In May 2019 I noticed that my right nipple was starting to become flat and pointing downwards.  I wasn’t concerned. I thought that it was because my bras were too tight and squashing it.  I even went out and bought some new bras that were a better fit. 

During the middle of June I stood in front of a mirror and lifted my arms above my head and noticed that my right breast had a slight indentation along the outside edge.  I had a quick feel for a lump but could feel nothing  Again – still not worried!  I asked my husband if he could see a difference and then could he feel any difference.  He told me that my right breast felt ‘less full’ and asked if I was worried about it. 

I still wasn’t worried.

So I googled ‘pulled down nipple’ and suddenly Breast Cancer jumped out, screaming at me!  It hadn’t really entered my head – even though my sister had died of breast cancer, in 2004 aged just 32. 

I knew I had to check for lumps and that inverted nipples were a sign but mine wasn’t inverted – it was just not where it usually was.

I didn’t sleep too well, with a brain going into overdrive and even ending up messaging a friend at 3am.  She told me to contact the GP in the morning but I said I already had an appointment on the Friday., This was to follow up on a blood test I had recently had, after complaining of feeling constantly tired.  She told me not to wait that long, so in the morning I called the GP.  After explaining my symptoms, the GP told me she wanted to see me that day, so I said I would pop in after work. I think I was convincing myself that it was probably nothing serious, as something like cancer wouldn’t happen to me!

As soon as the GP examined me, she told me that she was referring me to the urgent breast clinic.  She asked why I had left it 2 months before going – I told her I hadn’t been concerned! 

She told me that she had to make me aware that this could be cancer, but I knew she had to say that to all the people she referred, so not overly worried. She told me I had a ‘tethered nipple’, which of course, I then googled to death!

That night, I had an overwhelming feeling that this really was cancer.  I didn’t feel really scared – I think I felt quite numb. 

Working in Palliative Care, I am around people with terminal cancer and other life limiting illnesses every day.  I spoke to a couple of the nurses and one of the doctors and described my symptoms.  I knew my feeling of it being cancer was justified by their response. 

They didn’t tell me that it was probably nothing, that it would be fine, so I knew I needed to be prepared.  That was the one and only days that I cried.  I called my husband on my car journey home and told him we needed to be prepared for this to be bad news. 

My appointment came along and off we went.  I had an examination then a mammogram.  The mammogram looked clear – maybe this was all a mistake then!  But then the consultant sent me for an ultrasound.  I think I had started to calm down after my clear mammogram and was quite cheery as the radiologist scanned my breast.  Suddenly she started to focus on just one area, then under my arm. I asked if she had found something, to which she replied that she had. 

Then I knew things were about to go ´tits up´.  She did a biopsy in a couple of areas, then I was sent back to wait.

The Consultant called me back in to her room but this time she introduced me to the Breast Care Nurse. I knew she was there to help soften the blow.

The consultant told me that there was an area of concern but until the biopsy results came back, we couldn’t know for sure what it was.  I asked her what her honest opinion was, to which she told me she thought it was cancer.

We were sent off with the breast nurse, who had a very sympathetic nature about her but I knew I didn’t need any sympathy. How dare cancer try and infiltrate my life again!  It had taken my sister and there was no way I was going to allow this to happen again.

The biopsy results came back 2 weeks later and I was diagnosed with grade 2 lobular breast cancer.  The good news was it looked quite small and treatable.  It would be removed during an operation and I should avoid chemo and just need some radiotherapy.

And so the journey began.  A journey full of appointments.  I think I suddenly developed battle armour.  I didn’t feel afraid, I knew I would beat this, it was just a ¨blip¨.

An MRI scan identified that this cancer was bigger that initially thought but I didn’t worry.  It was treatable. 

I was lucky to have a surgeon who specialised in doing the ¨latissimus dorsi flap procedurë.  This involves taking an oval flap of skin, fat, muscle and blood vessels from your upper back and using it to reconstruct the breast.  The usual surgery for lobular cancer is a mastectomy.  But I would be having a partial mastectomy, removing around a quarter of my breast and then reconstructing using a flap from my back. I was still feeling positive – it was treatable!  I held on to that the whole time. 

We decided we needed to tell the family.  My children were my biggest worry.  Their experience of people with cancer was that they died.  I reassured them that I was fine, I felt fine and I would be fine.  I did the same with my parents, family and friends – I would be fine, I felt fine and was fine.

That became my focus.  I didn’t want people to worry about me – if they could see me functioning as usual, they wouldn’t be worried or upset.  And it worked.  People could see I was still carrying on as usual.  I was positive, I wasn’t going to let this define me.  And this worked on all levels. 

The more I was determined to show everyone I was fine and coping, the more I felt ok and was coping.  Sitting and sobbing in the corner wasn’t going to help anyone – especially me.  I needed to hold on to the fact that this was ¨treatablë, it had been caught early.  My children began to see that I was still ¨mum¨ and I was still carrying on as usual and they became less worried, which was my primary aim. 

Only my husband was allowed to see the worries and the fact I was scared but we supported each other and became a proper team.  I realised how important he really was to me and even now, I know that I would have struggled without him to talk to, to tell him my darkest fears in the middle of the night when my brain was in overdrive.

But I held on to the positivity.  Having spent many years around Caroline, she had fed to me the importance of positivity.  It isn’t always an easy thing to do – looking for positives but the more you do it, the easier it becomes and that is now how I live my life.  Even in darkest times, there will always be a positive to notice.

My operation went well – no spread of cancer cells into my lymphatic system, so no need for chemo but 15 doses of radiotherapy and medication for the next 10 years. 

The hardest part of my journey came after everything had finished.  Once the appointments and treatments had ended, then I started to process it all.  Then the fears began.  Had it all gone? Would it come back?  Should I have had chemo?  I struggled with the medication – it was a reminder that I had had cancer.  I didn’t want the reminder, I wanted to move on.  2020 was a tough year, mentally.  The pandemic meant that all my appointments became virtual.  No one checked me physically.  Then I had a call from the Well Being team.  I told them my fears and they arranged for me to have a physical check up.  This did help put some of my fears at ease. 

Then I began to develop hip pain.  I mentioned it to my consultant at my yearly check.  She booked me in for a bone scan.  Then I became very frightened.  I knew that they would be looking for cancer again.  I knew that if they found it in my bones, there was no cure.  Then my mortality really hit me.  I spent weeks before and after the scan, feeling like a wreck but only on the inside.  Outwardly I carried on as usual.  I didn’t want to worry others with my fears.  When my results came back as negative for cancer, the relief was overwhelming.  I realised that I had no control over whether this cancer came back or not but I did have control over how I handled it. 

I wasn’t going to allow this fear, this cancer to dominate over my life.  I wasn’t going to waste precious time worrying over something that I had no control over.  I needed to park this and move forward.  I needed to live my life, so I did. 

I have now parked the cancer.  It is not allowed to disrupt my life, it is not allowed to dominate my thoughts, it is not allowed to cause me worry.  I feel more at peace now I have decided this.  Of course, it does sneak into my thoughts every now and again, but I try not to allow it to take over.  It was all about battle tactics and I was going to fight this journey from start to finish.

Ladies if you are worried please go and seek help, the sooner you deal with it, the better your chances.