Linda's Story

We were at the end of 4 weeks at the beach and the indentation on the underside of my breast had got bigger over recent weeks. I was 49 and thought it was just one of those ageing things. I had been aware of it for 18months - 2 years. Our 8 year old needed to go to the doctor on the first day of school. I asked the doctor what this thing on my breast might be. From the ashen look on his face he didn't have to say anything. Within 30minutes I was at Mercy Breast Clinic having an ultrasound, mammogram and biopsy's On the five minute journey Timothy had asked "Why are you crying Mummy" then "This is the hospital? Why are we here?"

I was so fortunate with the speed that everything happened. The surgeon made it clear that everything pointed to it being breast cancer and a large tumour and whilst we wouldn't have the results until the next day we should treat it as if it was breast cancer. Planning began. All the alternatives were put to me objectivity and the decision was left to me. The next day the results were through. Yes, it was breast cancer. I had made the decision. My breast was diseased, it had to go, and all of it as soon as possible. I didn't want to have a reconstruction at the same time; I just wanted to get rid of it. That was the 1st February 2003 and on the 8th February my left breast was removed. I had a radical mastectomy.

The week between diagnosis and the operation was like an out of body experience. It was like was being played out in front of me and I was simply a spectator.

My eyes leaked a lot that week and questions jostled around in my brain. It hadn't been a lump but why didn't I ask about it sooner? I loved my life; I had a marvellous husband and three children, a girl starting her bursary year, a son in year 12 with sixth form certificate and Timothy who was only eight. I was letting them all down.

My husband and I decided it would be best if we were open and optimistic. We explained to family and friends what was going on. They were all fantastic. Our support network closed around us and looked after us throughout the whole experience - operation, chemotherapy and radiotherapy. I am a schoolteacher and decided to take a year off. With the prospect of chemotherapy there are too many bugs in a school.

My care from go to woe was exceptional. The surgeon was at all times honest and objective. My oncologists were also straight. I wanted to know what all this meant. The tumour was 4.5cm by 3.0cm(apparently the size of a cookie) Of the 21lymph nodes removed 3 were involved. The tumour had been grade 2 but with nodal involvement I was told that that was largely irrelevant. The tumour was hormone receptive and the oncologist asked if I would go on an international trial. The answer was "of course" Anything that would make me better I would do. My chemotherapy drugs were Adriamycin, cyclophosphamide and taxotere and they were administered every 21 days (6 cycles) I was needle shy and had to overcome this as blood tests were at some stages weekly. The lures in my hand were something that I also had to accept. The staff at the oncology department was nothing short of fantastic. They gave me emotional support and answered my questions honestly and frankly.

Chemotherapy certainly does knock the body around. I lost my hair on the 11th day after the first treatment. I also ended up in hospital for a few days as my white cell count went down to .02. Apparently this is the Taxotere. After that it was decided I would have a daily injection to artificially raise my white count. It is called GCSF and was administered through a lure in my abdomen. Wasn't I the brave one? I was fortunate, even though I felt nauseous, I never vomited. My eyes became very sensitive, my nose ran often, my mouth on occasions got ulcers and I got a little diarrhoea and heat burn. Food never tasted as you expected it to but in the end if it was going to kill any remnants of the cancer that might have got into the bloodstream then it was worth it.

I had my shoulder length bob cut short before the chemotherapy, so it wasn't such a shock when I lost my hair. I bought a wig but only wore it occasionally, mostly I wore bandannas and hats. I found that day 3 of each cycle was when I was at my lowest and that the effect was cumulative.

We managed to socialise, go away for weekends and life continued much as normal. I am on several committees and kept up this work along with some sewing, making two balls gowns for Amanda and helped to organise a great school after ball.

Radiotherapy was everyday (Mon to Fri) for four weeks. This was not as onerous as I had expected. It was necessary to look after the affected areas as burning can occur. I rubbed creams in and burning was kept to a minimum. I was taken aback by the fact that the burn was still coming out 2 weeks after treatment had finished.

Eighteen months after my mastectomy I had a reconstruction. It was like a turning point. I had thought that the loss of my breast had not been psychologically damaging but the boost that the reconstruction gave me was tremendous. I didn't have to wash prosthesis each night, when I washed myself in the shower I wasn't reminded of that phase in my life. I could wear a swimsuit again without being self-conscious. Best of all I got a flat tummy - there were some positives. Two and a half years later I look back and realise I have changed. I appreciate all that is around me and often think that the things that used to phase me are no longer important. There are occasions when I think what this means to me but right now I am a survivor and that is a good feeling.

Linda's Story

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