I'm too young to be worrying about Cancer, right?!

It was in June that I first noticed. I asked Shawn “Is it just me, or does my right boob look even bigger than normal?” My right boob has always been noticeably bigger than my left. This is of course standard however I have small boobs so it’s more prominent visually. But on this day, it seemed strange and when I looked down, it was sticking out further. Shawn said it was probably because I was standing with my one shoulder higher than the other. Bad posture has always plagued me.
We went to Scotland a few days later with my family for my cousin’s wedding.

(pic is my Dad and I at Crathes Castle where the wedding was held)

In the bedroom of my aunt’s house, on our first night there, I felt a mass in my right breast. It didn’t feel like a lump, it felt like a big hard mass. I made Shawn feel it and he could feel what I was talking about, however he thought it was more likely an aggravated muscle than anything I had to worry about. That made sense to me also. Small anxiety at this point, but nothing I was overtly stressing about. The very next night, while taking off my bra, I noticed a fresh stain in my bra. I say fresh because I had also noticed this before now. I remember the week or two before when I saw a small stain in my bra, and felt a sticky substance on my breast. Now, I’m a clumsy and sometimes messy person by nature. Having a stain on my skin, on my clothes or in my hair has never been something to bat an eye at. I just thought, “When did I eat syrup? Huh.” And didn’t give it another thought. But here we are, the week after thinking my boob had grown, a day after feeling a hardening in my breast, and now a fresh stain in my pink bra. I left the room as Shawn was getting into bed and went to the bathroom to do some investigating. I squeezed my boob and out of my nipple dripped a liquid that I can only describe as the same colour as chewing tobacco spit. I am now freaked.
Seeing as it was 1:30am, we had been out drinking and Shawn was going to bed, I didn’t know what to do. Crawling in beside him and forgetting about it wasn’t gonna happen, so I went down to talk with my brother about it. Unfortunately my dad was also awake and I certainly didn’t want to let him in on my newfound crisis, so Craig and I went out for a smoke and I told him. He said he remembered something about a 24 hour nurses hotline in Aberdeen (the part of Scotland we were in), and that I should call. As fate would have it, not only was the internet down, but there was nary a phonebook to be found. They don’t have 911, 411 or 0 for operator so how was I gonna figure this out? What choice did that leave me? My dad who was watching TV in the living room. Being indigenous to the land, I figured he’d know the number I needed to get the number I needed. He didn’t and I still had to tell him what was going on which sucked. I certainly couldn’t call anyone at that time in the morning to ask for such a number so we all continued to take turns pressing random buttons and wiggling various cables to try and get the bloody internet working, Craig as brilliant as he is pointed out that it would only be (at this point) 9:30pm in Canada so he’d call his friend Mike to look up the number. I love you Craig! Of course Mike was working and couldn’t get to a computer so I called my girlfriend Julie, who did find the number I needed to get the number I needed.
They listened to what I was saying and were very understanding and patient and decided that they felt it was serious enough to warrant a Doctor calling me back. She also said that the fact it was leaking “was a good thing” and to try not to stress, which did comfort me at the time.
About 40 minutes later, the Doctor called. She said that it sounded like an infection, but if I went into the hospital she could check it out. Because I was a non-resident, I couldn’t go to a practitioner, it had to be the hospital, and since it was so late they weren’t busy and it would be the best time to come in. I agreed as I wasn’t gonna be sleeping with this on my mind. Shawn and Craig both came with me and I got right in to see the Doctor I had spoken with on the phone. She examined me and said she suspected it was an infection, prescribed me 2 antibiotics that I’d take over the next 7 days, and she gave me a note to take to my doctor once I got home. In and out in 25 minutes (and £80 lighter), I was able to go on with my vacation without this plaguing me.

I dutifully scheduled the doctor's appointment with my “female doctor”. That may sound weird, but I have my regular doctor that I go to for most things, but then I have my woman doctor for woman issues; I’m old school like that. She gave me a breast exam and I remember her face as I was lying down looking up at her, right arm over my head. She gave me what I would describe as a quizzical, a kinda “just what is that?” look. I was reassured that I most likely had nothing serious to worry about, it obviously didn’t need to be said that it wasn’t cancer as 29 year olds just don’t get that. She’d only had one other patient in her years and years of practicing medicine that had ever been my age with cancer, but rest assured she’d keep going with this until we figured out what the hell it was. I love my doctor, she’s exactly the way you want your doctor to be; make a big deal of everything. Nevertheless, I left that appointment a little jarred. I now had my mammogram and ultrasound paper in hand and headed up the stairs to that office to get an appointment scheduled.