A few weeks ago I was at the Royal Berkshire Hospital having my left boob examined (my original post 'Finding a lump' can be found here). The doctor took a sample of the lump and we sat and chatted for five minutes about my family history and medical records.
She was convinced it wasn't suspicious and that it was a fibroadenoma - or a 'mouse boob' as she called it which obviously made me laugh. 'They're like mice, you see. Small and round and when you touch them, they move!'
God bless the NHS.
I opened the post this morning to read a letter from the doctor confirming this. My lump was nothing more than a benign growth of tissue. A harmless wriggly mouse boob. Relief.
Despite the all clear I have two follow-up appointments booked in December and January, a mammogram before Christmas to determine the size and subsequent treatment - which I believe will either be to leave it, or have it removed if its bothering me. And in the New Year on January 10th I'll be meeting with my doctor again to discuss testing for the BRCA gene.
BRCA1 and BRCA2 are human genes that produce tumor suppressor proteins, and these proteins help repair damaged DNA. They play a significant role in ensuring the stability of each cell's genetic material. When either of these genes is mutated, or altered, such that its protein product is not made or does not function correctly, DNA damage may not be repaired properly. As a result, cells are more likely to develop additional genetic alterations that can lead to cancer.*
There's no denying it, this test scares the shit out of me. And here's why. About 12% of women in the general population will develop breast cancer sometime during their lives. By contrast, its estimated that 72% of women who inherit a harmful BRCA1 mutation and about 69% of women who inherit a harmful BRCA2 mutation will develop breast cancer by the age of 80.* Plus your odds of developing breast cancer in both boobs are significantly increased. It's bad news basically.
Luckily I don't have breast cancer on my mum's side of the family, but my dad's mother and sister both died of breast cancer in their 40s - so the doctor thinks I may have a stronger case for genetic testing given the severity of the disease. We're going to talk through the options in the new year and will go from there.
During my chat with the doctor we covered my medical stats, lifestyle and smoking and drinking habits. Circling 'zero' as my answer to both earned me a big thumbs up. This is the first time I've been congratulated by a doctor, ever. What a feeling!
We also touched upon the benign lump I had removed from my right breast when I was 18-years-old. Its discovery completely freaked me (and my entire family) out. It's clear to see my dad is quietly traumatised from his mother and sister passing so we opted for surgery to just get rid of it.
I'm not sure what I'll do about the new lump, but the more I read about the negative effects drinking has on the body the more I wish I'd given up sooner. Apparently women who drink heavily in their teens are more likely to develop benign cists and lumps later in life - and given my previous and recent discoveries my breast irregularities could well be the result of early alcohol abuse.
It's crazy how little I knew, and wanted to know, about the damaging effects of drink. And how little my parents did to make me aware of the dangers. I guess this is because they loved it too and never considered their lives without it.
Between my parents my dad was the big drinker. My brother and I used to call him the man with the iron stomach as his nightly drinks tally (of roughly four triple gin and tonics) would never lead to a hangover. In my 31-years on the planet I have never seen my dad hungover, and fair play to the bloke he'd always make it out of bed at 5.30 a.m. every morning and head to work without a complaint or grumble. He loved to party though and his wild flippant ways ultimately became the catalyst for my parent's divorce.
Dad's drinking increased two-fold when the separation landed (when I was 20 and in my second year of uni - which sucked and was completely distracting), and he continued to drink every night until roughly two years ago. My dad doesn't say much, but reading between the lines the doctor told him he was essentially going to die if he didn't slow down. And that he had Type 2 diabetes from years of alcohol abuse buggering his blood sugar.
He doesn't drink mid-week now but he still puts away a fair few at the weekend.
I rambling a bit, I know, but I guess my recent scare has put a lot in perspective. Rob and I are yet to have children and we've decided to start trying next summer, and I absolutely want to be as fit and healthy as I can be before heading into pregnancy. Fingers crossed we can have the little rascals, you just don't know until you start trying.
But despite my recent lump discovery causing panic and worry I'm glad it happened. It's only cemented my want to lead as healthy a life as possible and I'm determined to start addressing my wellbeing as a whole, not just my relationship with alcohol.
I've got a long way to go but I feel open and ready for it now. Five months alcohol-free on Saturday, 8th December. Bring it on!
*Source: Cancer.gov.
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