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"It's back. It's back. It's back."
Like an endless loop, those words scream in my head, my gut, every single fucking cell in my body, screaming IT'S BACK.
"No. No, its not. Lightening doesn't strike twice in the same place."
This is an example of my internal dialogue after finding a lump again in the same breast that I'd had a lumpectomy in two years previously.
Every time I felt it, a sense of familiarity came over me. I knew in my gut what it was. But denial is a river, and I got swept up in that river until the middle of June. I went to my GP and got a referral for an ultrasound, which couldn't take place for a week. I went and saw my radiation oncologist for my 6 monthly check up. He examined me, and requested that he be sent a copy of the report when it was done.
A day after the ultrasound I received a phone call from my GP requesting I come in to discuss the results. The radiologist had requested further testing - core biopsy on the lump in my right breast, and a fine needle aspiration on a lump found in my left breast.
Apparently lightening can strike in the same place twice.
I wasn't able to get an appointment for these procedure for two weeks, as the radiologist had gone on holidays. The alternative was paying $500 up front to have it done at another centre. This wasn't an option. After feeding, housing, being a bloody ATM to the Narcissist, I didn't have a spare $500 to cough up, especially to confirm what I already knew to be true. So I waited.
And the loop continued.
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