Wednesday, November 21, 2018

Breast cancer scare: the mammogram, the ultrasound and the biopsy

So I’ve reached the giddy heights of 45 and in New Zealand that means you join the nationwide breastscreening programme. Last month, I had my first ever mammogram.


The nurses who gave me the mammogram were all very nice people and they showed me the photos and said that my breast tissue all looked fine. So far, so good.


Then last Thursday the breastscreening team’s lead nurse called. She said that the radiologist wasn’t happy with an area of my left breast. Would I come in for a 3D mammogram and perhaps an ultrasound?
I said ok, obviously, and she said I couldn’t get in done in Queenstown because they don’t have the equipment there. Instead, I’d need to go to Dunedin Hospital.


OK, I said again. My dad and my sister live in Dunedin so I could make a weekend of it. We made an appointment for Saturday at 10.40am.


I left home on Saturday morning at 6am to drive the 3.5 hours down to Dunedin. It was a misty morning and I saw rabbits all through central Otago but very few vehicles. Coming through Alexandra I had my lights on full beams and could still only see 50 metres ahead of me. It was really eerie and quiet but the sun came out by the time I got to Roxburgh for breasfast.


My sister had said she would come with me, which was very nice of her as she was giving up one of her few free Saturdays to come. So at 10.30, in we rocked into Dunedin hospital.


The nurse explained that the 3D mammogram would give a much better picture of my breast tissue, and then the radiologist might want to do an ultrasound. That all sounded fine.


But then suddenly it wasn’t. They found something in the left breast and neither the radiologist or the nurse could tell what it was, never mind how many times they poked and prodded.


So the radiogist announced she wanted to take a biopsy. Up until this point, I’d been relatively calm, with my medically trained sister telling me that of all the people who get called back in after their mammogram, only 5 per cent have cancer. Now I started to realise that I might be in that 5 per cent.


So we went away, had a lovely lunch at Ombrello’s, and returned for the biopsy at 1.15pm. It didn’t hurt at all and it didn’t bleed from the tiny hole they made so it was not too bad. Better than having my nether regions stitched up after having Sofia, anyway.


And then I was discharged and we went up to my dad’s house for afternoon tea.


The nurse said the results would be discussed at their team meeting on Wednesday and she’d call me at 4.30pm after the meeting. SHe also gave me her office number in case I needed to call her.


Over the next few days, I tried to keep busy. Luckily I had a lot of writing work to do so that helped.


And then yesterday, I kept checking my phone obsessively. 4.30pm came and went. No call. I called the numbers the nurse had given me 5 times. No answer. On the 6th call at 5.06pm, she answered.


‘The 5 radiologists at the meeting all agreed that what we’re looking at is benign breast tissue,’ she said. “So that’s good news for you. We’ll see you again in 2 years.’


I could have hugged her, if she’d been there to hug.


Can’t say enough about how friendly, efficient and professional all the women I met on Saturday were. If I did have breast cancer, I’d be very glad to have them on my case.


And now, back to work! Champagne tonight, for sure...



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