Start spreading the news

The first phone call I received on 19 April was from Mercy Radiography wanting to book me in for a MRI scan on 23 April. “Hmmm“ thought Frana “that can’t be good”. I wasn’t very surprised to be called shortly afterwards by Steve, my breast surgeon, with the news that he had my biopsy results and it was breast cancer and it had spread to my biopsied lymph node. He arranged to meet me on the Wednesday to make a surgical plan and he let me know he’d referred me for a MRI scan. “Yes, I know“ I said “My scan is on Friday. They must have got off the phone to you and called me immediately. That’ll teach you for stopping to eat lunch.”

It was indeed lunch time. I called my husband and emailed my work mates with my news and then went off for my scheduled facial. It is difficult to get an appointment with the talented Lauren and I was not going to let a bit of cancer ruin the chance of younger looking skin.

So the lovely ladies at The Face Place became the first people I told in person. Now let me tell you there are many shitty things about having cancer and one of the shittiest is telling other people. It’s hard because I tend to hang out with people who quite like me (or at least do an excellent job of pretending to do so) so the news shocks and hurts them. At the end of my appointment I was introduced to Dee, a breast cancer survivor and a new fabulous, supportive, informative, warrior friend.

After my appointment I drove straight to my parents’ house. They have already lost one child - my sister Natasha died of meningococcal septicaemia in 2001. Who exactly is equipped to deliver news like this to their Mum and Dad? I tried my best to reassure them. “Look at me, I am not sick. I am fine. I feel fine.” Mum is a breast cancer survivor and she knows that how you feel is probably not an indication of what might be happening inside you. She got out the baking and we had cups of tea. I didn’t feel like eating (that happens hardly ever). Even home made cakes and biscuits felt like sawdust in my mouth.

I stopped at the pharmacy to pick up my migraine medication and my radiographer, Jeremy, called me. He had the results as well and wanted to check how the biopsy sites were healing. We had a chat and I over shared because he was sympathetic and it was a relief to talk to someone who didn’t really know me. I sat in the car for quite a while after the call ended. I had to tell my daughter next and I was dreading it.