and the biopsy.” He laid the file down. He leant forward and put his hand on mine. “Mrs McAllister, I’m sorry to have to tell you that the lump in your left breast does appear to be malignant.”
So much for bracing myself , it was still a shock. To hear that word –‘malignant’ – applied to me, to something in me, was devastating.
“Do you have anyone with you today?” He nodded towards the nurse. “Would you like Sister Webster to ask them to come in?” Mr Campbell looked me in the eye, his hand still on mine. He had such a kind face.
“No, there’s nobody with me. I came alone. I preferred it that way. My husband would have come if I’d asked him, or any of my friends, of course. But this is how I wanted it. I’ll tell people when I’m ready. My husband’s a doctor – a surgeon – I didn’t want him taking over.” I was babbling. I knew I was, but couldn’t help it. For some reason it mattered to me that Mr Campbell understood why I’d come alone.
“That’s all right. Everyone copes in different ways. A surgeon you say? McAllister - not Tom McAllister, heart man at the Royal?”
“Yes, Tom’s my husband. Do you know him?”
“We’ve met, but I know him by reputation mainly. He’s very highly thought of. But I take your point about us surgeons wanting to take charge. We make terrible patients and even worse partners of patients!” Mr Campbell laughed at this observation. I managed a weak smile. “Anyway, Mrs McAllister– I know it seems like very bad news, but try not to worry. I believe we’ve caught your cancer early and it will prove to be treatable. I’d like to get you in as soon as possible and take a good look at what we’re dealing with. I need to operate and I’ll only take as much of the tissue as is absolutely necessary. Then we’ll work out exactly what further treatment is needed. But you will definitely need a course of chemotherapy.”
He sat back in his chair and I realised he was waiting for me to respond. I was unable to speak. All I could take in were the words ‘your cancer’, ‘taking tissue’ and ‘chemotherapy’. They echoed round my head. I felt very strange. I actually thought I was going to laugh. This was all some hideous joke – Robbie, Tom, cancer…
“Mrs McAllister, take a wee sip if you can.” Sister Webster was holding a cup of water to my lips. Her arm was along my shoulders.
Mr Campbell was opening the window in the stuffy little room. I took a couple of sips.
“Better now?” Mr Campbell smiled his lovely smile again. “Sister Webster was quick off the mark. She saw you about to hit the deck and caught you. Good catch, Wendy, by the way!”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be! These rooms are far too hot and you’ve had a shock. It’s me who should apologise. I was going too fast for you. When you’re ready, come over to the examination couch. You’re still very pale and I’d like to check you over. But first you need to gather your thoughts. I’ll leave Wendy here with you for a few moments. She’ll answer any questions you might have and she’ll explain the support she’ll offer you throughout your treatment.” Mr Campbell offered his arm and helped me over to the couch. “Now try and relax and I’ll be right back.”
Wendy Webster was as calm and reassuring as Mr Campbell. She was about my age, tall and slim with short grey hair and a kind face. She went over everything that Mr Campbell had said and more.
“Don’t worry if you don’t take everything in now,” she said. “That’s perfectly normal. Here’s my card. You can phone or email me anytime with any questions you might have. If I’m not here when you get in touch, I promise I will get back to you as soon as I can.”
In a little while Mr Campbell returned. “You’ve got your colour back. Feeling better?” He took my wrist. “I’ll just check your pulse, Mrs McAllister.”
“Rosie, call me Rosie. Mrs McAllister makes me feel like
So much for bracing myself , it was still a shock. To hear that word –‘malignant’ – applied to me, to something in me, was devastating.
“Do you have anyone with you today?” He nodded towards the nurse. “Would you like Sister Webster to ask them to come in?” Mr Campbell looked me in the eye, his hand still on mine. He had such a kind face.
“No, there’s nobody with me. I came alone. I preferred it that way. My husband would have come if I’d asked him, or any of my friends, of course. But this is how I wanted it. I’ll tell people when I’m ready. My husband’s a doctor – a surgeon – I didn’t want him taking over.” I was babbling. I knew I was, but couldn’t help it. For some reason it mattered to me that Mr Campbell understood why I’d come alone.
“That’s all right. Everyone copes in different ways. A surgeon you say? McAllister - not Tom McAllister, heart man at the Royal?”
“Yes, Tom’s my husband. Do you know him?”
“We’ve met, but I know him by reputation mainly. He’s very highly thought of. But I take your point about us surgeons wanting to take charge. We make terrible patients and even worse partners of patients!” Mr Campbell laughed at this observation. I managed a weak smile. “Anyway, Mrs McAllister– I know it seems like very bad news, but try not to worry. I believe we’ve caught your cancer early and it will prove to be treatable. I’d like to get you in as soon as possible and take a good look at what we’re dealing with. I need to operate and I’ll only take as much of the tissue as is absolutely necessary. Then we’ll work out exactly what further treatment is needed. But you will definitely need a course of chemotherapy.”
He sat back in his chair and I realised he was waiting for me to respond. I was unable to speak. All I could take in were the words ‘your cancer’, ‘taking tissue’ and ‘chemotherapy’. They echoed round my head. I felt very strange. I actually thought I was going to laugh. This was all some hideous joke – Robbie, Tom, cancer…
“Mrs McAllister, take a wee sip if you can.” Sister Webster was holding a cup of water to my lips. Her arm was along my shoulders.
Mr Campbell was opening the window in the stuffy little room. I took a couple of sips.
“Better now?” Mr Campbell smiled his lovely smile again. “Sister Webster was quick off the mark. She saw you about to hit the deck and caught you. Good catch, Wendy, by the way!”
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t be! These rooms are far too hot and you’ve had a shock. It’s me who should apologise. I was going too fast for you. When you’re ready, come over to the examination couch. You’re still very pale and I’d like to check you over. But first you need to gather your thoughts. I’ll leave Wendy here with you for a few moments. She’ll answer any questions you might have and she’ll explain the support she’ll offer you throughout your treatment.” Mr Campbell offered his arm and helped me over to the couch. “Now try and relax and I’ll be right back.”
Wendy Webster was as calm and reassuring as Mr Campbell. She was about my age, tall and slim with short grey hair and a kind face. She went over everything that Mr Campbell had said and more.
“Don’t worry if you don’t take everything in now,” she said. “That’s perfectly normal. Here’s my card. You can phone or email me anytime with any questions you might have. If I’m not here when you get in touch, I promise I will get back to you as soon as I can.”
In a little while Mr Campbell returned. “You’ve got your colour back. Feeling better?” He took my wrist. “I’ll just check your pulse, Mrs McAllister.”
“Rosie, call me Rosie. Mrs McAllister makes me feel like
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