It’s important to set the scene of when my breast cancer journey began as it was the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, such a unique and challenging time of our lives. I was at the peak of my career working as District Director of People and Culture at a Local Health District, leading a team supporting all staff including frontline health workers.
During this time, I noticed some blushing on my left breast and had a sore nipple. I decided to visit my General Practitioner (GP) to ask when I was due for my next mammogram and ultrasound. I had been having these scans annually for 14 years due to a benign tumour in my right breast.
There was something concerning on both my mammogram and ultrasound, so I was sent for a biopsy. The two days between having the biopsy and getting the results were the most anxious time – did I or did I not have cancer? I tried not to catastrophise and focused on having an optimistic mindset and not concern my family.
I was the first patient this GP had delivered a cancer diagnosis to, and she did it with every piece of human-centred care and empathy. It was confirmed I had early-stage invasive breast cancer in my left breast, luminal B subtype.
I was 49 years old, scared and afraid. At that stage, you don’t know whether it is in your lymph nodes or how progressed it is. The first thing that goes through your mind is the absolute worst – ‘I don’t want to die.’ There’s a lot of fear of the unknown. What was the journey in front of me? I called my husband and my identical twin – and I just broke down in tears.
My approach was to take each step as it came, reminding myself to deal with the facts and be guided by the experts.
A supportive treatment journey
Everything happened so quickly. My treatment journey was so positive thanks to an incredible team at the Mater Private Hospital in North Sydney.
The first step was to see a surgical oncologist, Professor Andrew Spillane. He was fantastic in looking at me as a whole person and my health history, factoring in comorbidities and risk. Professor Spillane sent me for further diagnostic testing, an MRI scan to see the extent of breast cancer and inform the approach to surgery. Thankfully having larger breasts, I was able to have a wide local excision (a breast-conserving surgery), and then a therapeutic mammoplasty to reshape the breast.
I had radiotherapy at GenesisCare Mater Private under the care of radiation oncologist Dr Gillian Lamoury. I am now on a daily medication and have regular infusions to reduce the risk of the cancer returning. Throughout this ongoing journey, I have been supported by medical oncologist Professor Fran Boyle who epitomises person-centred care.
I continue to partake in an exercise physiologist program to keep me strong and healthy, and to see a physiotherapist specialising in oncology breast care to manage radiation fibrosis side effects and risk of lymphoedema, as well as a psychologist to manage fear of cancer recurrence and adjustment to a ‘new normal’.
The far-reaching impact of cancer
First and foremost, cancer put a pause on my career. I did return to work briefly; however I made the decision to resign to focus on my health and treatment. How could I give everything to my treatment, my work and the people at the local health district and let alone my family and myself? I had some big decisions, and I didn’t make them alone. I made those decisions with my husband, my oncologist and my return-to-work psychologist.
However, leaving my career had a greater impact on me than I thought. I think I underestimated the ramifications of that decision– I didn’t recognise how much work meant to me; how much I derived being in a helping profession and role. I had to rewire, learn new skills and face my vulnerability and say it’s okay to be scared and vulnerable. I was also the breadwinner, so that was a big change and an added pressure for my husband and family. We are all human and can’t forget that cancer not only affects the patient, but also their loved ones.
This experience has made me rethink what is important – family, friends and your health.
On the upside, my diagnosis has enabled a personal journey of growth and exploration. I have am now a registered psychologist and a PhD/Master of Organisational Psychology Candidate. My research focuses on physician expertise that combines the psychology and oncology domains. So that’s the positive element – being able to help strengthen oncologists training, guide future workforce development and wellbeing, and make an impact on cancer care.
My hopes for the future beyond cancer
My life and view of the world is forever changed. Fear of cancer recurrence is real, but there is hope and light at the end of the tunnel. My hopes for the future are to stay well and strong, and professionally, as a registered psychologist, to make a difference in cancer care through practice and research.
My message to others is one of bravery and self care
Regular cancer screening is important in the early detection of cancer. Know your body, if you notice any changes – however vague – monitor and seek professional advice. Self-care is fundamental to navigating through the cancer continuum from diagnosis treatment and beyond.
For those diagnosed, every cancer journey is a unique journey. While others may share words of wisdom, no one will live that experience other than you. It’s distressing but remember – you can’t be brave and have courage without being scared. You can’t be strong without being vulnerable. It’s okay to say you’ve got this with tears. Be you! It’s okay.
You can’t do this alone. Let people in and graciously accept help. There’s plenty of support available and a community of people who care. Incredible things happen when people support each other.
The importance of breast screening
For women aged 50–74, a regular breast screen is the best way to find cancer early.
To book an appointment call 13 20 50 or visit Breastscreen NSW