When's a sausage not a sausage...!

Those that know me well, know that I tend to keep things private. It’s not about privacy really. More that I rarely believe that what I am doing can possibly be of interest to others.

To be fair, I have never been the chatty type. Unless of course the cocktails are flowing….!

However, there have been specific journeys in my life that I have shared. My recent sojourn into property renovation as That There Builder Girl was one such episode and I enjoyed writing about the experience.

The Builder Girl epistle was mostly for my Mum but she is no longer with us. So perhaps this one is for me so I can understand how far I progress in the lengthy journey ahead.

And so it begins!

In July I discovered a lump. I wasn’t specifically looking; not checking as per NHS guidelines. Just having a shower.

I felt a sausage shaped lump. Not a Cumberland sausage, more like a cocktail sausage (without the bacon wrap and excluding the cocktail stick).

A quickly organised GP appointment led to a visit to Bristol's Southmead Breast Clinic within a couple of weeks.

Order of the day - an examination and then a mammogram.

Depending on the outcome, I would be invited to stay on for an ultrasound and maybe a biopsy.

Always one to get my moneys' worth, I had the full treatment before a final consultation at which I was informed they were almost certain it was cancer (95% sure). The biopsy results would state the type and grade of cancer but that was for another appointment at another time.

I asked was it likely that I was in the 5% category and that they had it wrong. Nope, they said.

Did I have any questions? I wanted to know if they thought Europe would win the Ryder Cup this year but it didn’t seem right to ask. No other questions came to mind.

25 July 2023. A week after my something or other birthday!

Within two weeks, there followed an appointment to discuss the biopsy results. Not a discussion I planned to have on my own so I dragged BFF Annie along. This time it was a Consultant whose surname is so long she asked to be called Sasi. Not just a doctor but a surgical consultant - perhaps a hint as to what the future may hold.

I put my best face on. So did Sasi. Straight in with the diagnosis. Grade of cancer, type of cancer. Probable treatment. MRI, clip insertion. Definitely chemotherapy. Definitely surgery. Possibly radiotherapy. Possibly 18 weeks.

Only the Oncologist can decide the best treatment. But best to be prepared.

Okey dokey I said.

Annie was more specific and succinct.

She asked lots of questions. What does that mean, type of questions. Can you repeat that again please. Does that mean this or does it mean that? I think Sasi was very impressed. Sasi had to manage her role all by herself whereas I had the Annie. No question left un-asked.

We then met Lorraine - a breast cancer nurse and the person who will be my point of contact going forward. She went through everything again. There is a reason they do it like this. I couldn’t remember half the stuff that Sasi told us.

Lorraine confirmed the next steps - MRI, Oncology appointment and a 'clip insertion' into my left boob at the site of the tumour. She also gave me some reading materials, obviously to help understand the process.

When we left Southmead, they set me up with a parking permit for future visits and wrote to my local Doctor to let her know the results.

I decided that Annie had passed her trial interview at this session and re-booked her for the follow up appointment at the Bristol Haematology and Oncology Centre.

Lucky girl!