A journey through breast cancer

by Jackie Thompson

iVillager Jackie Thompson discovered her breast cancer by accident. Here she describes the diagnosis and how she and her family have coped

I found the lump in my breast quite by accident at the end of November 2003. I was dressing in the gym when my arm brushed over a lump in my left breast. I was referred to my local breast clinic on what is called 'the two week rule': this is to fast track anyone presenting with suspicious symptoms, in order to get a speedy diagnosis.

The waiting game
At the clinic I had a mammogram and ultrasound scan, then a doctor tried to aspirate the lump - draw liquid from it. But there was no liquid to draw. Next followed three biopsies. After that I had to wait eight days for the diagnosis.

I can tell you the waiting was very hard. I alternated two scenarios in my head - in one, I was in the doctor's room, being told everything was fine, the lump was benign and I could leave it in there or choose to have it removed, the other scenario was much more sinister, and was the one that was most accurate. I knew as soon as the doctor and two nurses entered the room what the result would be.

The diagnosis
The diagnosis was as I expected: I had cancer. I was told that the tumour was grade three. This is high grade - in other words, large. Mine was actually four-and-a-half centimetres. It's actually hard to describe what I felt. I was completely numb and felt almost bewildered. I was told then what the treatment plan was: chemotherapy first administered every three weeks for six sessions to try to shrink the lump, and also to try to avoid a mastectomy. A lumpectomy is a much kinder operation, followed by the surgery and then radiotherapy. To be honest, at this point I did not care about my breast at all. If they'd told me they needed to take both breasts and a leg I would have agreed - I just wanted to live long enough so that my grandson would really know me.

The Christmas before treatment
Immediately after this discussion, I saw an oncologist who sent me for a chest wall x-ray the same day. All this was on the 17 December, 2003. I was told treatment couldn't begin until the new year because of the holiday period. You can imagine what Christmas was like that year. I was terrified of the chemotherapy. I went out with my friends and daughters to the local pub on Christmas Eve and looked around me, not able to understand why everyone seemed so happy while I felt dreadful. I felt as though I was on the outside of life looking in.

I think the three weeks between diagnosis and the start of treatment were the worst. I was in limbo - knowing I was ill and not fighting it at that point. Imagination is a powerful thing, and I imagined the cancer running riot through my body. I can tell you I lost plenty of weight in that period.

The first chemotherapy
My sister accompanied me on my first chemotherapy. I felt almost faint from fright. However, the chemo went well. I was having Taxol and Epirubicin. Taxol takes a long time to deliver because it can give a bad reaction if administered quickly. I finally left the hospital at a quarter to midnight - straight home for a few glasses of wine.

The anti-sickness medication is great, and I did not feel bad at all throughout the chemotherapy. I got a little tired towards the end but managed to keep working and going to the gym - I had to work as I couldn't afford, as a single person, to have my salary reduced at all.

The chemotherapy caused all my hair to fall out, and I mean all. I was shiny bald. Before having chemo I had shoulder-length straight hair. Now my hair is short and choppy and initially was very curly. And the chemotherapy hadn't shrunk the lump as much as was needed to avoid a mastectomy. I had been hoping for a lumpectomy. I had the operation in May and then had radiotherapy which ended mid-August.

Histology showed that the cancer had progressed to my pectoral muscle and that I had a second tumour. My tumour was aggressive and grew rapidly. If I had not spotted the lump when I did, things could have been very different for me. I did not ever do self-examinations. If I had, I would have discovered the lump in time to avoid a mastectomy. Of course a mastectomy is not the worst thing - much worse is the real possibility that the cancer may have spread to other areas - especially as it was so large.

What's happened with my family
There has been a huge impact on my family during this last couple of years. My daughters have had a terrible time - my ex-husband has been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's as well. My mum has spent a lot of the time almost distraught. It's awful to watch your own children suffer, and I truly believe she would have opted to have the cancer instead of me if she could, bless her. My sister, who lives in Italy, was flying back and forth like mad during my treatment.

I went on small holidays several times during the treatment to escape from thinking about cancer all the time, but every holiday I went on before the end of treatment was poignant - I truly believed that this would be the last time I would see these places.

Moving on
I have had plenty of times when I have laughed heartily through the treatment - it didn't rob me of my sense of humour. But, it did rob me of my happiness. It's hard to feel happy when you think you may die.

So now I am two years (almost) down the line and today I feel different from how I did at the point of diagnosis. My goalposts have moved. I am now waiting for a reconstruction operation (due 1 November), and this has become important to me - a far cry from when I felt they could take both breasts! I want to feel I can confidently start a new relationship, and this holds me back.

On a daily basis I have to admit that I do think about breast cancer, but I don't dwell on it much anymore. When I do dwell on it, I feel angry that my arrogant certainty that I would have a long life has been taken from me. I was keeping money in an investment for my retirement as I don't have much of a pension, and I was considering investing more each month into my pension plan to boost it?. Not anymore. I need that money now to enjoy my life as it is.

It feels like I can just glimpse a huge black cloud on the periphery of my vision, or a feeling that something bad is going to happen, not even something tangible? It just hovers slightly out of reach.

It's where I want it - I can't forget I have had breast cancer, nor do I want it in my face every day, but my life as it is now is structured differently than it would have been had I not had cancer. In the past I was able to deal with whatever life threw at me, and I had some very traumatic times. I haven't dwelt on them and never let them intrude in my life once they have passed, but with a breast cancer diagnosis it's not easy to do that. No-one can tell me it's truly gone, that it won't come back. So now I've started counselling to help me deal with the fact that there is now something bad in my life that I cannot put aside and forget.

Keeping my spirits up
Since I completed treatment mid-August 2004 I have been to France (driving 700 miles almost non-stop just two days after my last radiotherapy), Cornwall, Italy, Sweden, sailing around Elba (Italian island), Lake District on a canoeing/camping trip, and have just returned from America, where I spent time in the Florida Keys, Fort Lauderdale and Orlando. My next trip is planned after my reconstruction operation - Thailand in February.

So, yes life goes on, it's there to be lived and enjoyed. I don't think about the future so much anymore, and only plan for a maximum of six months ahead. It's how I deal with the uncertainty...

As of October 2005 Jackie is waiting for a reconstruction operation