Saturday 30 March 2024

The words every woman dreads

When Sara (not her real name) was told she had breast cancer, her world fell apart. She shares her feelings with our readers…

“My personal 9/11 trauma all started on 5 September, just under two months ago…

A week before that, I was getting dressed to take my daughter to a friend’s house to watch the St. Julian’s festa fireworks, which were spectacular. I accidentally hit something quite hard on my breast which instantly got me wondering.

I mentioned it to my friend and left it at that. For a week I procrastinated until, after a sleepless night, I woke up, dialled the clinic and asked for an ultra sound.  I was sure it was just another water cist as I had one the year before.

Within half an hour I was undergoing a biopsy and every question you can possibly think of rushed through my head. Every answer I got spelt cancer! Every hint I got from the doctor was that this was, in fact, something very serious.

Every magazine I came across had statistics, articles, some good, some tragic about cancer in general, especially breast cancer because October – the awareness month – was coming up. I couldn’t get away from those words.

Calm but numb I called my husband and within an hour after that, we were taking my daughter to a party in Gozo. I couldn’t ruin her day – and it hadn’t quite sunk in – until I got on the Gozo ferry and all the energy drained out of my body.    The unimaginable had happened and the second twin tower in my life had just come crashing down.

Devastation is a mild description of what goes through a mother’s mind.

“I’m ready to die”,  I kept saying, with the hugest contradiction going through my mind, “it’s impossible, God gave me my daughter, I just can’t leave her, who would look after her?”

My mind was racing a mile a minute and going round in circles as I thought of all the responsibilities I have towards her. I have to be around for her, I thought, she needs me, what if she gets the same disease one day, but at the same time, how can this happen to her now? It’s not a question of why me, it’s a question of why her? She is too young, it’s unthinkable and tragic, I couldn’t be happy without her even if I were in heaven.

All of these thoughts and so many more just haunted me every minute of every hour of the day.  It’s all emotional pain, none of it physical.

Meanwhile, you have absolutely no information regarding your prognosis and that’s the torture…and the start of the waiting game. Before you know it you become an expert, or so you think, with all the information you can gather. You are told you will have a biopsy result in a couple of days and that fell due on a public holiday, so needless to say I moved heaven and earth to get an answer before that.  I managed and before I knew it I was sitting in front of one of the best surgeons on the island.

We are so lucky to be treated by such humane, reassuring surgeons and medical teams who make it personal and treat you as a friend the minute you step inside their clinic. You are not just a number and it makes all the difference. You are reassured once again and without any hesitation you put your life in their hands, plus in God’s, and eventually your oncologist’s and you pray and you beg for a second chance to spend more time, however much that is, with your family, watch your daughter grow up and enjoy the simple things in life for a while longer…

The more information you get, the clearer the picture becomes and the more hope you gain if results turn out the way you need them to. The whole world may tell you that you have to keep positive but unless any positive outcome is around the corner, you are at the discretion of this illness which is so psychologically devastating in itself. You don’t feel the least bit unwell and yet you have a life-threatening situation on your hands, or so it seems at the time. Nothing and no-one can convince you otherwise.  An operation date is set and once your tumour is out you feel so relieved to be rid of the dreaded thing that can be causing more and more damage as every minute goes by.

Like many people, I’ve had my share of bad news and tragedy.

My sister passed away just over a year ago and then there was the tragic death of my nephew, also a few months back. I suffered the loss of my parents, first experienced at the age of 15 when my Dad passed away so suddenly and then my mother a few years ago. So I knew that I couldn’t deal with this situation all on my own; that was my first twin tower crumbling. After that, my inner strength crumbled and I admitted that somehow I needed help desperately. Luckily my husband is quite calm and also my two school friends who had gone through the same experience were my mountains of help and strength.  The calls from my family abroad, the flowers, the cards, the calls are also what keep you going and are much appreciated.

My friend led me pace by pace through the process and reassurance that she was, in fact, a survivor herself – and that I would be too. I had to believe her; it was the only straw that I could clutch to.

I firmly believe that the only people who can understand you are the ones who know what you are going through. Only they can understand the enormity of emotions. Physically I had never felt better, I had started tennis, swam, rushed around as all mothers do, working, picking up my child, taking her to parties, cooking and so on, and the last thing on my mind was cancer.

Well, not quite, it is such a threat to each family that I confess I often thought about it, especially after my sister’s recent death.  It was all too much to bear!

The light at the end of the tunnel came with the results of the operation, six days of sleepless nights and the verdict. My surgeon, to whom I owe my life – how can I thank him enough? – explained my situation and the next morning I was sitting in front of the best oncologist inMalta. I braced myself once again.  Already the news was good, my tumour was all out and the lymph nodes were not affected, that was great news, but still I had my doubts, would it be chemo or radiotherapy? I was convinced I needed chemo so I closed my eyes, held my breath and was in shock to hear that I needed 19 sessions of radio therapy.  I was overjoyed, to say the least, but I did not show it, because I was numb. I almost doubted that this would be enough. I joked with the oncologist and told him to please make sure, that surely he wouldn’t put my life at risk, would he?   Again I put my life in his hands and fate will do the rest.

I had just joked with him that I had breast cancer and do not have it anymore as I was told I had left it at the hospital – “quite right” he reiterated.  He said off you go, have a drink and go for a swim – the best doctor’s orders I have ever heard! And that’s exactly what I did.

It’s still early days. I sit here putting my thoughts to words while still undergoing treatment so it’s all so fresh but yet so positive.  My amazing friends have made treatment every morning something to look forward to.  I’m not one who likes to rely on help but they gladly take me toBoffaHospitalwhere the staff is so efficient.  The atmosphere is depressing but they get the job done.  Appointment times are very reliable and it’s just a countdown of the number of days left for treatment.  Patients encourage each other with smiles or comments and experiences and then it’s out of there and off for a treat at a coffee shop and a chat. I haven’t seen some friends in ages but they care and this has given us a chance to meet up.

I’m just thankful I have today. I do cheat and keep asking God for another 20 years from today, but I do ask every day so that’s prolonging it a bit. I do agree that staying positive is of great help, but as my friend put it, cancer has a mind of its own.  That thought is frightening but realistic. I have undergone more and more tests for more reassurance and I guess it will just be a part of my life to keep doing so.

There are no guarantees and who knows what the future brings, but for now I can’t wait to share Christmas with my darling family and hopefully many more to come.”

 

For more information:   http://maltabreastscreening.info/breasthealth

 

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