When we got home from the doctors last night I felt like I do every time we leave there, like someone punched me in the stomach and laughed when I fell on the ground.
This time my doctor told us that my cancer is triple negative for all the hormones, which we knew. But this time he told us I should get tested for the BRAC1 and 2 gene (what Angelina Jolie has). And that I should only test myself for it if I’m going to do something about it if it comes back positive…basically have a double mastectomy and my ovaries cut out. But Dr Sharma gives you a look, this look where he’s telling you it’s most likely going to be positive and you should mentally prepare yourself for it. It’s that look where you try so hard to just keep your shit together. And as we learned last time they don’t have very good tissues in there.
So even if it is positive we could try for another baby after my treatment is finished and then we could have all the surgeries. But that’s not the part that really bothered me. Not that part that kicked me.
The chemo ‘injection’ that the referred to all along is really me on a drip for 2 hours. 16 hours in total of sitting with poison dripping into me. I can’t bare the thought of it and feel just so f*cking awful thinking about it. I have about 4 weeks before I’ll have to do it and I’m screaming inside right now.
Also it turns out that my private medical doesn’t cover egg harvesting, and the NHS probably won’t pay for us to have it done as we already have one baby. So we’ll be paying out of pocket. That’s what emergency savings are for right?