My breast cancer story started in April 2014. I was 48 years old. I noticed a lump in my right breast, but thought as many people must, that it couldn’t possibly be anything to worry about, so I left it for a couple of weeks, checking every so often whether it had “disappeared” magically. Of course, it didn’t, so I made an appointment to see one of the female GP’s at my surgery. The GP brought in a chaperone while she examined me. I could tell by the GP’s expression that she suspected that it could be cancer, so wasn’t surprised when she said that she was going to refer me, fast track, to the hospital. Before this appointment, I didn’t mention the lump to anyone – I didn’t want to face up to the possibility that it could be anything at all to worry about. That evening, I told my husband.

My hospital appointment was at Stafford Hospital in the Easter school holidays 2014. I had done lots of searching on the internet to find out what might happen at the appointment, but still didn’t really know what to expect. Firstly I was given a mammogram – my first one, as I wasn’t yet of the age for routine mammograms. This was then looked at and then, because they could obviously see that there was “something” there, I was then taken into a small room for a more detailed scan. Then, in order to look in even more detail, I was given several biopsies, which involved a needle into my breast and into the areas of concern. When I think of this now, it sounds as if it would be very painful, but I don’t remember it being too bad, so I imagine that they must have used some kind of anaesthetic. The whole process that day took about 2 hours, much longer than I had expected to be there.

I was given an appointment to return for my results in two weeks, so then spent the next two weeks googling everything I could think of to find out what they might be likely to say when I returned to the hospital – looking for anything that might confirm that it wasn’t cancer and that it was something that would just disappear by itself!

The day after my 2 hour appointment, I had arranged to go out for lunch with my friend to Trentham Gardens. She had already gone through breast cancer twice, so during our meal, I told her about the appointment I had had the day before. She was very supportive and told me me that it may be nothing to worry about, but if it did turn out to be breast cancer, it could be sorted! 

When I went back to work on the Monday after the Easter holidays, and my results appointment was due on the Wednesday, I asked two of the colleagues I worked closely with, if they could stay at the end of the school day, as I had something to tell them. One of them had also had breast cancer several years before. So, at the end of the school day, I told them that I was waiting for the results of investigations to find out whether I had breast cancer. They were obviously shocked to hear this, but again, very supportive. I was due to go to an award ceremony where one of my pupils was due to get an award the day of my results appointment, and said that I would still attend this, so that I wouldn’t let my pupil down, but they dissuaded me from going, which in hindsight was the  best thing to do.

My husband and I went to the hospital on the Wednesday to get my results. I don’t remember much about the appointment with the consultant – he must have told me it was cancer and I must have been in a state of disbelief and not really heard him – but we then went into a little room at the back of the breast care unit with a breast care nurse and she told us that it was lobular breast cancer. She drew some pictures on a piece of paper to try to explain to us what this was, and gave me a pile of leaflets.

We then left the hospital and bizarrely my husband dropped me off at ASDA carpark to pick up the car, which I then took to the garage for some reason! I remember standing outside the garage phoning my boss from my mobile and telling him that I had breast cancer. Finally the car was ready and I drove home. When I got home, for some reason, my 16 year old daughter was asleep on the sofa, so I sat in the living room, waiting for her to wake up and thinking that I would have to tell her that her mum had breast cancer. I think I woke her up in the end because I didn’t want to wait any longer. I told her, and she was great – she didn’t seem to panic or get upset, she was just very down to earth and practical about it. Her good friend (daughter of my friend, see Trentham Gardens above) had had a mum who had gone through it and got better, and that was what was going to happen to me, wasn’t it?

I didn’t want to phone my mum, then 75 and a widow, to give her the news over the phone, so my daugher and I drove the 30+ miles to her house that evening to tell her. She too was quite calm about it, but I was glad that we had told her in person. My husband phoned my son in his first year at university, to break the news to him. We then came home and I would imagine I had a fairly restless night.

The next day we had a team meeting at work. I sat through the whole meeting saying nothing about the diagnosis. I had thought it would be the best thing to go to work as normal, but in hindsight I think it might have been better to stay at home that day while I was reeling, and let my boss tell everyone. Throughout the day I then told various colleagues individually, which was, I think, much more difficult. Some people keep this sort of news to themselves, but I felt that the best thing to do was to tell everyone, and then they could support me in the journey to come.

The next few days went past in a bit of a blur. I had to go to have an MRI scan at Cannock Hospital. A friend from work offered to take me to this appointment. I didn’t have much idea of what to expect, but I had to lie on my front very still in the tunnel of the MRI machine, staying very still, for about half an hour with my arm up above my head – not the most comfortable of positions! We then went back to her house to pick up her daughter who was going out for the night, and dropped her off at her boyfriend’s and then went on the IKEA Walsall, where I had a particularly delicious cauliflower biryani in the IKEA cafe! It is strange what you remember!

At half term one of my friends suggested going to relax at a spa day. We went to the Macdonald Hill Valley Spa, which was lovely. We had massages and I had to tell the lady who was massaging me that I had breast cancer. I wondered whether she would say that I couldn’t have a massage wtih breast cancer, but it was apparently fine. We swam in the pool and relaxed on the sunbeds, then had a lovely afternoon tea in our white bathrobes. On the way back, my friend dropped me off to be picked up by my homeopath friend, who took me to see her homeopath tutor. She was training at that time and I was to be one of her case studies.

My surgery was at the beginning of June. There were about 3 weeks between the appointment when I had been told I had cancer, and the surgery – a very long 3 weeks! I had another hospital appointment, where  I seem to remember they thought they had found cancer in the other breast as well, but that turned out to be wrong, fortunately. I carried on working up to the day before my surgery. I did a lot of 1:1 work with pupils, so wanted to let the parents know that I wasn’t going to be around for a while, so I phoned them and I remember getting a bit upset on the phone as I explained. I remember the day before I left, trying to get lots of revision materials ready for my pupil. I felt very guilty that I wasn’t going to be there for her examinations. 

The night before my surgery I had to drink some very thick milkshake type drinks in cartons, which the hospital had given me. I recall them tasting quite unpleasant, and taking a long time to drink. I think I had to drink one every two or three hours and I seemed to only just finish one before I had to start the next one.

The following morning my husband and I had to be at the hospital at about 7 am to prepare for surgery. I remember sitting in the breast care unit, waiting to go down to have a wire put into my breast, to guide the surgeon to the correct place in the breast. We then went to the ward and sat in a small waiting room with several other patients and partners. It was a very hot June day and we seemed to sit there for hours! I wasn’t allowed anything to eat from about 8am, and not very much to drink, so it started to get unbearable! I was supposed to go in for my surgery sometime in the middle of the day, but here was someone already in the operating theatre who was in there for hours, and my surgery kept being moved back and back. When they finally started to prepare me for surgery at the end of the afternoon, I was dehydrated because I hadn’t been allowed to drink any water for so long, so when they tried to put the canular in my arm, they couldn’t find a vein. I hate needles at the best of times, but they tried again and again with needle after needle! I felt like a pin cushion! Finally, a doctor managed to get the needle in, and the drip was set up. I think my surgery was started at about 8pm in the end. We had thought that it had got so late that my surgery might have to be moved to the next day, but fortunately they fitted me in. I walked to the operating theatre, and the last thing I remember was counting down as I lay on the bed, and then waking up several hours later.

I was taken to a single room, rather than a ward, and remember sitting up in bed, then suddenly feeling very sick and being sick into one of those cardboard hats! My husband told the nurses that I should be left alone to be sick as I have never wanted anyone to watch that!! He then went home and I was left alone, which gave me time to think about what I had just been through.

I eventually fell asleep  and seem to remember sleeping quite well for most of the night. I think I had to ring the nurse whenever I wanted to go to the toilet, so I could be supervised. 

My husband came back in the morning, with some boxes of sweets for the nurses, to apologise for shouting at them in his stressful state the day before! Eventually we were allowed to leave and go home. My homeopath friend came round with some homeopathic tablets to help with healing and with coping with the stress of the whole situation.

A couple of weeks later we were back at the hospital for my results. They told us that they had taken the whole tumour out, and that it was 43mm long! This was a bit of a shock as that seemed quite large! We couldn’t really work out whether that meant it was a long thin tumour, or a sphere with a diameter of 43mm. We decided that it must be a long thin one. I was told that I would need to have chemotherapy, to ‘mop up’ any stray cancer cells – 6 cycles of chemo, every three weeks for 18 weeks. That seemed a long time, going on until November! I was also told that I would have ‘complete hair loss’, which was a bit of a shock too.

Soon after that we went to an appointment in the chemotherapy department at Stafford Hospital, to arrange my chemo. The two main things I remember being told at that appointment were that I must check my temperature regularly , because I would be at risk of getting sepsis, and I was also given a wig catalogue from a company called Banbury Postiche, so I could select a wig that I liked. 

My friend had had her chemotherapy at home and had recommended this to me, so I asked if I could have mine at home too. This was no problem, so an organisation called Healthcare at Home was arranged to deliver my chemo every 3 weeks. I had to have my first chemotherapy treatment at the hospital, and remember the nurse telling me at one point that ‘this part of the chemo will make you feel as if you are sitting on a hedgehog!’ and it did! Also, I went to the toilet halfway through the treatment, and the nurse warned me that my urine would be red, so not to be alarmed! On the way out of the hospital we picked up a big carrier bag full of drugs!

I went home from the hospital that afternoon feeling ok and thinking that if all the chemo treatments were like that, I would be ok. We got home and my husband made quesadillas for tea, with chicken and salsa inside. This was one of my favourite meals at the time and I ate it with enthusiasm, however an hour or so later, I was feeling very sick! I have never been able to bring myself to eat quesadillas again, even 10 years later!

As the evening went on, I felt sicker and sicker, and my husband and daughter went to ASDA to get some travel sickness bands which had been recommended to me. These helped quite a bit and eventually I went to sleep. I realised afterwards that the reason I had felt sick was that I hadn’t taken anti sickness drugs before my chemo and that it is very  important to stop the nausea before it starts! Once it takes hold of you, it is very difficult to get rid of. That was the only day that I was sick over the whole of my chemo treatment.