Nov 3

Nov 3 Why I need to talk to You about breast cancer

A woman's heart, Blogpost A writer's life

Be aware of breast cancer. If you’re scared, don’t shy away. We’re all scared.

First you need to admit, “I think there might be something wrong.” Then take decisive action. Early detection of breast cancer could save your life, too.

I sometimes think, What if I had missed the cue?

The cue giving me the chance to catch the cancer in its early stages? Perhaps I would not be here to write this important message to you now.

You see, even when you have breast cancer, you may feel perfectly fine and be taking life in your stride. At least for me, that’s how it was three years ago. Other friends have told me the same. My body was giving me very little warning. I was tired, yes, would suddenly feel exhausted and need to rest. But in the midst of a busy life, as the years went by, was that surprising? I had no idea that I had breast cancer. In fact, I’d been feeling particularly well for my 57 years that spring.

But bit by bit the diagnosis of that awkward little lump came through. The truth pronounced so caringly by the beautiful specialist in the Breast Unit clanged in the air like the closing of prison gates. I had my sentence. I was inside, one of them – a cancer patient. Like dear friends and other acquaintances before me, I had breast cancer. Some have survived, some are striving, some are coming through. Others, sadly, have not made it. I’m sure it is the same for you.

I say this not to frighten you, but to spur you on. Be aware. Act on your suspicions. Take care to care for yourself.

As the Breast Cancer Awareness Month campaign drew to a close this October, I realized that through my blog I could share some valuable personal advice with you. I was spurred on to do this by the international campaign, that raises awareness and funds for precious research as well as providing support for those affected by breast cancer.

But who are those affected? First, did you know that a small proportion of breast cancer sufferers are men? Then, like any cancer diagnosis, not only the sufferer but the entire family are deeply affected in a broader sense. Breast cancer is certainly not ‘just’ a concern for women.

It is essential for you to take on board that early detection of breast cancer saves lives. It can save your life, protecting you and your loved ones from the worst loss.

Bleeding hearts. Take steps to protect yourself and your family from breast cancer.

That means - women, sisters, friends - that we have to be brave and seek out the dragon we fear so that others can help us to slay it. One in eight women can now expect a breast cancer diagnosis at some time in her life. Looking on the bright side, seven out of eight will be free from breast cancer, though a number of these will still face the spectre during diagnostic procedures that prove negative.

If there is something worrying you – a tiny lump or abnormality you begin to notice as you wash or shower or do your monthly check, then do not let it settle like a serpent coiled at the back of your mind.

My advice is this: stand in front of the mirror and look yourself in the eye. Say out loud, “I think there might be something wrong.” That is the crucial first step – admit to yourself that there might be something wrong. And then take the only sensible decision: “I need to know. Which doctor shall I talk to about it first?”

Go straight to your diary, mobile phone, calendar or computer and set that appointment with yourself: not a handful of weeks from now or a month from now. But now.

When is the next opportunity for you to make that call and set the diagnostic ball rolling? You were showering on Sunday? Then Monday morning. Never mind what else you were going to do that day. First and foremost, you’re going to do this. Because you are too precious to neglect.

Don't let the time you have run out. Suspicious? It's time to act.

Just think. Aren’t you at the heart of your family? Your husband or companion needs you. Your children need you, however old they may be. If you are lucky enough to have them still, your parents need you. Your sisters, brothers, relatives, friends all need and love you, too. You matter. Just think how much you matter! It will bring tears to your eyes.

I matter. We matter. We really do. And that is even without counting the valuable roles we cover in society through our chosen occupations, professions and associations.

Because I matter, my health must take priority over any work or family engagements I may need to set aside to see this thing through. And there could be many. Even getting a diagnosis can be a full-time job. Surgery, convalescence, treatment with chemotherapy and/or radiotherapy – if it comes to that – are more than full-time jobs. So this is a time when you’re going to be easy on yourself and rely on others: partners, sons, daughters, friends. They will manage. But they will manage so much better if at the end of it all, they still have you.

Glad to be alive. 3 years on with my husband and son on a very special day I might have missed.

It’s great that our attitudes have changed and we have learnt to be more forthright about breast cancer. I’m sorry if you are one of those people who still cringe when they hear the C-word. I have learnt to use it freely because it is accurate and we must know this enemy so that we can face it. The name cancer used to be unpronounceable; it was literally an unspeakable affliction far into the 20th century. Certain family members and friends withered and died for reasons only whispered or suspected. How lonely that must have made the sufferer.

I think we owe a lot to leaders like Nancy Reagan and Betty Ford, American First Ladies willing to come out into the open about their diagnosis and treatment, thereby lessening the stigma and shame surrounding breast cancer. Nancy Reagan knew that ‘by sharing her own story she would empower others to engage in self-examination, learn about their family histories and seek professional screening, advice and care’. This is the way that lives are saved and she is rightly honoured for the role she played.

Helping us to be increasingly aware are ordinary women who share with friends, colleagues and family. But also celebrities from Angelina Jolie to Kylie Minogue flying the flag and keeping this issue current, proving that women can not only be treated to prevent or recover from breast cancer, but can remain beautiful and iconic as they do so.

We need this news, because breast cancer assaults us on different levels: it threatens our lives, but also our womanhood, our femininity at the core. It strains our relationship, often around the time when menopause is already disrupting our hormones, sexuality, systems. At my most recent round of clinical tests, an ageing nun in her white habit shared the anxious wait of females of many different backgrounds and generations. We are all in this together.

At some level, every woman is aware of breast cancer today. But we also have to apply that awareness to ourselves. Are we being too busy or too preoccupied or too damn scared to follow up a suspicion? It could be just a small symptom plus a feeling of unease (that serpent). Won’t we look silly if it turns out to be nothing? Won’t we be wasting the precious time of a specialized medical facility and staff?

No.

The point is, prevention today lies in early diagnosis. This is a curable disease, as long as we can catch it in time. So it is never too early to ask for tests. But it can be too late, if we tarry.

“Early detection in order to improve breast cancer outcome and survival remains the cornerstone of breast cancer control”

— World Health Organization

My family doctor guided me through referrals to specialists and diagnostic tests that saved my life. She took seriously the risk that that scary little lump, only 4 millimetres wide at first, might be a carcinoma and so did the staff at the Breast Unit. Even when the magnetic resonance (MRI) proved negative, protocol was followed and the definitive test – a biopsy – carried out. Meanwhile, the tumour, not yet classified as benign or malignant, had grown in size to 6 mm, 8mm, 11 mm, in a period of a few short months. The rest is history.

And if the final test had proved negative? If only! The medical staff would have rejoiced with me, knowing the vital importance of the work they do in safeguarding women’s lives just one at a time.

And if I’d waited for my periodic screening before speaking up? Or had not followed through step after step in what turned out to be a long diagnostic process? Then perhaps by now I would be dead.

I say that not to frighten you – though it does frighten me – but to spur you on. Don’t be neurotic, but do be vigilant, proactive, determined. If you have a suspicion, then act on it. If it’s time for you to have a routine clinical test, say a mammogram or a scan, be sure to schedule it and fit it in to your busy life. Follow through any inconclusive results until qualified professionals are sure you do not have breast cancer.

And no matter how things develop for you, stay positive! Diagnosis may feel like a prison sentence, but it no longer has to carry the death penalty. So much can be done to remedy the disease today. It’s not easy, but you will be in good company.

In the handful of days between my diagnosis and surgery, I wrote this entry in my personal diary: ‘Life’s ups and downs. My image is of a wave system: the ripples have got a lot closer together and stronger lately! Feeling OK after a brief weep in bed last night. I’m not alone, after all. The tunnel isn’t so dark as I feared, now that I can see round the first bend.’

Life as a journey on a twisting road where the unknown lies ahead

The metaphor of life as a journey has stayed with me since that summer when I still didn’t know for sure. Travelling northwards towards home and imminent further tests through the beautiful mountains of Italy, within sight of the glimmering Adriatic Sea, we rounded a crest and before us lay a tunnel – long, dark, twisting. There was no way forward but through. My husband was at the wheel, taking it all in his stride. Wearing dark glasses for my eyesight, I was blinded for a while. But as my eyes began to adjust, what was black turned grey. The beautiful views of emerald and blue were gone for some time and we had to slow down and proceed through the gloom with care.

At the end of the tunnel I emerged into a world of even more colourful beauty and I have never stopped feeling a very special sense of gratitude and joy that continues to enrich my life.

I don’t recommend getting cancer. But it is a complete game-changer. And as a writer, I tried to live through each procedure with curiosity and a sense of learning – I was getting to experience all this from the inside! Such positivity didn’t always work, needless to say. As P D James, one of my favourite novelists and crime writers said, “Nothing that happens to a writer – however happy, however tragic – is ever wasted.” And that is true.

Ladies, take good care! Don’t forget my advice.

And for the men reading this, gently remind your partners and help them face the fear of breast cancer; be steadfast if you get to drive through that tunnel.

If you would like to contact me, I would love to hear your response.

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