Storm in a B Cup - A Breast Cancer Tale by Lindy Dale Read Free Book Online Page A

purchases into the Mercedes.

 
 
 
 
    Chapter 6

 
    So, it’s
real. I officially have Breast Cancer — an Invasive Ductal Carcinoma to
be exact. Which is fine. I can cope with that. I can organise hospital stays
and trips to surgeons and babysitters. I can ring around the suppliers and
instruct them that under no circumstances are they to sell anything to Lani
while I’m gone. But what about everyone else? How will they cope with this news?
I hope they don’t fall to pieces. I’ve no idea how I’ll cope if there’s crying.
    I don’t need
to worry about Brendan, of course. He’s managing quite well since the delivery
van arrived. He has so many new gadgets to program and learn how to run, he doesn’t
have time to be upset. And it’s nice to see him occupied. When he’s not, he’s
giving me a new kind of look. I haven’t fathomed what it means yet, and I
daren’t ask, but at least I know he’s getting along okay. Well, he will be
after he figures out how to surf the net from the new TV.
      But what about Rory? What about Mum? And
Dad? I have to break this news to the rest of my family. I toss ideas about in
my head for ages, pacing the length of the family room. Back and forth, back
and forth. I pace for so long, I think I’ve actually worn a groove in the
floorboards. And the only thing I come up with, apart from moving to another
country and ignoring it, is to bite the bullet. I’m just going to have to tell
them straight up. They have to know. But I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t
want to cause them pain.
    First up is
Mum.
    “Hi Mum.”
    “Hello sweetheart.
To what do I owe this pleasure?”
    She’s
obviously forgotten she asked me to ring. “I’m calling to let you know. I, um, I
got the results. It’s cancer.”
    “Oh, Sophie.
Are you sure?”
    “Yep. Invasive
Ductal Carcinoma. Early stage. I’m booked in to see the breast surgeon next
week. I’ll know more then.”
    “Will you be
okay till then? You don’t want me to come and stay with you?”
    The only
thing worse than having cancer would be my mother coming to stay for an
indefinite period. The last time she did, we came to blows over the pearl
encrusted g-string and bra she’d left to dry on the shower rail after hand-washing
them in the basin. The same basin I clean my teeth in.
    “I’ll be
fine, Mum. Honestly. And what can you do? It’s only a doctor’s appointment.
Brendan will come with me.”
    Mum gives a
sort of a snort. She doesn’t like Brendan that much.
    “Make sure
you ring me as soon as you know what’s happening, then. What time’s the
appointment?”
    “It’s at
eleven. Look, I have to go. I have to pick Rory up.”
    “We’ll speak
next week then. Love you.”
    “You too,
Mum. Bye.”
    I hang up. A
wave of something like relief rushes through me. Maybe it’s because I’ve
admitted I have cancer. Then again, I could simply be happy to have averted a
visit from my mother.
    *****

 
    By
three-thirty, I’m standing at the gate with the other mothers waiting for our
children. Rory’s school is in a good area and the mothers are always dressed
like they’re off to a fashion parade, even if they’re in gym gear. Apart from
Angela, Melinda and I, none of them have ever worked, that I know of. The only
occupation they have is gossiping. Or fundraising for little African children
who need limbs.
    As the
mothers chatter on, I look up into the canopy of the huge oak tree above
us.   I’m feeling okay about the
whole cancer thing now. It’s not like there’s anything I could have done, is
there? I mean, I didn’t give myself cancer. Did I?
    I zone out
for a bit wondering if it was something I did that caused this to happen. I
know I don’t exercise enough but surely that didn’t give it to me? And I know I
like a glass of wine but if the doctor says it’s the root of my problem, I’ll
give it up. I eat reasonably well. Apart from my chocolate addiction. I have
friends and a family. My city is