I’ve not written a post in a little while. The charity is crazy busy and the life of Reilly play, film, plans are matching it with hours consumed at the minute which is good, I think but my head has also been elsewhere. Distracted and anxious.
For the last few months I’ve had a niggle in my right boob. I have literally felt a right tit numerous times a day over the last few weeks, something feeling just not right. Its probably nothing. But as a mama probably isn’t enough so off I went to my GP with Shane in tow to talk about it. We shall see what becomes of it, probably nothing but I can’t afford to pee about. Apparently because I’m under 50 and don’t have a definite lump I don’t meet the criteria but I didn’t leave until I had a referral.
Reilly’s last few nights of no sleep has given me the chance to do what I do best. Catastrophise. There is no better time than 4am to get those horrific thoughts flowing. I’m not the first and i’ll not be the last woman with the 4am fears. Its the first time I have ever seriously questioned my mortality, sat and talked to Shane about will’s and arrangements etc. Not comfy conversations but so necessary.
As a parent you want to be immortal, as a parent to a non verbal autistic child I need immortality and then some. I actually played through the scenario in my head and cried at the thought of my boy not knowing where I was. Would he understand? He relies so heavily on me alone its unbearable to think about. So when a GP says its rare for something to happen l reply with so is losing your brother at 32 to a ‘rare’ heart condition. I take no chances.
I am merely trying to cover my bases, second base in this instance because its the only thing to do. So off I went this morning to the breast clinic to get checked. Appointment came through quickly thankfully. Consultant agreed there was a difference and sent me for a mammogram and ultrasound straight away. Jesus they are tense times those waiting rooms. I am very happy to say no cancer. Dense, thicker area but not cancer. The relief is huge.
Check your bristols lasses, don’t just share hearts on Facebook or say you’re wearing red knickers in the Bahamas or whatever the latest thing is on Facebook and if it doesn’t feel right get cracking. I know several ladies early forties who have had breast cancer in the last year or so and to them and all the others facing breast cancer daily I send my love xx