Navy Officer to Family Man

‘Sam and I got divorced. I had a lot on my plate.’

‘I’m sorry to hear about the divorce?that must have been tough.’ Dr Wilson paused before adding, ‘Do you want my lecture on how important it is not to neglect your health now or should I save it for later?’

Juliet shook her head. ‘Save it. I know I owe it to my children to look after myself, that’s why I’m here.’

‘Fair enough. Let’s have a look at this lump, then, shall we?’

Juliet undressed and was poked and prodded for the first of what would become many times over the course of the next few days. The lump was tender but no worse than the others had been.

‘How big was it when you first noticed it?’ Dr Wilson asked.

‘About the size of a pea,’ Juliet recalled.

‘Just under a centimetre, then. It’s now between three and four. When did you notice that it had got bigger?’

‘Probably five or six weeks ago,’ Juliet estimated. It had been around the time she and Sam had gone to court, which was one reason she’d ignored it. It hadn’t reached the top of her list of priorities yet.

‘I think we need to check this out further. You can get dressed and then I’ll take some blood, and I’m also going to send you off for a mammogram. You haven’t had one before, have you?’

‘No, only ultrasounds.’

‘It can be a bit difficult to get a clear picture with a mammogram in the under forty-five age group because your breast tissue is still quite dense, but I want to do that so we can get a look at the size and shape of the lump and a clear idea of its position. I’m going to refer you for a biopsy as well but those results will take a little longer to get back.’

Juliet was dressed now and sat in the chair beside Dr. Wilson’s desk, extending her left arm, ready for blood to be drawn. The needle stung as it entered her arm and she watched the dark red blood fill up the vial, wondering what sort of nasty things her blood was harbouring.

‘I want you to have the mammogram this afternoon, and I’ll make some calls and see if I can get you in for the biopsy tomorrow,’ Dr Wilson said as she capped and labelled Juliet’s blood. ‘Is there someone who can help you with the children if the appointment times clash with school pick-ups? It might make it easier to get appointments for you if you can be flexible.’

Juliet nodded silently. She didn’t have a clue who to call but she was sure she’d think of someone once her brain had time to process all the other stuff Dr Wilson was talking about. Mammograms, biopsies, blood tests. She hadn’t actually said the word yet but Juliet knew what she was thinking. Cancer.

Juliet was struggling to get past that word. The word was stuck in her head, making it very difficult to concentrate on everything else Dr Wilson was telling her. The word was also stuck in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Perhaps she’d feel better if that word was out in the open.

‘You think I have cancer?’

Saying it out loud didn’t improve matters much. She was breathing now but the tightness in her chest had been replaced by nausea.

Dr Wilson’s reply didn’t ease her fears. ‘I think this lump is different from the fibroadenomas you already have. It’s presenting more like a tumour because it’s growing rapidly and I don’t like that. I think we need to get as much information as we can to determine what we’re dealing with but, remember, not all lumps are malignant.’

Juliet nodded but nothing else changed?she still felt nauseous, she still had a new lump in her breast.

‘Do you want to call someone now? Get someone to drive you to the breast-screening clinic?’ Dr Wilson asked.

‘No, I’m okay, I’ll drive myself,’ Juliet replied, thinking that she needed to get through the mammogram as quickly as possible to make sure she was in time to collect the children from kindy and school.

‘Okay. But can you arrange for someone to drive you to the biopsy? Your chest is likely to be quite sore once the local anaesthetic wears off and you’d be wise not to drive.’

Juliet nodded and left Dr Wilson’s surgery with referrals for the mammogram and the biopsy and a follow-up appointment for two days hence. The receptionist would ring her with a time for the biopsy.

The mammogram was not the horrific experience she had been anticipating, judging from comments she’d heard from other women over the years. It was uncomfortable but in the scheme of things it was bearable.

Maybe she was in shock, numb to what was happening around her. She felt as though she was in a nightmare. The whole day had a surreal quality to it and she half expected one of the children to wake her up at any minute. Trying to take on board everything that she was being told was proving difficult when she felt as though she was wading through thick fog. Nothing was making sense. Was it really possible that she had cancer?

She tried to think through the situation but it was virtually impossible, partly because she had no facts yet and partly because she couldn’t believe it was really happening.

She got dressed after the mammogram and hoped she was giving all the right responses as the technicians gave her more information, but her mind had already moved on to the next day and to the arrangements she would have to make. There was a message on her phone with the appointment time for the biopsy. Who would drive her to her next appointment? Perhaps she should take a taxi. Who could she ask to collect the children? She knew that this might only be the beginning of a host of favours she could need from people. If there was bad news then Dr Wilson was right?she was going to need support. Where was this going to come from?

She put those thoughts to the back of her mind while she drove to the kindergarten to collect Edward, focussing on the road and on getting there safely.

Edward’s face lit up with a delightful smile, Sam’s smile, when he saw her waiting to collect him—it was as though her presence was a big surprise. She wondered who would collect him if something happened to her and then quickly pushed that thought to the back of her mind as she hugged Ed to her when he arrived at her feet at full speed. He was closely followed by his best friends, Jake and Rory—they’d met on their first day of three-year-old kindergarten and were almost always together, like the three musketeers. Their mothers, Anna and Gabby, had become good friends of Juliet’s by association and she wondered if their friendship would stretch a little further if she needed their help.

She saw Gabby arriving to collect Rory, running late as usual. Gabby waved and came straight over to Juliet. ‘Hi, how are you? Rory was wondering if Ed would like to come for a play. Would that suit you?’ Gabby asked, not pausing for breath. She always did things at a fast pace and was always busy, and Juliet sometimes wondered if she ever slept.

‘Is there any chance you could have him tomorrow instead?’ Juliet hated asking but if Gabby was offering to have Edward surely she wouldn’t mind if it was tomorrow and not today? ‘I need to have some tests done and I’m not supposed to drive afterwards.’

The boys, sensing that their mothers weren’t in a hurry to leave, had made a beeline for the playground adjacent the kindergarten. Gabby and Juliet wandered in that direction too.

‘Are you having eye tests?’ Gabby asked.

Juliet knew that eye tests often involved eyedrops that dilated pupils, making driving difficult. She wished it was something that simple. She supposed she should explain; she would end up telling Gabby at some point anyway as she was sure to need her help. ‘No. I have to have a biopsy. I found a lump in my breast.’

Juliet heard Gabby’s sharp intake of breath and saw her eyes widen. ‘When did this happen?’

‘I noticed it a while back but I was at the doctor today.’

‘And you’re straight in for a biopsy?’

Juliet knew Gabby was considering the timeline, recognising the sense of urgency. ‘I had a mammogram today. My GP wants the information as quickly as possible.’

‘Have you got any info yet?’

Juliet shook her head. ‘No, the mammogram results will go straight to my GP and to the surgeon for tomorrow.’

‘How are you getting to tomorrow’s appointment?’ Gabby was firing questions at Juliet, once again barely pausing for breath.

‘I’ll catch a cab.’

‘Why don’t I drive you? I’ll make sure you get home and then I’ll pick up the boys and Kate and bring them home later.’

‘What about work?’

Gabby waved a hand, dismissing Juliet’s protests. ‘Finn’s around. I’ll just tell him he’ll need to manage the gallery—it doesn’t need both of us there.’

Gabby and her husband owned an upmarket art gallery and travelled frequently. Juliet started to protest and then stopped herself. As much as she didn’t like to ask for help, she would have to get used to it, just as she would have to get used to accepting help when it was offered. ‘If you’re sure, that would be fabulous. I’m a bit apprehensive.’

‘Of course you are, anyone would be, but I’m sure it will all be fine.’

Juliet wished she could be so certain. She was expecting bad news, she could almost feel it coming, but she didn’t comment. She called to Edward, told him they needed to collect Kate, and then gave Gabby the details of where and when the appointment was, and agreed to be ready an hour before.

The next week was a whirlwind of appointments. Juliet saw the specialist and had a core biopsy under a local anaesthetic; she had a follow-up with her GP and then went back to the specialist. It was all she could do to keep track of which doctor she was seeing on which day, which hospital she had to be at and which forms she needed to take with her, without having to worry about the routine things like feeding the children. Fortunately Gabby was fabulous. She stepped in and basically ran Juliet’s life for her, taking over all the general household chores and giving Juliet time to deal with the doctors and to hug her children. Over the next week Gabby alternated between being Juliet’s taxi service, nanny, personal shopper and cook, but even Gabby couldn’t stop the downward spiral that was Juliet’s medical condition.