It turns out there is a C word that’s worse than cancer.
I had such a good day yesterday. Was so positive about my surgery on Tuesday etc. We had arranged a baby-free evening but had to go to see my doctor first to nail down the details. First thing he wanted was another mammogram of my right breast. They have all x-rays triple checked by different radiologists just to make sure they hadn’t missed anything. So 3squashed views later my chest is aching and I pulled a muscle trying to get into their crazy positions. But it’s all clear so that was good.
Then he told me his news. My cancer doesn’t respond to oestrogen or herceptin. He will confirm it with pathology after it’s removed, but it means I have to have chemotherapy.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so upset. It’s pure poison that could send me into menopause and cause all sorts of terrible problems (don’t Google, I made that mistake at 4am). He’s suggesting 6 injections over 18 weeks, one every three weeks. Then towards the end of chemo 3-4 weeks of radiation.
Before we start the chemo we are going to do egg harvesting and freeze some embryos in the hope that I’d be able to get pregnant again. He said I will definitely have to wait two years but that he’s hoping I’d be able to have another baby.
I’m not going back to work for many months apparently with everything that will be going on.
I’m so glad on Cancer Day 2 Elliott and I went and bought some really good waterproof mascara because yesterday I was that girl crying outside the cancer centre.