And To Glasgow I Go Go

 It's now ding, ding, round four, of my breast investigation.  Last week, I went  for a needle core biopsy, which took a full hour and consisted of a numb knocker and fairly lengthy needles going in to me from all angles, until they were happy that most of the suspicious cells were drawn out.   It was a bit manic to me, all the machines and laser precision , X, Y and Z-ings!   Granted, I was sitting upright in a most comfortable padded leather chair and plumped up pillows, for my x-rays and such like.  They also fitted me with a titanium clip that if I remember rightly, was placed in the best position for easier access to any future precancerous or calcification cells.

My follow up appointment to the above, was yesterday.   After a brief ultrasound scan the consultant broke the news to me that all the needle insertions didn't draw out every suspect cell, despite what the monitor showed.  I still have an area of concern that the needles either didn't reach - despite all the advanced equipment - or, highly unlikely but still possible ( if it's gonna happen then I'm your gal! ),  the cells grew back quicker than Usain Bolt covering a 100m final with jets up his arse.  

This time I've to have a excisional biospy and must travel to a Glasgow hospital for the procedure - which is a right pain.  I'm 5 minutes down the road from a brand-spanking-new hospital that has a life-sized hologram woman greeting you at the main door and robots (Japan is the only other country in the world to have them) interacting with regular punters in the corridors and wards -  and I have to travel 45 miles away to undergo a bigger biopsy to no doubt cater for the size of my walloping bosom!  Some new 'convenient'  hospital for the central belt that turned out to be!  The irony is that I'm having the procedure done by one of the consultants I've been under locally anyhow!  


Confession time:  I'm of a certain mindset or disposition if you will.   Life often sucks and mother nature has been a right bitch to me over the years.  For the possible likelihood that I'd freak if back-tracking them all, I don't keep a journal of all the 'bad luck' stuff ect, that's ever gone on.  I do tend to not raise hopes much these days.  I never look forward to many things now, but I do love to recall if something's been a joy, success, or relief!   That's me!  

Anyhow, I found the consultation yesterday quite straining.   It wasn't Dr.Seth but another consultant and new nurse in the room. There was awkward pauses and he kept frowning while referring to my notes. That may have been  because a conclusion, one way or the other, was expected yesterday. Perhaps it's just that they know it's an inconvenience for people to travel to an unfamiliar town.  

But I can't help feeling there's something still to be uncovered yet.  On out way out, the nurse showed my hubby and I to a side room and gave me a card with various names and mobile numbers of local MacMillan Cancer Support nurses -  she was one herself -  to call day or night with any query, sensible or silly!  I simply thanked her and carefully put my card in my purse with all my other little bits of plastic.

  As yet, my tests have all drawn inconclusive results -and as I say, nothing confirmed one way or the other.  Looking around at all the patients filling up the chairs of the oncology clinic, for a brief moment I felt like I was in a bubble.   It was seconds later when a nurse called in a little girl called Lara, who looked around six, that I snapped back , thinking if it all does matter, I'll be capable of coping.
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