(3) More Fast and More Furious

I was given an appointment with an oncologist for the 27th of February, and luckily my mum was able to join my partner and I for this meeting as well.

This man could tell me a lot more. He told me that I have a rare and aggressive form of breast cancer, known as 'Metaplastic'. It is triple negative in hormone receptors, which means it has tested negative for the hormones estrogen and progesterone, and a protein called HER2. One of my results came back with a slight positive, which is apparently reasonably unusual, but still not enough to call it a full positive. So triple negative is what we have to go with.

Metaplastic breast cancer is made up of different cells, which makes it different from other breast cancers. It accounts for around 1% of all breast cancers, and the chance of someone my age getting this is well under 1%.

The doctor is very calm and knowledgeable, and I'm so pleased to find out he has treated this type of cancer before, as it is not very common in New Zealand.

He goes over treatment options with me, and we talked about chemotherapy and surgery. At this stage, I want to get started right then and there. My veins are atrocious so he decides a port is a good idea for chemo. This means surgery which is slightly terrifying to me. A port (or port-a-cath) is a little circular device placed under my skin in my chest cavity. It is then attached to a catheter that goes into a large vein (in my neck). Having a port means easy administration of drugs, and can also be used to take blood.

I left the hospital feeling very overwhelmed, but confident with my oncologist and what his plan is. My partner and I dropped my mum at the airport, and head home to think about all the new information that has been overloaded into our heads.

The next morning I'm on a course at work, when I get a call asking if I can come in to see the fertility team that afternoon. This is something I have been advised to do before any treatment is given, so I was thrilled they could see me so soon. Then I received another phone call at lunch time. This time from the hospital, asking me if I can have port surgery the next morning and if I could please come in to see my oncologist that afternoon. And suddenly everything got so real. I packed up at work, and started on my afternoon of appointments.

I met my partner at the fertility clinic. A surprise internal scan was unexpected but by this stage feeling uncomfortable about these things isn't really an option. The nice fertility man explained our 'best' options. His preferred option for us is embryo freezing. Second best is freezing my eggs. I'm not keen on delaying treatment any longer than I need to. And have a huge internal crisis about being selfish. My partner is the best. He tells me he will fully support any decision I make about my eggs or our embryos If I want that option, and if I don't want to do this than that is ok too. So I cry a little bit because people being nice makes me cry too. Then I'm told I have to decide by the next day, due to the timeframes they need. Super.

My partner headed back to work and I get in the car to go and meet with the oncologist. And call my mum and have a slight meltdown. Throughout this journey so far, so many people have asked about freezing my eggs. Which I think is sometimes a hard topic. Being given the lifeline to freeze eggs or embryos is incredible. And I'm thankful I was given the option. But for me those were not the options that worked. I was (/am) terrified of cancer. The treatment. Surgery. Everything. I was insanely overwhelmed and wasn't willing to put my body through another procedure that for me is so scary. I was so worried everyone would think I was being selfish.

My oncologist offered me another option called Zoladex. This is a monthly injection (or a giant harpoon), that freezes my ovaries, giving them the best chance one chemo is over. It is used as a cancer treatment for men and woman, and can give you symptoms similar to menopause. My chances of having children after chemo is around 80% anyways, but this will hopefully just help my ovaries recover. So I said yes to the zoladex and got ready for my surgery preparation for the next day.

I had to be at hospital super early the next day for the port, so got my partner to bring me in. He waited with me until a friend arrived, as I had told him he was not missing out on a golf trip just to watch me be woozy under anaesthetic for half a day. I was also booked in for a heart scan and a plastic surgery appointment after the port surgery, so I was very thankful to have my friend around to help out.

I was taken in to a room to get changed into some lovely robes and booties, and then put into an armchair with a blanket being pumped with hot air. The surgeon and anaesthetist both come to see me, and I was so useless at being brave so just cried. When I had surgery years ago, my body 'fell asleep' before my brain, and turns out this has traumatised me slightly. Thankfully the anaesthetist is so lovely and reassured me 100% this will not be the case. My wonderful nurse took me down the hall into surgery and held my hand the whole time.

When I woke up, I was so out of it. I had hardly read up on the procedure so didn't really know what to expect. Not a giant alien lump protruding from the middle of my chest and not an incision in my neck! My friend was even more shocked! They gave me some tramadol and my body did not like that, but had no time to rest before I was wheeled into my heart scans. They injected dye into my body and monitored my heart for what felt like forever. I just wanted to sleep. Then I got too sleepy and my heart rate dropped too low, so we had to start all over again. My lovely friend had to head home, but because she is incredible she cancelled my plastic surgeon meeting so I could actually rest. I was so thankful. I had another wonderful friend come to visit me in recovery, which was such a welcome distraction to everything else going on. I am so thankful for my friends.

My partners wonderful mum arrived to keep me company for the afternoon, and took me home to recover. Unfortunately I do not respond to anaesthetic so well, so spent the rest of the night and the next morning with my head in the loo. My amazing partner bought me ice blocks, I think they are best invention ever.