Mostly I felt optimistic thought the diagnostic procedures. I had statistics , age, genetic history, and health on my side.
But the day of the diagnosis was very hard. Deep inside I just knew that the result would not be favorable.
I reached the hospital a good 30 min before my appt, but could not find the courage to walk into the clinic. I was sure they would have the report and did not want to be alone when I opened it. I waited in the lobby of the hospital till K showed up.
We went to the surgeons office and the receptionist told me to wait for the doctor. I asked for the report , and the words Infiltrative Ductal Carcinoma just jumped at me. And then for the next 40 min, I was just sitting around with tears streaking down my face. The wind was blown out from K too… he just sat there holding me… mumbling .. “we will beat it”.. “we will fight it”…. and such like.
We met with the doc, she ran me through the next steps and everything. I cannot remember anything of what she said… but i do remember her showing us pictures of a mastectomy… Horror like I have never known, it filled my whole being.
The next step is to check for spread of the tumour to other parts of the body. To know what stage this is.
Right after I had to call my mom. When she picked up the call, I could almost feel my mother willing me to say the word “benign”, and I felt so dreadful that I could not say it.