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.

Put simply – it can be a life saver.

For well over 12 months I’d been back and forward to the GP – complaining of being tired. Not just the usual ‘had a full-on week at work, I’m zonked’ kind of exhaustion, but real fatigue.

Blood tests (plenty of them) returned nothing significant.

This may, or may not be related – the jury is still out. My gut feel, was that something wasn’t right.

In January – I noticed a lump in my left breast. Two Doctors later, I had a referral for an ultrasound. During examination the sonographer picked up a larger ‘mass’ in my right breast. My response was “it’s the wrong boob!” And – the lump I had felt (in my left breast) wasn’t showing up on the imaging, despite the fact the sonographer could feel it. He called in a Doctor and the Senior Radiologist. They could all feel it – but not find it with the machine.

Both GP’s I’d been to previously dismissed the ‘masses’ as nothing serious. “You’re only 31” they said. My point exactly. One refused point blank to send me for an FNA (Fine Needle Aspiration/biopsy) commenting “it’s just the imaging company trying to get the money for an unnecessary test.” I wanted it done, so went back to my family GP. It was done on the ‘big lump’ and came back as atypia – where cells are starting to become ‘abnormal’. A Mammogram and Core Biopsy followed. Although I wanted both lumps removed immediately, I was assured there was nothing to worry about. Another line I got was “the lumps don’t warrant the scarring.” Scarring! I hardly walk around with my boobs out! I resorted to begging, if for nothing more than peace of mind. No luck.

After vigorous discussion/debate with my husband Paul and others close to me, I stopped protesting at the lack of action on the boob front and agreed that yes ‘they’re the experts’ and surely if it was necessary, they’d recommend the lumps be removed. Still – that feeling in the pit of my stomach would not go away.

We’ve been trying to have a baby for years and had recently started another round of IVF treatment. I got two days into a cycle and called the IVF people to initiate the next phase. They knew of the lumps and asked if they’d been removed. When I said “no, no-one is overly concerned” I was met with a caring, but firm “there’ll be no IVF cycle Kate.” I was told the drug treatment involved could ‘feed’ any potential cancer.

That was it. I ended up in my Gynaecologist’s rooms for a breast examination. I told him I wanted the lumps out, no big deal “just get rid of them.” After telling me “there’s been a huge increase in the number of younger women undergoing unnecessary invasive procedures since the cases of Kylie Minogue and Jane McGrath” he decided to give in to my demand for a referral and sent me to his ‘mate’, who just happens to be one of the most highly-respected breast specialists in the region.

Dr D and his staff had done their homework on me before my initial consultation – films, pathology results etc.. I had an incredible sense of calm on entering their rooms and just knew I was in good hands. This was immediately obvious when he found that mysterious lump everyone could feel and no-one could actually find. On seeing that lump displayed on the screen I didn’t know whether to cry or scream. All I could say was “thank you.” He did a fine needle biopsy then and there. We agreed that should it come back as something even slightly suspicious, he’d get rid of it during the surgery to remove the bigger lump. The operation was booked for around a week later.