Now for the science bit...

As I have mentioned before, I have felt a little like a fraud; got the diagnosis, but no sign of treatment on the near horizon.

I decided to give the breast nurse a ring yesterday and see if they had forgotten all about me.

I think my dealings with the healthcare professionals over the last few weeks have been rather fast and furious. I think I spent 12 minutes with Scouse the day he told me Colin and Malcom were real and alive...less with the consultant oncologist (hereby known as House).

I suppose, without really trying, I have picked up a lot of information. I am a reasonably intelligent person and I have always picked up medical stuff quickly (this is due to a former professional life where I flirted with pharmas, as well as working with consultants in many fields). A little inofrmation is a dangerous thing...I realised that I haven't been told a few things...

First off, I have attained the status of Grade 2 Ductal Invasive Breast Cancer person. This means my tumour is small (less than 50mm..mine is 15mm) and I have lymph involvement. It also means that those naughty little unionised cancer cells contained within Colin can get pretty mobile and bring other cells in other areas to the party. So far Malcom has signed up, although I do not know, as yet, how many. My ultrasound only showed one enlarged and dodgy cell...they might want to cut the whole Malcom collective out, or just a few.

No news is good news. Colin et al have not got very far. My ultrasound, lung and bone staging investigations have all proven negative...or so the breast care nurse says...she wasn't allowed to tell me over the 'phone, but said 'they would have contacted you by now if there was a problem'. Well, the tests were 8 days ago...the pathology and reports are in and no one has contacted me. I take this as I am a-ok. Would have been nice for them to let me know...whatever.

I am ER+ / PR+.

This is where it gets a little more complicated...breast cancer cells can be swayed by the attentions of estrogen (they use the Yank spelling), which all women produce in their ovaries. Approximately 80% of all breast cancer is caused by these little estrogen party-goers. Mine too...I am pretty normal, in a cancerous kind of way. I am a perfect A+ in my estrogen marker test as I scored 8/8 ....daddy would be proud.

I also scored 6/8 for progesterone receptors, making me PR+. Well, that is definately a B+.

The upside of all of this is ER+/PR+ women are much less likely to croak. There are lots of clinical research papers on all of this. I can use special drugs to knock out the estrogen in my body post-treatment. Not sure if I like the idea of swallowing hormone treatment therapy pills until 2015+, but there you go. Life sucks sometimes.

I have also been given a start date for my first Domestos infusion. 7th April. That's a Wednesday and I will be infused every 3rd Wednesday after this...for 8 cycles. That's 24 weeks. There goes my summer...

No one told me this last week. I asked for a date and they said 'we'll call you'. They didn't. If I hadn't rung I wouldn't have turned up. You'd think they'd let you know...I am going to have to keep tabs on this. No one ever said the NHS was perfect....

House also told me that I am getting a chemo drug called Docetaxel. This is, apparently, the 'gold standard' of Domestos. Not everyone gets it and I am a lucky little lady. I imagine they have singled me out for this due to my age...the treatment book gets thrown at me and I might still have a few tax-paying years left in me yet. Mind you, it might give me more in common with our Kylie. I bet she got Gold Standard drugs too...

How do I feel? Funnily enough, a bit down in the dumps about it all today. I am bored of it a little, or perhaps the reality has hit home. There is no fear or anxiety...just that 'oh come on then, get on with it and make me look and feel like shit already people'. I am tired too...busy with real life.

Reality. I imagine that is it. I have facts and details. I have a date. I can see 2010 stretched out ahead of me and it contains needles, puke, fatigue and an Orla Keily bag.

I have made an appointment with Ollie the Hair. He is giving me a Natalie Portman buzz cut next week. My middle finger is still firmly up to it all...I need to pace myself though...if I am tired of it all now, imagine a whole year of this.

There is only one thing for it: a raw broccoli shake from my 'Nutrition for Chemotherapy Book'. That'll do it...