MY HEALTH ERXPERIENCE:The fear of cancer never leaves and I don't suppose it ever will, writes NICOLA TURLEY
I WAS REALLY struck by an article and accompanying photograph in Healthplus a few months ago to publicise breast cancer awareness month. What drew my attention was the photograph – the participants were all older women. Yet just a year and a week previously, I was diagnosed with breast cancer at the age of 33.
While I am aware that the majority of women who are diagnosed are over 50 years of age, there is an increasing number of women under 40 – and yet there isn’t the same public awareness about this, and consequently they may not realise that they should also be looking out for any unusual signs.
When I found a lump, I thought I was too young, but nonetheless I immediately went to the doctor. It was just 11 months after the birth of our little girl, Emelie. To say it was a shock is putting it mildly, given that I am fit and healthy (well, at least I thought I was), not overweight, and there is no family history of breast or ovarian cancer.
Following a very thorough examination, my doctor confirmed it was a lump, but she couldn’t tell if it was sinister or not. The policy was to examine and re-examine one week later, and if the lump was still there, she would refer me. So off I went, not overly burdened and tried to remain optimistic.
A week later, the doctor didn’t detect any difference – but the policy was to refer me for an expert opinion if the lump was still present. As we were going to a wedding the next day, and on holidays the day after that, I kept myself busy. My husband Paul was very supportive when I needed to talk it through.
On return from holiday I had an appointment for an ultrasound with a doctor on Prof Arnold Hill’s team in Beaumont Hospital. The doctor then said she would do a mammogram, and advised that she wanted to do a needle biopsy the following day. I got a shock at this point, but she was so professional and explained that it was to ensure that everything was covered.
I had my actual appointment with Hill in Beaumont the following Monday. Once I had the biopsy over, I had tried to just put it to the back of my mind. At this stage we hadn’t told anyone as we both felt there was no need to worry anyone unnecessarily.
However, the weekend before I was due to go for the appointment, I decided to take the train to Galway, my home place, with Emelie and stay with my brother and his wife, who happens to be my best friend. It meant I was able to tell them of my little saga, without doing so over the phone.
Hill never once used the word cancer during the appointment that Monday. He referred to the lump as being abnormal – having an abnormality. It did actually take a couple of seconds to sink in. He spoke about it very optimistically, and said, “We just need to sort this out and get it behind you, so you can move on with your life.”
The following few days were all a bit surreal. My sister came up the next day and my brother and his wife and kids came up at the weekend. It was just what we needed, to have family around. My parents were on holiday, so we all decided that we would not tell them until they got home.
My husband’s parents were fantastic, and live only an hour down the road. They did find it very hard to cope with the news too – and I think having a small baby just makes people think of all kinds of worst case scenarios.
The next couple of weeks were taken up with scans, hospital appointments and all that. I told my boss the very next day, and got great support from him and everyone when word eventually spread. It meant that we were in a very positive space by the time my parents came home from holidays.
I had my full mastectomy with diep flap reconstruction – in which tummy fat, tissue and blood vessels are removed and used to reconstruct the new breast – on October 24th last year, 10 days after my daughter’s first birthday.
I had a slight complication which required further surgery the following day, but thankfully this was sorted out.
That operation took about 10 hours – a long day for family and friends waiting for the phone to ring, not so for the patient who is oblivious. I came home from hospital on the following Saturday, nine days after surgery. I was so weak – the first day I got out of the bed was Thursday. All I wanted was to see my little baby.
My husband and I both agreed he would not bring her into the hospital as she was just too small and I didn’t want her to see me like that. He took a video of her each evening and brought it in to me. She started to walk the day I went into hospital, and I was there to witness it.
Before I left hospital I got the results of the analysis on the tumour, and they were very positive. It was small, measuring 2.2cm, very far from the chest wall. My lymph node biopsy had come back clear before I had had the surgery, which was also a good sign.
Altogether, it meant I would not need any radiotherapy, and it was also mentioned that I might not even require chemotherapy, I put that to the back of my mind at the time, as I knew the oncologist would have the final say.
The next few weeks were just spent in bed resting – I couldn’t concentrate on reading. Most days my husband would take me for lunch to get me out. Friends called around, and mentally I was doing really well although physically I was extremely tired.
The whole ordeal hit me in January. After a week or so, I decided I had to do something about it, so I went to the Arc cancer support centre in Eccles Street, Dublin. There I met some fantastic people, who were able to help me deal with all of the emotions I was feeling.
Arc held a workshop for younger women with breast cancer and I found this great. Finally, I was able to meet people of my age, having the same experience and the same emotions and being able to discuss it.
A year later, I am back at work four days a week. It was a milestone – I needed the stimulation, missed the office interaction, and my confidence returned. I walk to work most days, dropping Emelie to the creche along the way. I love that part of my day where we chat about the birdies in the sky, and bikes and the buses. It makes you realise what really is important.
Of course, the fear never leaves and I don’t suppose it ever will – but knowing that I caught it so early and acted straight away meant I did not have to go through chemotherapy.
Finding a lump and hoping it will go away is not how to deal with it. I would advise anyone in that situation to go straight to the doctor, and get it checked out.
In conversation with Lorna Siggins
