An ideal scenario would go something like this… “Okay Miss/Mrs XXX your results are in and your breast has a benign cyst/tumour/fibroid/mastiis”. You’d have any treatment necessary and be free to go back to your lovely life. Not unscathed by the experience, but not devastated by it either – a close shave you might say.

For the select few, the possibility of looking like you’ve had a close, full-body, shave is just where life is about to take you.  You probably won’t remember hearing the rest of the conversation but you’ll sure as hell remember hearing the words…

“You have cancer”.

When the C bomb drops there’s a moment of eerie silence.  As you take in the surroundings, you stare blankly at your doctor/specialist’s sympathetic face while trying not to see the disbelief and pain register in your support person’s face (if you are indeed lucky enough to have one there). You will never more be the embodiment of ‘being beside yourself’ than as you sit in suspended animation trying to make sense of it all.

Here’s where your personal journey really begins – some shout, some cry, some scream, some continue on as normal.  However you respond, you need to hang on tight because you’re about to enter the biggest, scariest and most nauseating roller coaster ride of your life.  Oh, and grab yourself a dictionary cause you’ve got a whole new language to learn on the way!