The Discovery

Someone famous said that the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. My journey started with an itch. It was the end of November 2009 and I was happily planning for my four day birth festival to celebrate my 35th birthday. The biggest thing I was worried about was whether to invite a certain guy to the festivities. I remember being uncontrollably sad that Saturday about him and I couldn't stop crying. Which is very unlike me and my best friend in Sydney was so worried, she wanted to jump on a plane and fly up to Brisbane immediately.

It had been a tough year with the GFC affecting my work and failed relationships, but it also included a trip to South America and the opportunity to work in Melbourne. Work had picked up, boy issues had faded and No-man-vember was in full swing. I gave myself each November off from men, just to take a break and not have to deal with boy issues. Things were looking up for 2010. Then I had an itch.

I had gotten home from my cousin's birthday and was watching late night tv and my left boob had an itch. When I went to scratch it I found a few little lumps in a row - almost like a ropey formation. It was worried, but there was not much I could do late Saturday night. Sunday morning I rang my sister to seek advice. Mostly about which would be less humiliating - having my dad feel me up or my brother. There are many advantages about having doctors in the family, but a few downfalls also - like having them feel you up! I decided to call my brother, but as he wasn't available until the afternoon, I went to see my father early Sunday morning. Not wanting to unnecessarily worry my excessively worrying mother, I asked to see Dad, which only served to worry my mother further. After being palpated by my father, he suggested that the lump may be fatty deposit, but would be wise to have an ultrasound just to make sure.

The next morning, armed with the morning off work, a referral and my worried mother, I went to the x-ray place. I had managed to calm myself into a state of believing that this was going to be a pain-free embarrassing event and I should be more diligent with self breast checks in the future. When I pointed out the area of concern to the sonographer, she seemed unfazed by what I had found. I felt relief for about 8 seconds until she had discovered something far more interesting, which she bought to my attention by saying, 'I know you were concerned by those small lumps, but have you felt this very large hard lump in the middle of your breast?'. I was shocked to discover that during my (not very) thorough self breast examination I had failed to feel the Uranus sized lump located in the middle of my breast. She took a few pictures of it and asked for me to wait for the films to be developed. I was still unconcerned by the large black mass I saw on the screen, and while waiting for the films, I was discussing lunch options with my mother. When I was called back to the desk, she advised me that in the 2.7 minutes since my ultrasound, that the radiographer had spoken to my father and they are 'just' going to stick a need in the large lump to see what it is. I rather enjoyed the use of the word 'just' as a pre-fix when discussing sticking needles in me. It's almost if they use the word 'just' it acts as a local anaesthetic, so there is no pain.

I returned the next day, once again armed with my mother for the biopsy. Looking at the ultrasound as they guided the needle through the large dark lump was scary, but I couldn't look away. We were advised that the results would be available in the morning, but that it looked like it was a fibroid adenoma. After googling and asking a few doctor friends, I decided not to worry and went to the movies that night. It was Tuesday night and I thought the worst part of the week was being felt up by my father and having to sit through 'Twilight - New Moon' - God, I couldn't have been more wrong.