6. Starting the process to evict Hector

Thursday. Up, shower, boob check.....it looks like some sort of alien creature has attached itself to my chest. Like a creepy sea slug. Breakfast, call taxi, back to the airport. This taxi driver wanted to talk about politics. He used to vote Nationals, then Labor but in the last Federal election he did a donkey vote because no one was good. He thought ScoMo was an idiot and Albo wasn't much better. I wasn't in the mood to converse so added non committal grunts and hums until he started complaining about people getting payments from Centrelink and they were lazy. How to explain to someone that often people are forced to ask for help because the system has failed them, that only a very small minority might be considered lazy but then again, there are so many reasons for why someone might not be able to get or hold onto a job. I didn't push it when he disagreed and then he started on about the crazy weather and that he didn't really believe in climate change, it was just made up by the media to scare people and that Donald Trump makes some sense about cancel culture. Deep breath, don't piss off the taxi driver, don't piss off the taxi driver...don't do it! Ok, at the airport and my last comment was "You have your opinion but I think you really need to do some research outside of where you get your usual news and information from."

Flight back was uneventful. No cloud, little turbulence, no phone calls, no wondering about people's bladder or bowels. Two male pilots this time. I was in 7A, just behind the wing. Those propellers are SO LOUD! Because there was no cloud I was able to see much more of the flood damage and where the water was still flowing downstream towards towns who were madly building levies, sandbagging, evacuating. How can someone NOT believe that the climate is rapidly changing? If I heard someone say 'unprecedented' one more time I think I might scream. Coming into Sydney we flew past the city centre with a great view of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House. So many new buildings in the city now.

Landed and then the long taxi back to the 'gate', the marked spot on the tarmac. We had to sit on the plane for a bit to wait for the bus but it turned up in less than 10 minutes. Drive back to the gate, walk through the terminal, collect my bag (it came out just as I walked up to the carousel), then walk to the yellow express pick up zone where I was going to meet with Shell and Mum to pick me up. That walk is almost as long as the taxiing of the plane. I get to the yellow zone and there is a missed call on my phone. It's Dr Inder's office. I call them back and they have an appointment for tomorrow morning instead of Monday. I take it, relieved that I won't have to wait another 3 days to hear what needs to be done.

I get a call from mum, they are in the green zone! It's ok, it's only about 400m away, I'd walked through it to get to the yellow zone. I walk back again and are greeted by big hugs from both. Back home again, it's only been two nights but feels like a lifetime ago that I left.

FRIDAY! BIG DAY! Appointment with Dr Inder. Mum comes with me. Dr Inder is nice, straightforward, clearly identifies what needs to be done. Surgery asap as Hector is responding rapidly to oestrogen and a bit to progesterone and possibly to HER2. My KI-67 reading (how fast Hector is replicating) is 20-40%, hotspot 50%. Anything over 10% in considered high and urgent. Stage 2 invasive carcinoma. Invasive means Hector is able to move to other place in my body. Dr Inder looks at my mammogram and ultrasound. She says the technician spent a lot of time around my lymph nodes and they do not show anything, however, she explains that sometimes cancer cells don't how up on scans in the lymph nodes. What they do in the operation is first take the sentinel lymph node, that's the one where Hector would usually go first. They would send that to pathology while they slicing out Hector. If the report comes back clear then they close up. If there are cancer cells then they take a 'slab' of nodes for more testing. "How many?" I ask. "Everyone is different so there is not set number".

First things first. Operation to book in. She looks at her schedule and says she can kick someone off her list on Wednesday 30th November. Will I be able to get the admission paperwork completed today and hand deliver it to St George Public Hospital? Sure, I can do that. The emphasis has been it's urgent, fast growing, high numbers, asap from my GP and her so delay isn't an option. She fills out her side of the paperwork, then shows me what I have to fill out. Personal details, emergency contact, health status etc.

"Let's have a look at your breast" Dr Inder says. "I've had a lot of bruising from the biopsy" I comment as I go to the bed and strip off my top half. "Who did that to you!?" she exclaims, seeing the hideous black, blue, purple mottled mound that can't really be called a breast at this point. I tell her where the biopsy was done and she says "They must've hit a blood vessel, did you bleed a lot?" I confirmed that I did. She proceeded to walk her fingers over both boobs, pressing as hard as you would on the piano if the music said fortissimo. That's what was going through my head as her fingers sort of looked like she was playing some sort of instrument. I imagined Hector trying to hide, don't find me he would whimper. Finding Hector was difficult, I had a large hematoma just to the south east. Dr Inder gently grasped the hematoma, putting her fingers around it like she was going to twist off the lid on a jar. "This is not good news, it can make it difficult to find the lump during surgery. There is a procedure where a hook wire is inserted into the lump prior to surgery so we can locate the lump easily." Sure thing, who doesn't want more needles and a wire inserted. I recall a conversation with Ros, who is a nurse, who talked about people who have had a lumpectomy. She said sometimes the hospital where she worked in the USA got backed up so people would need to go home with the wire in as they couldn't have surgery the same day. They would get a 'cone of shame' over the wire so it wouldn't be bumped. Visions of the movie "Up" swam through my head with Dug saying "I was hiding under the porch because I love you" and "Kevin is a GIRL?".

I can get dressed again. Any questions? Yes, being low on funds and only having extras for my private health insurance (I couldn't afford combined cover on AuStudy) I wanted to know costs. "Nothing" Dr Inder states. "Nothing?" I query. "Medicare pays for everything, there is a fee for my appointment but Medicare also gives a rebate back for that too. Otherwise your surgery and treatments are paid by Medicare". Relief washes over me. I had heard from a friend who has been on her own breast cancer journey the past few years that mostly everything is paid for but it was nice to have it confirmed. It's a blessing to live in a country with a public health care system with such extensive support. I also ask if I can go back to work until my surgery. "Yes, that's not a problem".

Mum and I head over to Miranda Fair, well, Westfield Miranda is what it is now called but I still think of it as Miranda Fair. We get lunch, and I fill out the forms. Standard stuff. I come to the health questions. No medications, no diabetes, no cholesterol problems, no no no no no no....yes, I am vision impaired. I won't be able to wear my contacts for the operation so I will be legally blind. That will be an interesting experience. Without my contacts I see very blurry coloured shapes. Sort of like if you unfocus binoculars all the way, or if you are underwater and look up at what you can see. I can't wear glasses, they don't correct my vision. I have keratoconus, was diagnosed with the degenerative disease in my early 20's. Forms filled out, let's head to St George Hospital.

The drive over was uneventful, traffic was pretty heavy but still moving. St George Hospital is a bit of a rabbit warren, we need the admissions office off Kensington St. I find a carpark just around the corner. We walk over to the entrance and find the admissions office. The lady there says that the person who does admissions for Dr Inder is away and is back on Monday. She'll leave my paperwork on her desk. Ok, sure, how many other forms will be on her desk by Monday? I put a reminder in my phone to call her on Monday morning to make sure the paperwork isn't the bottom of a mountain of forms.

Well, that was one heck of a week. Mammogram, ultrasound, biopsy, two flights, cancer diagnosis, 7 hours of work, breast surgeon appointment, submit paperwork for a lumpectomy and possible auxiliary clearance of the lymph nodes.