I try to, but my chest is too tight and my head too heavy with the blood rushing to it. My vision flashes white, and a sudden wave of intense nausea crests over me, buckling my knees and turning my skin clammy before the world around me is sucked underwater.
CHAPTER 33
Six months ago
The studio director’s voice in my earpiece cues me to stand by. I tell the visibly nervous doctor fidgeting beside me that we’re about to go live before relaxing my face into a smile and staring down the black circle of the camera lens.
In the tiny speaker pushed inside my ear, Channel One’s breakfast show anchor, Juanita Caro, says, ‘As we continue our coverage of Pink Ribbon Day this morning, we’ve got our reporter Josie Larsen attending a beautiful fundraising breakfast at Centennial Park.’
Shit, someone screwed up. The breakfast cross isn’t until after the eight o’clock news!
The presenter pauses, which means I’m on, regardless of the error. ‘Good morning, Juanita,’ I say to the camera. ‘That’s right, I am here at this beautiful location to celebrate breast cancer awareness month with some wonderful women, but before we get tothe breakfast, I’m honoured to have here with me Doctor Mary Glover—a senior breast surgeon from the New South Wales Breast Clinic.’ The camera pans to Doctor Glover, who gulps through a terrified smile.
‘Doctor Glover, at what age should women begin screening for breast cancer?’
‘Thank you for having me on, Josie,’ the doctor replies shakily. ‘The recommended age to begin screening depends on several factors, but what is true inallcases is that early detection saves lives. But in general terms, women over fifty should be screened at least once a year, but women over forty are also entitled to one free breast screening every two years.’
The knot that’s embedded in my gut loosens a little at the specialist’s recommendation.
Phew. I’m not even thirty yet.
I flick away a fly and move to the next question that I memorised on the drive here. ‘Many of us know to do our own breast checks at home and go to the doctor right away if we find a lump. But what other, perhaps lesser-known symptoms should we be aware of?’
Doctor Glover nods through my words, some of her initial jitters easing out of her expression. ‘Great question, Josie. There are a number of symptoms that can be indicative of breast cancer when there isn’t a lump, and I’ll run you through some of them. Any changes to your nipple, including any discharge, should always be mentioned to your doctor. Another concern would be if an area of skin on your breast begins to thicken or dimple, like the skin of an orange. Unexplained breast pain or tenderness isalso worth talking to your doctor about. A swollen lymph node in your armpit can be a sign of breast cancer spreading to the lymphatic system, and believe it or not, even a cough that won’t go away can mean that breast cancer has advanced—’
My entire body stiffens, and all my focus on Doctor Glover drains out of me before fixating on the dry cough that I’ve been battling for the past few months.
Oh my god.
What if I have breast cancer that’s already spreading through my system?
The doctor’s deep-set eyes and bobbed black hair distort in my view, then disappear inside a dark funnel, her voice thinning to a faint echo beneath the rush of blood to my ears. My chest rises and falls with sharp, shallow breaths that I can’t seem to catch. I think I hear my name, but the accelerating pounding of my heart drowns out the sound. I clutch my chest and dig my palm into the point of pressure.
What is happening to me?? Is this a heart attack?
Feet shuffle before me, and a delicate hand lightly curls around my other wrist. I reach out to take the doctor’s hand, but my palm is so sweaty that my fingers slip off hers.
‘Josie!’ a jarring voice snaps in my left ear, like there’s a man crouched inside my eardrum. ‘What is going on—you’re still live!’
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
CHAPTER 34
Today
I don’t know how Zac has this pull with Doctor Ellison, but at ten minutes past nine the following morning, we’re sitting in her waiting room and his steady hand is cupping my bouncing knee.
From the moment I passed out in his arms last night, he’s been by my side like the role model of a best friend, a boyfriend—I don’t know what. A lump in my breast is my worst-case scenario, and my anxiety’s wiping the floor with me … turning me into a petrified, furious, hollow shell of my former self.
The doctor calls my name, and Zac turns to me with a question in his eyes.
‘I’ll be OK,’ I say numbly, giving his fingers a quick squeeze.
As I walk away from him and into Doctor Ellison’s office, a bleak feeling sinks over me. I missed a chance to treat Zac like we’re more than friends andinvite him to remain by my side, but this is my fucking misery in life. He’s had so much to deal with in his past; I don’t want to bring him in on this too.
