Opinion | Breast cancer blog: a scare - riding the waves
On a recent night at 3am I awoke suddenly and felt it — there it was in the left breast, a lump as hard and stationary as the first one.
On a recent night at 3am I awoke suddenly and felt it — there it was in the left breast, a lump as hard and stationary as the first one. My breath stopped, the air stopped. I felt around again, hoping that I was imagining this, only I wasn’t. WTF! &^%$*, argh…
I flipped on the lights, my thoughts down spiraling into an abyss. This can’t be happening; is it possible that a tumour could grow back so quickly (I suddenly had this image of a scene from Superman 2 where the bad guys return. Just when you think they are demolished, they regenerate and you need kryptonite). Of course it was possible, anything was possible; my cancerous tumour had sprouted up like a weed after a rain, very underhanded.
If it returned in record speed I would be one of the world’s unluckiest people.
All the positivity that I had worked so hard to create disappeared in a flash, emotions now galloping away like wild mustangs. I had an image of myself being wheeled into the operating theatre with the breast surgeon smiling at me and asking “Didn’t I see you recently?”
Then I felt incredibly sorry and angry at the left breast. Who asked it be so helpless and stupid, it was supposed to be strong enough to ward off any rogue cells and had failed to do so. It was so “mafan”.
4am. I get online and send a post to the Pink Lovelies, the Facebook community of breast cancer survivors, and shared my dilemma and fear, and awoke the next morning to their kind words and thoughts.