Cath’s Story

"Every test holds a degree of uncertainty, a slight holding of the breath until the all clear is given."

My first brush with cancer was in 1998, when my father was diagnosed with bowel cancer. Dad was given two years to live. I had two young children at the time, but it was cancer that had the more profound effect on me. My father and I had a difficult relationship, we both had strong views and were passionate in expressing them. I learned so much about pain and suffering, and strength and the sheer mental exhaustion that accompanies a cancer diagnosis. We had many times in those two years where we were summoned to say our farewells, and one of the things I will be most grateful for is having that time to heal old wounds with my father and be with him right to the end.

Two years later my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She has just celebrated her 89th birthday. They don’t make women like my mother these days. She was the youngest child of 12. Her father died when she was only two years old. I learned a lot about stoicism and endurance from my Mum.

In 2002 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I felt an almond shaped lump in my right breast. When I showed my husband, he thought I was overreacting and dismissed it as most likely a normal breast structure. I had an uneasy feeling about “the lump” but didn’t act on my suspicions for a few months. Then one morning after I had a shower, I actually noticed that I could see this lump in the mirror. It was this visual of “the lump” that I decided I could not ignore. I made an appointment that day to see the doctor.

The next part of my journey is clearly etched in my mind. It is like a film that has been put into slow motion. It was a Thursday and I arranged with the doctor to have a mammogram before work. I sensed that something was not quite right when the radiographer said they wanted to get one of the doctors to look at the images, and then came back saying that they thought they would get a better image if they did an ultrasound. My suspicions heightened! When they returned this time, they urged me to make an appointment the same day with my GP. I knew something was up!

I was a long day waiting and wondering what was going to happen. I saw my GOP after work and he told me that “the lump” did indeed look suspicious and advised me to see a breast surgeon the following Monday. He rang and spoke to a breast surgeon, who arranged a biopsy the following day. Everything began to take on a surreal state. By the end of the next week I had undergone first a partial mastectomy, followed by a radical mastectomy when they realised that the cancer was actually in three sites.

The surgeon was brilliant. I recall him talking to me one day, asking how I was going emotionally and confessing that this was not his strong suite, but he would find someone for me to talk to professionally. He was as good as his word and the psychologist I began working with him and he helped me find “the new normal” in my life.

The next few weeks and months were dictated by recovery from the surgery and the AC chemotherapy (Adriamican cyclophosphamide) that followed. This stage of my recovery was overseen by Dr Jacquie Chirgwin, and I will be forever grateful to her for the dedication, compassion and devotion she gave to each and every one of her patients. She did have a reputation for ALWAYS running behind in her appointments, but this was never an issue for me, because I knew she gave all her patients 100% of her attention when she was with them.

At five years post diagnoses I was feeling quietly confident that I had beaten the beast. At ten years I had consigned breast cancer to be a part of my past and 16 years later I was stunned when what I thought was bronchitis, turned out to be metastatic breast cancer in the form of pleural effusion.

This all happened just before Christmas, 2018. There are times in your life that you remember with extraordinary clarity. My GP decided that my “bronchitis” needed the opinion of a respiratory physician. I saw him on the Friday, and he decided that a CT scan was in order. I wasn’t able to arrange this till midday the following Monday. At 2pm is receptionist rang me say that Michael would like me to see him within the hour to discuss the results. By 6pm I was admitted to hospital and three days later had the diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer.

My new world order is still coming to terms with metastatic breast cancer. I am trying to find a “new normal”. As we Thursday Girls know, you immediately start to grow another family, people who understand that life becomes more uncertain with a diagnosis of metastatic breast cancer. Blood tests, x-rays and CT scans all become part of the fabric of every week. Every test holds a degree of uncertainty, a slight holding of the breath until the all clear is given.

The journey is not just about me. My family is also impacted by the uncertainty of life. I see the worry on their faces and try to support them by being as open and frank as I can about what is going on.

Thursday Girls have been a revelation to me. A gift of caring women, prepared to share their stories, so that others might find the journey a little less unbearable. A place for laughter, tears, learning, support, and above all where each person’s experience of cancer is recognized as unique to them. I am blessed to have found the Thursday Girls, and especially Marg and Sue, who give their wisdom and compassion to everyone in the group.