Reality was exactly as Dr D had told me the morning after my second operation, however Paul was yet to hear it for himself. There was a total of four ‘spots’ of DCIS. It was ‘multi-focal’.

My immediate question to Dr D was “How can we be sure there’s no more?” “There’s no guarantee” was his simple response.

I’d had time to think about plenty of other questions as well, including;

Chance of recurrence?
Radiotherapy V Mastectomy?
Chance of survival?
Impact on fertility?
What about my left breast?

While I treated this as any other interview (albeit a whole lot more personal), I could see Paul grappling with the magnitude of the situation. Before my eyes he was melting into information overload. At the core of it was this – my breasts appeared to be perfectly healthy why would I consider chopping one/both of them off? Fact of the matter was – at least one of them was diseased. I had no real attachment anymore. My gut feel was it had to go, and if subjecting my body to the more radical option of surgery in order to rid myself of cancer and protect from it in the future – Dr D may as well take both.

Dr D gave me time, said another week wasn’t going to alter the outcome. That period of grace gave me time to try and sift through all the pros & cons – but ultimately, the decision was mine.

I set about speaking to all Doctors involved in my health care, including the Gynaecologist looking after the baby-making efforts. Her words were harsh but very clear “Cancer can kill, and there can’t be a baby if you’re not here.” Point taken.

My family GP was initially strongly against the surgical option saying the radiotherapy offered now can knock out the nasty cells. The footnote was “for now”. I’m sorry, but a band-aid solution was not enough.

I really felt that the radiotherapy was only a ‘short-term’ fix and there was the possibility I may have to face this again at some point in my future. Even so – I went to see a Radiation Oncologist. He explained that if the cancer returned it wouldn’t be possible to use radiation on the same area again, so mastectomy is therefore the only option. He is highly respected, but did little to change my mind. In fact he told me that the radical surgery was “a bit like taking a sledge-hammer to hit a nail.” Well, excuse me! If there’s a sledge-hammer available to smash this so there’s next to no chance it will get me again, then I’m going to grab it with both hands.

This phrase helped seal the deal. I’m 31. I would like to get to his age thank you very much. If surgery can give me the better odds, then I’ll do it.