CA153 Breast Cancer Tumour Marker Blood Test, Clinic Visit – £99

Laura Mazzeo’s Narrative

Twelve years have passed since the moment I entered the frigid operating room of a Roman hospital. I was in a state of extreme fear, trembling and weeping. I recall only that a nurse held my hand while administering anesthesia to me. He advised me to remain resolute and that everything would be alright. I awoke in my bedroom, and in front of my bed were my spouse, my daughter, and the doctor who performed the surgery on me (to whom I will always be grateful). They made statements; however, I was primarily interested in the sensation that “the guest” had vanished entirely.

I was still unaware of the surprises that lay ahead.

I recall New Year’s Eve; from my bedroom window, I observed the pyrotechnics in the sky of Rome. I reflected on my husband and daughter, who were in a hotel room, and my son and grandfather, who were at home. Isolated. An unforgettable New Year’s Eve… in every respect.

I was eager to return home, but after a few days, they permitted me to enter a room and informed me that the “host” had been removed. However, it was a bit aggressive, so it was advisable to undergo chemotherapy and radiotherapy.

Okay, that is satisfactory

The initial session commences with a brief intervention to insert the Pic, and subsequent sessions are conducted in Rome every 21 days. A nightmare. The post-chemo agony is one of the most intense I have ever experienced, as well as the moon face and hair loss.

Afterward, we commence with the radio. A piece is charged to me every day at 1:05 p.m., and I would prefer to be somewhere else at that time.

Subsequently, I acknowledge that it was the most detrimental year of my existence.

However, I have since departed.

I am a survivor, and today, after twelve years, I am obligated to express my gratitude to those who enabled this to occur.

Initially, my professor “compelled” me to undergo the biopsy, and subsequently, my physician performed the surgery on New Year’s Eve and saved my life (he is now a highly respected professor worldwide). I was never left unattended by my family. Never. My spouse, my daughter, my son, and my father-in-law.

The five of us performed exceptionally well.

Team. A potent force. Strength is my forte.

My closest friend (who is aware that I am discussing her) compelled me to consume food when I was unable to resist, to leave even when I was unable to stand, and to trim her stunning curls so that I would not experience isolation.

This is where… I am present to inform anyone who is experiencing a comparable period that “the guest” can be removed; it necessitates courage, tenacity, fortitude, and luck. However, it is feasible.

I am writing this to increase awareness among women about the importance of prevention, regular check-ups, and trusting their inherent sixth sense. We are aware of our bodies; if we detect an anomaly that is not present, we investigate it, as the “guest” is intelligent, but we are more knowledgeable.

Christina

I was diagnosed with breast cancer on March 23, 2021. I have experienced a complete transformation in my life since that time; the world has assumed a new significance, and the certainty that I once held has begun to disintegrate like a sandcastle. Fear has replaced the lightheartedness that has always defined me, and concerns have begun to emerge.

The news of cancer’s arrival is never anticipated; it defies categorization and erupts into your life like a tornado, destroying everything in its path.

I, a young woman of 29 years, was struck by the creature.

In the days that followed, I ascended to sleep with the expectation of awakening from a hallucination. Regrettably, the cancer was a reality, and the lump that was proliferating within my breast served as a reminder.

Since that time, I have consistently endeavored to determine the answer to the query, “Why me?”

I was convinced that I had done something wrong in life to merit cancer, and in the months that followed, I blamed myself. One day, a doctor informed me, “Cristina, the Lord only entrusts evil to those who are strong, to those who know how to confront it!”

Since that time, I have maintained my attachment to that phrase.

I commenced the struggle against the agony of the body and the mind, which are the most challenging to overcome due to their influence on every thought, every choice, and every gesture, even the most inane.

I believed that I was capable of managing any situation. I am obligated to engage in combat. With this in mind, I endured the protracted and boundless months of neoadjuvant chemotherapy and the subsequent bilateral mastectomy surgery.

I then began to persuade myself that the disease could not bring me to my knees, could not impede my daily pleasures, habits, or decisions.

I have consistently endeavored to maintain a positive outlook on life, despite the excruciating pain of chemotherapy, the anguish of beholding myself in the mirror without my long, black hair, and the unstoppable transformation of my body that cancer had administered. Nevertheless, the support of my closest friends and family, who fought alongside me day and night, would not have been feasible without their assistance.

Individuals engage in physical altercations with me

It enabled me to comprehend the significance of the individuals in my life, the concept of love and reciprocal love, and the prospect of establishing a future with them in the aftermath of the disease. It underscored the boundless love of a mother, father, brother, and aunt. It also introduces you to a world of physicians and nurses who are dedicated to fighting this terrible disease alongside you.

Angels are not exclusively located in paradise; they are present in our surroundings, and I was fortunate to encounter them. I am alluding to the physicians who administered my treatment. I would not have been able to surmount the evil that was attacking me without their assistance; they rescued me and provided me with unimaginable care.

I experienced a sense of security, compassion, and, most importantly, comprehension, which is the most critical aspect of enduring severe oncological treatments. The women and men who endured the notorious chemotherapy with me on Thursdays were of particular significance in this obstacle course. I recall the fortitude and courage we shared in order to prevail in our conflict, as well as their eyes, expressions, and words.

Assisting those who are experiencing hardship

The breast cancer room undergoes a complete transformation, and it is as though you are inhabiting a parallel universe that is incomprehensible to those who are anticipating your arrival.

The suffocating odor of disinfectant and chemotherapy drugs, the red color of chemotherapy, the sound of the therapy machine, and the peculiar sensation of fear mixed with a desire for life that enveloped me every time I lay down in the armchair are now a part of me and will always be.

My existence underwent a significant transformation on March 23, 2021. A new Cristina has been born since that time; there is a Cristina before and after. Today, I am making the effort to familiarize myself with this new individual; I am attempting to alleviate her anxieties and apprehensions that are associated with the discovery of the BRCA1 genetic mutation.

As of today

Cristina is situated on a boat in the calm sea, exhausted from her efforts to surmount the swells of the stormy sea. Cristina is present; she is rowing toward her island of joy. Cristina is rowing with all her vitality against any weather, but the duration of the journey to her is uncertain.