Check your boobs - a more personal post from Katy!
Today I went to have my boobs checked at Swindon hospital. All is fine. Lefty is just a fucking trickster. I just thought that actually this is quite important so wanted to share.
Before the appointment
About 4 weeks ago my left boob started really hurting. I didn’t think much of it - having a toddler who regularly uses his pointy little elbow to dig into me as an aid to getting off the sofa I figured it was just battered and bruised so thought to myself ‘give it a few days’. After a week it was still hurting so I had a good poke about check - something I do pretty regularly anyway. And there was an unusual ‘something’. Not an obvious lump as such, but definitely something that felt weird and out of the norm.
I made myself a doctors appointment. She gave me a fairly brief once over and then gave me a referral to the breast clinic. A ‘2 week urgent referral’ - apparently urgent is the norm for anything boob-related, but that doesn’t make those words any less terrifying. That appointment was the 4th Feb... otherwise known as WORLD CANCER DAY. Cue getting home to a million posts on social media. That was fun and didn’t at all feel like a terrible omen.
The letter for the referral arrived the following Wednesday, (super fast!) and also mentioned the ‘C’ word way too many times for my liking.
For 10 days my anxiety was at probably the highest level it has ever been. I don’t tend to ‘worry’ a lot, I pretty much just crack on - but I get all the physical side effects of anxiety quite often (just look them up if you’re interested I don’t need to go into that right now) and this was the worst it has ever been. I didn’t tell anyone except my amazing husband - and I had to tell my sister because I needed her to look after Milo for the appointment. For the entire 10 days leading up to the appointment I checked that ‘thing’ probably every 20 minutes during waking hours. I checked in different positions, at all hours of the day - sometimes I could find it (so was convinced I had breast cancer) other times I couldn’t (so was convinced I was going mad/imagining things/being dramatic.) and the swinging backwards and forwards between those two feelings was exhausting. I obsessively compared lefty to righty, did research on how to PROPERLY check in case I had done it wrong. I spent every waking moment imagining the different outcomes, wondering what treatment I might have to have, how my family would cope, whether I’d want to just fuck everything off and move to the seaside immediately because I might not be able to do that next year when we plan to if I was having treatment... then rationalising with myself that actually it was probably nothing (but also what if it was?!) after about a week of that it settled down a bit - it was still there but I felt more resigned to a ‘what will be will be’.
During the appointment.
We got to the hospital, the quiet lady at reception gave me a form to fill in. We sat down almost straight away a nurse came and called my name - for some reason I told Jonny to stay in the waiting room - I kind of thought they would talk to me first and he didn’t need to be with me for that bit.... they didn’t. She popped me in a cubicle - ‘take off all your clothes, put the gown on either way round then walk down the corridor through the double doors and wait.’
Okie doke. Hang on, does she mean take EVERYTHING off? Can I leave my pants on? It’s only a boob they need to look at. Shall I go backwards robe or forwards? Forwards seems more logical, the opening is at the front then. But everyone else is backwards. Nah fuck it... forwards. Ok. Can I keep my shoes on? I’m not wandering around a hospital barefoot. Argh. WHERE DO I PUT ALL MY STUFF MY BAG ISN’T MASSIVE. I’m taking a photo to send to Jonny this gown is snazzy and I’m definitely not procrastinating. And so on...
Credit where it’s due, they saw me mega fast. I was early for my appointment and they saw me early. Had a scan - (like when you scan for a baby but not as interesting or fun) and when the doctor squirted the gel on me it did that ketchup-spatter thing on my face which was gross and made me snigger. He said there was a hard lump (VINDICATED! I DIDN'T IMAGINE IT!) of glandular/milk duct tissue but that it was fine. But he also made me look at the scans and talked a lot about how it looked like an ocean and that cancer comes from the Greek for crab because it looks like a crab... he was quite poetic... he lost me a bit.
Then I popped my boob away (had to ask for more tissue to wipe off the gel, there was a LOT) and had to go back to wait again to see the breast surgeon. Just routine. Text Jonny (in the waiting room down the corridor) to say all was fine, definitely no crabs (?!) told him my boob kept trying to escape my gown. ‘Not the place to be making it sexy!’ Was his reply.
Saw the breast surgeon, chatted about the kids, my shoes, the fact my trainers are ‘breast cancer awareness pink.’ - hadn’t thought about that when I put them on, they’re just good shoes. She had a good old feel about, confirmed there is a lumpy bump there but it’s all normal.
Why?
The reason I wanted to share this little essay is mostly because I feel like I have a responsibility - The studio has a current active base of 270 students and over 1100 in the Facebook group, most of which are female and if this prompts some of them to check themselves more regularly or to go see the doctor about a concern they have then that’s good. It’s also because I didn’t know what to expect from the appointment which made my anxiety crazy bad so if you ever have to go for one, now you have a general idea. It really isn't that bad. You just might get scan jelly up your nose.
I spent almost 2 weeks worrying that I might die, which may surprise some people who seem to think I am constantly level headed and rational and have everything including my emotions in check. I know my husband also spent that time worrying I might die although we didn’t actually say that bit to each other. It was a pretty dark time for us both - we are lucky to have each other and didn’t really want anyone else involved at that point, but it was a fairly lonely place to be (lonely together which again is pretty lucky). So if you happen to go through something similar - you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but please know you aren’t on your own, and if you do want to talk about it or just have a question then hit me up. Compared to a lot of people I just got off really lightly and I am aware of that. Lots of love and crazy respect to those warriors having to deal with getting the result they really didn't want.
In short - for the good of your mental health as well as your physical, you must get checked over if you feel something isn’t right. When they said everything was fine I felt truly, truly daft. What a waste of everyone’s time/NHS resources. What a waste of 2 weeks brain power when I should have been writing an essay (which is still due next week...) or concentrating on work. How stupid of me to cause my lovely husband to worry. I think these feelings are normal and I still feel a bit silly but do you know what’s worse than feeling silly? Cancer. Cancer is worse. It was 100% worth going.
The other reason I wanted to post about this, is to get people to think outside of their own lives just a little bit. I think I am a supportive person - I’m certainly happy to listen, offer advice, ask how people are and when I ask I genuinely want to know the answer. The reason I didn’t mention this to anyone was threefold - firstly, I didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily. Secondly, I realised fairly early on that if it had been bad news I would have wanted a bit of time to process that myself before having to answer anyone else’s questions. Thirdly - I didn't really feel at any point I was given the opportunity.
You see it all the time - memes about talking to your strong friends, your calm friends, the ones who support everyone else - I never really thought much of it until this week. I don’t resent people telling me their woes, I love being the go-to guy and I generally cope with it quite well but it is a two way street. To those of you who asked how I was - thankyou, and sorry I lied. I actually was not fine. I am now though. To those of you who didn’t - check yourselves. Like, your boobs, your friends and your bloody attitude. If the right person had asked me the question this week - ‘how is everything? What’s new?’ I may have actually wanted to confide. But they didn’t. Have actual conversations. I'm aware that I may have been guilty of this too from time to time, we all get wrapped up in our stuff - but from now on if you ask me how I am, I will always try and remember to ask how you are too and I will pay attention to the answer.
Moving on.
I'm not after sympathy because I know I'm lucky and I absolutely don't need it. I am healthy, I have good friends and a frankly bloody incredible husband. I needed to vent and get some stuff out and I wanted to make sure that checking yourselves is in the front of your minds and that is really it - but if you have any practical questions or want to know any more details I'm very happy to chat. I also wanted to remind you to actually pay attention to your friends and ask the important questions. Questions that can't just be answered with 'yep, I'm fine'. Because it might actually make a difference to them.
Before the appointment
About 4 weeks ago my left boob started really hurting. I didn’t think much of it - having a toddler who regularly uses his pointy little elbow to dig into me as an aid to getting off the sofa I figured it was just battered and bruised so thought to myself ‘give it a few days’. After a week it was still hurting so I had a good poke about check - something I do pretty regularly anyway. And there was an unusual ‘something’. Not an obvious lump as such, but definitely something that felt weird and out of the norm.
I made myself a doctors appointment. She gave me a fairly brief once over and then gave me a referral to the breast clinic. A ‘2 week urgent referral’ - apparently urgent is the norm for anything boob-related, but that doesn’t make those words any less terrifying. That appointment was the 4th Feb... otherwise known as WORLD CANCER DAY. Cue getting home to a million posts on social media. That was fun and didn’t at all feel like a terrible omen.
The letter for the referral arrived the following Wednesday, (super fast!) and also mentioned the ‘C’ word way too many times for my liking.
For 10 days my anxiety was at probably the highest level it has ever been. I don’t tend to ‘worry’ a lot, I pretty much just crack on - but I get all the physical side effects of anxiety quite often (just look them up if you’re interested I don’t need to go into that right now) and this was the worst it has ever been. I didn’t tell anyone except my amazing husband - and I had to tell my sister because I needed her to look after Milo for the appointment. For the entire 10 days leading up to the appointment I checked that ‘thing’ probably every 20 minutes during waking hours. I checked in different positions, at all hours of the day - sometimes I could find it (so was convinced I had breast cancer) other times I couldn’t (so was convinced I was going mad/imagining things/being dramatic.) and the swinging backwards and forwards between those two feelings was exhausting. I obsessively compared lefty to righty, did research on how to PROPERLY check in case I had done it wrong. I spent every waking moment imagining the different outcomes, wondering what treatment I might have to have, how my family would cope, whether I’d want to just fuck everything off and move to the seaside immediately because I might not be able to do that next year when we plan to if I was having treatment... then rationalising with myself that actually it was probably nothing (but also what if it was?!) after about a week of that it settled down a bit - it was still there but I felt more resigned to a ‘what will be will be’.
During the appointment.
We got to the hospital, the quiet lady at reception gave me a form to fill in. We sat down almost straight away a nurse came and called my name - for some reason I told Jonny to stay in the waiting room - I kind of thought they would talk to me first and he didn’t need to be with me for that bit.... they didn’t. She popped me in a cubicle - ‘take off all your clothes, put the gown on either way round then walk down the corridor through the double doors and wait.’
Okie doke. Hang on, does she mean take EVERYTHING off? Can I leave my pants on? It’s only a boob they need to look at. Shall I go backwards robe or forwards? Forwards seems more logical, the opening is at the front then. But everyone else is backwards. Nah fuck it... forwards. Ok. Can I keep my shoes on? I’m not wandering around a hospital barefoot. Argh. WHERE DO I PUT ALL MY STUFF MY BAG ISN’T MASSIVE. I’m taking a photo to send to Jonny this gown is snazzy and I’m definitely not procrastinating. And so on...
Credit where it’s due, they saw me mega fast. I was early for my appointment and they saw me early. Had a scan - (like when you scan for a baby but not as interesting or fun) and when the doctor squirted the gel on me it did that ketchup-spatter thing on my face which was gross and made me snigger. He said there was a hard lump (VINDICATED! I DIDN'T IMAGINE IT!) of glandular/milk duct tissue but that it was fine. But he also made me look at the scans and talked a lot about how it looked like an ocean and that cancer comes from the Greek for crab because it looks like a crab... he was quite poetic... he lost me a bit.
Then I popped my boob away (had to ask for more tissue to wipe off the gel, there was a LOT) and had to go back to wait again to see the breast surgeon. Just routine. Text Jonny (in the waiting room down the corridor) to say all was fine, definitely no crabs (?!) told him my boob kept trying to escape my gown. ‘Not the place to be making it sexy!’ Was his reply.
Saw the breast surgeon, chatted about the kids, my shoes, the fact my trainers are ‘breast cancer awareness pink.’ - hadn’t thought about that when I put them on, they’re just good shoes. She had a good old feel about, confirmed there is a lumpy bump there but it’s all normal.
Why?
The reason I wanted to share this little essay is mostly because I feel like I have a responsibility - The studio has a current active base of 270 students and over 1100 in the Facebook group, most of which are female and if this prompts some of them to check themselves more regularly or to go see the doctor about a concern they have then that’s good. It’s also because I didn’t know what to expect from the appointment which made my anxiety crazy bad so if you ever have to go for one, now you have a general idea. It really isn't that bad. You just might get scan jelly up your nose.
I spent almost 2 weeks worrying that I might die, which may surprise some people who seem to think I am constantly level headed and rational and have everything including my emotions in check. I know my husband also spent that time worrying I might die although we didn’t actually say that bit to each other. It was a pretty dark time for us both - we are lucky to have each other and didn’t really want anyone else involved at that point, but it was a fairly lonely place to be (lonely together which again is pretty lucky). So if you happen to go through something similar - you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but please know you aren’t on your own, and if you do want to talk about it or just have a question then hit me up. Compared to a lot of people I just got off really lightly and I am aware of that. Lots of love and crazy respect to those warriors having to deal with getting the result they really didn't want.
In short - for the good of your mental health as well as your physical, you must get checked over if you feel something isn’t right. When they said everything was fine I felt truly, truly daft. What a waste of everyone’s time/NHS resources. What a waste of 2 weeks brain power when I should have been writing an essay (which is still due next week...) or concentrating on work. How stupid of me to cause my lovely husband to worry. I think these feelings are normal and I still feel a bit silly but do you know what’s worse than feeling silly? Cancer. Cancer is worse. It was 100% worth going.
The other reason I wanted to post about this, is to get people to think outside of their own lives just a little bit. I think I am a supportive person - I’m certainly happy to listen, offer advice, ask how people are and when I ask I genuinely want to know the answer. The reason I didn’t mention this to anyone was threefold - firstly, I didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily. Secondly, I realised fairly early on that if it had been bad news I would have wanted a bit of time to process that myself before having to answer anyone else’s questions. Thirdly - I didn't really feel at any point I was given the opportunity.
You see it all the time - memes about talking to your strong friends, your calm friends, the ones who support everyone else - I never really thought much of it until this week. I don’t resent people telling me their woes, I love being the go-to guy and I generally cope with it quite well but it is a two way street. To those of you who asked how I was - thankyou, and sorry I lied. I actually was not fine. I am now though. To those of you who didn’t - check yourselves. Like, your boobs, your friends and your bloody attitude. If the right person had asked me the question this week - ‘how is everything? What’s new?’ I may have actually wanted to confide. But they didn’t. Have actual conversations. I'm aware that I may have been guilty of this too from time to time, we all get wrapped up in our stuff - but from now on if you ask me how I am, I will always try and remember to ask how you are too and I will pay attention to the answer.
Moving on.
I'm not after sympathy because I know I'm lucky and I absolutely don't need it. I am healthy, I have good friends and a frankly bloody incredible husband. I needed to vent and get some stuff out and I wanted to make sure that checking yourselves is in the front of your minds and that is really it - but if you have any practical questions or want to know any more details I'm very happy to chat. I also wanted to remind you to actually pay attention to your friends and ask the important questions. Questions that can't just be answered with 'yep, I'm fine'. Because it might actually make a difference to them.