‘Cancer humbles you and teaches you to value the little things in life’

Dearbhaile O’Hare first discovered a lump in her breast two years ago. Her doctor reassured her that age was on her side, as she was only in her 40s. But she was referred for tests, regardless, which realised her worst fears.

“To be honest, once I found the lump [in June 2021] my gut told me it was going to be pretty serious from the start,” she says. “Life was pretty busy at the time and I waited a while just in case it might ‘go away’. Ironically, our company had very generously brought in a new perk since the pandemic – the concept of giving ‘wellness days’ off, whereby during the summer and autumn, we were given one Friday off each month to switch off and prioritise our wellness. So, I bit the bullet and used one of these days to make an appointment to go see a GP.

“After examining me, she gave me some reassurance as I was young, fit and healthy, but said that, as per standard protocol, as I was ‘symptomatic’ because I had a lump, she was going to refer me to a consultant at St Vincent’s Private Hospital. I got a letter in the post a few days later, with an appointment to see the surgeon within three weeks.

“I think I subconsciously knew it was cancer as soon as I found the lump and it grew quite quickly over a relatively short space of time, so it wasn’t looking great really.”

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After the initial appointment with the surgeon, the 47 year old was booked in for a mammogram and following this she underwent an ultrasound and biopsy. “I left the hospital at 4.30pm on a Tuesday after seeing the surgeon with an appointment card in my hand for a mammogram the next morning at 8am; this was basically him telling me that it was serious, without having to tell me.

“And after the mammogram, I was told to head straight in for an ultrasound. This was followed immediately by a biopsy – basically a full triple assessment before 9am. I remember the lovely sonographer asking if I had someone to drive me home and that’s all she needed to say really – preparing me, without actually telling me.

“They said they would bring me back in for some preliminary results on Friday afternoon and I should bring someone along with me, despite the Covid restrictions at the time. Those few days were the longest few days of my life – existing in limbo, knowing it was more than a lump, but not yet knowing how bad it was. On the Friday, myself and my husband went to the hospital together for the preliminary results and a nurse escorted us into the room; this again was telling me, without having to tell me.

“My surgeon cut to the chase and said those words no one wants to hear and confirmed that it was cancer,” she says. “Even though I half expected it, I think I only managed a high-pitched squeak of thanks because, as clichéd as it sounds, I could see his mouth moving, but all I heard was white noise and the nurse asking if I was okay, as I was likely in shock. I could clearly see my legs were shaking, but it felt like they belonged to someone else. All I remember really from that appointment were two words – cancer and treatable – and I hung on to the latter like it would stop me falling off the side of a cliff.

I set myself a target of walking 10,000 steps every day throughout my entire treatment plan and to take a photo of something unusual and beautiful on each of my daily walks. This gave me a routine, outside of the numerous hospital appointments

“The next few weeks were the hardest part of the entire process. Waking on the hour, every hour, wondering if it was really me who had cancer. My every thought was consumed by the ifs and buts – living in a constant state of fight or flight and jumping out of my skin each time the phone rang – until all the scans and tests were completed and we knew exactly what we were dealing with.

“To make matters worse, I was diagnosed right at the very end of September 2021, just before International Breast Cancer Awareness Month, so I felt like it was following me everywhere as it seemed like it was the topic of every TV programme, newspaper article, podcast and fundraising campaign.

“But, thankfully, once I had my treatment plan in place, a weird calmness came over me. Fear and anger changed to acceptance, that it was beyond my control and I just had to trust in the medical process and the magic my oncology team were about to work. So, I focused on what I could control.

“I set myself a target of walking 10,000 steps every day throughout my entire treatment plan and to take a photo of something unusual and beautiful on each of my daily walks. This gave me a routine, outside of the numerous hospital appointments and helped to focus my mind, while keeping up some level of mobility and fitness. It also taught me to slow down and appreciate the little things and I now have an added bonus of some lovely photos to look back at.”

Once the treatment programme began, the Dublin woman underwent six rounds of chemotherapy, followed by surgery and a further 10 rounds of chemotherapy, combined with immunotherapy. She has spent the best part of two years “keeping a low profile” as she focused on getting out the other side.

“Had I been told at the very start that I had 19 months of all of this ahead of me, it would have been so much more overwhelming,” she says. “It was a long and difficult slog, gritty and lonely at times, but focusing only on each stage, one step at a time, made it doable. And aside from the support and care from my amazing oncology team at SVPH [St Vincent’s Private Hospital], I am blessed to be surrounded by a fantastic family, circle of friends, colleagues and neighbours. It felt like a tsunami of love.

“My hubby, Paul, remained upbeat and positive the whole way through and drove me to every one of my 25 chemo infusions. I am also very lucky to come from a family of GPs – both my parents are retired GPs as is one of my brothers, who was a phenomenal support to me. I could ask him all those niggly questions I was too afraid to Google and also got advice about the ever-increasing list of side effects.

Cancer humbles you and teaches you to really value the little things in life. There is beauty in simplicity

“In January of this year, I signed up to a Marie Keating Foundation Survive and Thrive programme and logging on every Monday evening for those six weeks to chat, laugh and share tips with fellow survivors, felt like a giant warm hug. I really do believe this programme has been instrumental in my overall recovery. It was exactly what I needed, at exactly the right time and it definitely helped me get my mojo and zest for life back. Cancer is not a journey anyone can walk alone, and thanks to the support of organisations such as the Marie Keating Foundation, it’s not one anyone has to walk alone.”

The business development director has finally finished her treatment and is well on the road to recovery and she would advise others to seek medical advice as soon as they have any concerns – and if recently diagnosed, to try to take things as they come and be positive. “Don’t hang about, go and get any funny little lump, bump, puckering or rash checked,” she advises. “Don’t feel embarrassed and definitely don’t feel like you are wasting anyone’s time, as you’re not. It’s like that saying ‘If you don’t make time for your wellness, you will be forced to make time for your illness.’

“For anyone who has been diagnosed, I would say that no two cancer journeys are the same, so you will walk your own unique path. Get yourself – or try to borrow – a fluffy [dog] companion and get out in nature every single day. Breathe and take it one day at a time. Spend quality time with your loved ones.

“Also, drink two litres of water daily, invest in a good lip balm and lots of medicated mouth wash and exercise on your ‘good’ days. Stay away from Dr Google, slow down, belly laugh, cry when you need to, buy those damn shoes and get oodles of sleep. Cancer humbles you and teaches you to really value the little things in life. There is beauty in simplicity.

“And I will pass on my lucky little mantra, which I wrote as a note in my phone on the first day of my diagnosis – ‘you can do this, you will do this, trust and believe’.”