Am I going to survive?
That was my pressing question.
I’d just learned I had breast cancer. As I cradled a cup of tea in my hands I thought about my husband, three kids, and two jobs. I was also working on a master’s degree. So my diagnosis was overwhelming.
What would life be like?
What treatments could I have?
And again, would I make it through?
I wasn’t alone. Every year, nearly 4,000 women are diagnosed with some form of breast cancer here in Ireland.
But you never expect it will be you, do you?
And that’s why I’m writing to you today. Whether you’re worried for yourself or a loved one, I want you to know that at CUH you would have access to the best care.
But that care is only possible because the people who need our hospital – and the doctors who work there – have our support. CUH needs you today.
It all began when we’d just moved into our new house. We were all so excited! We’d been building that house for 3 years, eagerly waiting for move-in day.
And by way of a celebration, my husband had taken me to see Cher, who I adore.
I thought, “This is the best night of my life!”
A little worse for wear, we climbed into bed and kissed good night. Then I turned on my side.
That’s when he said, “Nette, what’s that? There’s a lump there.”
Now, “I thought, it’s probably just my period.” But I got up and checked myself.
That was a Saturday, so all day Sunday I was on the phone with a friend. I needed her to lean on. So there I was, sitting in the kitchen, holding onto my cup of tea, trying not to overreact. But on Monday morning I rang my GP.
And she took me right in. By 4:30, my GP had referred me to the breast specialist in Cork.
I was 37 years old. It was my birthday month.
It wasn’t the present I wanted, but it’s what I got.
I had a round of tests: mammogram, ultrasound, biopsies. And I remember during the ultrasound, the consultant doing the procedure was stone-faced, no smile, nothing. He was very nice, but he wasn’t going to give away anything at this point.
Then we waited for the results. It was 10 days waiting.
And then I heard: it was breast cancer. Thanks to my husband, we’d caught it early. But still, all I could think is, “This isn’t happening. Not to me. Not at 37.”
I remember it was the day of the Toy Show. And I remember looking at my two girls, excited for the big night.
I just kept crying. Would this be my last Toy Show? How much time did I have?
When you find yourself in the worst situation, when you feel like your life is at stake, that’s when you need to know you have the best people on your side, fighting for you, caring about you.
I’m so glad I had consultants Norma Relihan and Mark Corrigan to depend on. The medical and emotional care everyone showed me made a frightening experience so much easier to handle.
From surgeons and consultants to the lovely lady who brought tea around for us, Cork University Hospital cared for me beyond medicine.
That December, I had my first chemo treatment. Five months later, I had a mastectomy.
Good care and a great hospital are not things to take for granted. I know now how important they are. That’s why I’m asking you today – please support Cork University Hospital Charity.
They wheeled me into recovery and told me they’d gotten everything. I could breathe again. And then it was on to radiation and chemo. I asked how long for the chemo and was told 9 months.
I thought, “I can do nine months. Nine months is a pregnancy, so I’ll count this as I counted my pregnancies, count up to 20 and down to 40.”
After surgery, I wanted to help – if I could save just one person going through what I’d gone through, it would be worth it. So I agreed to take part in a trial. “Throw me down for it,” I said. And I did five years of it.
There’s always something we can do to care for each other, isn’t there?
A consultant on top of the latest developments and treatments…
Nurses who understand and go the extra mile to be caring…
Even the kind person who brings you a hot cup of tea, just when you need it most.
With all my thanks,
Antoinette
P.S. Later, I discovered that I carry the BRCA1 gene mutation. At the time of my diagnosis, genetic testing wasn’t available to patients like me with no family history of cancer.
After discussions with Prof. Corrigan, I decided to undergo a preventive mastectomy on my opposite breast. I’ll never forget the kindness of the nurse who held my hand as I was going to sleep before surgery. And I’d also love to thank the truly special woman with a big warm smile, who provided all of us waiting for radiotherapy with tea and scones, free of charge. That simple act of kindness meant so much during a difficult time.
