When I first found Big Lump, it wasn’t supposed to be cancer. I’m too young to get cancer. Unfortunately, it was.

Then, we had the Sentinal Node Biopsy, to establish whether it had spread. Everything indicated to it being contained. It hadn’t, it had spread.

Next up, the genetic test. Was I just a one off freak, or a genetic freak who could pass this horrible disease to my children, and also have implications for my close family. Sadly, the latter is true.

I have a mutation in the CHEK2. It’s not even the normal breast cancer gene that everyone is talking about at the minute with the Carol Jackson story in Eastenders, BRCA 1/2. (I’m not watching it though, I can’t deal with someone else’s fictional drama at the minute).

This gene mutation is classed as medium risk. The BRCA gene is classed as high risk, so I can be thankful for some things. It’s been shown to increase the risk of breast cancer, as well as colon cancer and prostate cancer in men. The reason I was checked for this gene, is that it was done privately on Ross’s works health insurance. The nhs would only have checked for the BRCA one, and even then they may not have agreed to carry out the test.

Anyway, I had the test, it’s thrown up an issue, now to deal with it. In the short term, this may be the difference between a single or double mastectomy. My Oncologist says that given the results, it’s not a case if they remove the other side, but when. I need to see my surgeon this week before we go on holiday and see if he’ll agree to do it all together. We then need to see if the insurance company will agree to it.

In the longer term, its going to mean things get shaken up a bit. It’s going to be time to grab life by the balls and live it. No more stagnating. No more treading water. And the first thing I’m going to do once I’m able to, is start singing again. Join a choir and gain back some confidence I lost a long time ago.

Cancer, I’m not going to fight you, I’m not a warrior, I’m just little me. But I’m going to have every treatment they offer me so I can get rid of you, so I can have my life back. A life with my husband and bairns that you think I don’t deserve. Back off. I’m prepared to sacrifice all sorts here, starting with, but not limited to my hair and both boobs. Don’t think you’ve won because I’ve said I won’t fight, you haven’t, the outcome will be the same for you. I suppose it’s just semantics.