That moment when you get diagnosed with breast cancer a few months after being told the good news about not having a BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutation.
Yeah. I just had that.
I've been debating what to do about this blog. I know I'll want a place to rant over the next few months, and an easy way to keep anyone who knows me and who wants to know what's going on up to date. But I also feel strongly about my original plan to keep a blog about being a non-BRCA mutant and record the stuff I find out about that. I'm too lazy to keep two blogs. I've decided to keep this original blog going but now it will also include my experiences of fighting cancer. So what I did intend to keep as a fairly anonymous log of information about HBOC is about to get very personal (and very sweary).
I will keep my original posts there as it's useful background but I will reintroduce myself properly now...
4 August 2014
My name is Sarah, I'm 33 years old, I live in Leicester (UK) and I've just been diagnosed with breast cancer. I've had various tests and don't have all the results yet, but I know I have a grade 1, 22mm tumour, as well as a smaller 6mm lump and some lymph nodes that appear somewhat dodgy (the first biopsies only showed atypical C3 cells, not cancerous cells, but bearing in mind there's definite cancer nearby, they have taken more biopsies to look again). I don't yet know what stage the cancer is, or what hormones it is feeding off (or not). But I would bet that it's ER+. I don't yet have a firm treatment plan - I go back to see my surgeon this Friday, 8 August, but it looks like surgery at the end of August, followed by chemo and then possibly radiotherapy. At first I was shitting myself about the treatments but now I say BRING IT ON. I want this thing gone, and asap. I've got a life to get on with.
The genetics clinic were a bit stunned by my diagnosis. My DNA has now been sent straight off to a research study that's going to look at 97 of my genes to see if that can work out what specific kind of mutant I am. And I now have the go ahead for not just getting rid of the cancer but lobbing both sides off asap to stop this from happening again. Good riddance.
People have been so lovely to me, and keep telling me I have an amazing attitude. I'm just going to say here, for the record, I'm terrified. And fucking pissed off.