and I have received lots of contact offering all sorts of help. The group (Ali's Super Support) is now also known as the ASS Saver group. Is that irony. Ass Saver for breast cancer, or perhaps the group is just confused.

I feel humbled by the offers of support and I have promised to ask for it when needed.

I asked the Consultant if I could go on holiday. He said No. So I am flying to Portugal imminently.

No..I am not that daft. I kept asking him until he said yes with some travel recommendations.

I get one day off when I return and then the diary starts filling up.

Joie de vivre! (Sorry...don't know any Portuguese!)