Smaller, smaller, smaller...

Today I dragged my ass over the RB for the first of my appointments with the ultrasound machine. If you remember, I am doing the chemo gig first so that Colin gets a blast of minimising chemicals in the hope of escaping a full mastectomy, seeing as the little shit has decided to anchor himself so close to my nipple. The FEC-T chemo system can, in some cases, shrink the Colin-type of tumour up to 50%. If this happens, I might get away with a much neater (and less traumatic and painful) lumpectomy. It's a gamble and there are no guarantees...

Unfortunately, I saw a different consultant radiographer...so she had to try and mark Colin in a similar way to the previous one with the machine to try and get a handle on size. When you are talking an irregular-sized 147mm of cancerous tumour, it isn't an easy job. There was a lot of bleeping. It is a rather surreal experience to be honest...darkened room, bleeping machines and your tits out whilst a stranger squirts clear gel over them.

Anyway, she did her best and said 'I am pretty certain the tumour is smaller, which is pretty good seeing as you have only had two cycles. By cycle 6 I reckon we will see significant shrinkage'. She also said there was still only one slightly enlarged lymph node...so it hasn't spread to any others.

Result. I decided I would be happy if Colin hadn't got any bigger at this stage. So the feeling of being kicked in the tit this last 6 weeks is indeed the chemo working its special chemical magic.

It's a good feeling (shrinking Colin, not being kicked in the tit). If this continues, it makes all the drugs, chemicals and pills worth it...

"One pill makes you larger. And one pills makes you small..." Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit.