And the winner is...
So I went back to the surgeon, and saw his resident, because, well I guess he's entitled to, he was on holidays. Age and experience are vastly different between the surgeon, and his resident. Which probably accounts for his total blasé attitude while discussing the tumour they removed from my breast.
Apparently, it was 3.5cm, with a margin of 1mm to my skin, 3mm to my chest muscle, and 1cm on each other side. It was a high grade tumour, meaning it grows quickly, has both progesterone and estrogen hormone receptors attached to the cancerous cells, and has been successfully removed. Great, right?
My heart friend who was with me couldn't understand why I wasn't ecstatic at the news. I mean, I'm happy that its gone, but my gut feels uneasy. Very uneasy. Too close. Those margins...too close.
There will be a meeting in two weeks between surgeon, oncologist, and whoever else is involved in these things, to discuss my case and what they suggest happens next, and I will see them a week later. When I go, I want to be far more informed then I was the other day.
I have been researching and reading articles on Breast Cancer Network Australia, Cancer Australia, McGrath Foundation, National Breast Cancer Foundation , and have joined a support group on Facebook for Younger Women with Breast Cancer. They have been a god send.
This is MY body, and I don't want to be 6 months down the track only to have to go through this again - or worse. I want to be proactive, not reactive. Informed, not naïve. I'm intelligent woman, who isn't prepared to put blind faith in the medical profession.
I'm also a scared woman, in the midst of yet another round of trauma... god damn C-PTSD.