Cornerstone of Life: Life is unfair

I wandered around all week like a lost fart. When it came to going to the hospital on Wednesday, I really didn't want to go. I must have known the news would be bad news.

I have breast cancer. I still can't get those words out without choking on them. When the consultant, Mr. Tan, told me, I nearly fell over. I could feel my jaw just about hitting the floor-I was that unprepared. And I cried-I'm such a crybaby!! All I kept thinking was I am going to die-and, shit, I am not ready to go. And I won't go without a fight.

So-this is a game-changer, I can tell you. I was too upset to even get near a computer on Wednesday - except to email all my friends and say hi, I have breast cancer. What an interesting way to start a conversation-not even a hi, how are you, the weather here is lovely, and by the way....how subtle!!!

I had to get on the phone with the Royal National Orthopedic Hospital-because Mr. Tan wants to perform a mastectomy before I go in for my knee surgery, and that would all have to happen the week before I go into the RNOH. So I would have the breast op and then go in for the knee op a few days later. I must be completely bonkers to even contemplate this. I put it down to the severe shock of having cancer.

Since this is a bank holiday weekend, anyone I know who could have given any emotional support is away until Monday or Tuesday. I do have a breast clinic nurse, however; her name is Sylvia. But-she isn't available on weekends or bank holidays, either. So I am on my own. Well-not exactly-I'm on my own in THIS country. My closest friend NJ was the first person I called to relay the news-and she is 100% supportive. She is also in Florida. So there goes any possibility of just going over for coffee. It's a bit of a commute. I want to move back even more now. But-there is a little question of cancer.

I cried all the way home on Wednesday (quietly, of course, since I was on a bus!). I just looked out the window and cried. And I kept thinking, I have cancer. Holy shit. There is no God. If there is a God, s/he clearly hates me. What have I ever done to piss off God? I haven't killed anyone. Yet. Whatever. I'm innocent of all major charges. I think.

So, over the two days since I received this news, when I wasn't on the phone with the immunology team, the respiratory team, the orthopedic team, and now the breast cancer team (I have so many teams. Lucky me), I have tried to calm myself down. Easy for people to say calm down, control the stress, do the mindfulness meditations-they don't have cancer, do they?? I tried to think up jokes-because as any regular bloggees know, I do my best to remain upbeat and to make jokes when I can. It's my way of coping with disaster: finding something to laugh about. I thought, well, now I don't need to go out and buy any new bras. I can use the ones I have now and just stick a sock in the other side (obviously it would be a clean sock). Then I thought I will go in for knee surgery and I will be lopsided. Imagine the poor registrar who has to do the intake exam and discovers I have only one breast. Not to mention the fact that I will be listing to one side until Mr. Tan does the reconstruction-and that won't be until next year, so I will be off balance and off kilter for ages.

I can tell you honestly that no amount of jokes worked. There is nothing funny about cancer. Nothing. It is scary as hell. I truly think that cancer is the one word that strikes fear-no, terror-in the heart of anyone who is diagnosed with it. Don't we all automatically think it is a death sentence?

Tan said not to worry, that we caught it early enough, and that he will remove the breast and the glands under my arm, and histology will provide more information. But-he wants to do the reconstruction next year, and remove the remaining breast, since I have the BRCA-1and 2 breast cancer genes in the family. Did I draw the short straw when it came to genes, or what?? Tan and Sylvia both said that I will be absolutely fine after the surgery-just sore for a couple of weeks. I should be physically recovered just in time to have a bionic knee. I think they should just transplant a healthy body (Angelina Jolie-now that one would do nicely).

I've not slept since the diagnosis-and it did occur to me this morning that we could push back the knee surgery (again!!) to August, and I will ask for a double mastectomy. As long as the consultant is in the neighborhood, so to speak, why not just remove both at once? That will save me a year's waiting and agonizing over the possibility of developing cancer in the other breast. I don't know what anyone will say to this, but it seems to be a good idea. Two traumas are better than one.

This is not my idea of a good way to lose weight. And-do a double, and next year I can tell everyone I've had a boob job.