A breast cancer diagnosis can be a crushing blow. Source: Getty Images IT’S estimated more than 15,000 Australian women will be diagnosed with breast cancer this year, and one in eight women will experience breast cancer in their lifetime.
These are sobering statistics, but the stories behind them are filled with hope and inspiration.
CHRISTINE’S STORY
Sydney accountant turned animal attendant Christine Kamarados, 41, was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer in November 2013.
“When I found the lump, my GP said, ‘It’s probably just a cyst.’ The ultrasound showed a fibrous cyst, so I had a biopsy. I knew it wasn’t good news when the doctor called to say I needed to come in. When she said I might have breast cancer, I thought, ‘Life’s not going to be the same again.’ Driving home, one of my friends, Effie, drove up beside me; the next thing I knew, I was bawling my eyes out. I pulled over and she gave me a big hug.
At the hospital, they did a mammogram and core biopsy, and discovered I had triple negative breast cancer. When the breast surgeon confirmed it, Effie was with me and she started crying. I looked at her and joked, ‘She told me I have cancer. Not you!’ but of course I was in shock. A triple negative diagnosis is a freak of luck. Cancer isn’t picky — anyone can get it. My mum had hormonal breast cancer when she was 61; she had a mastectomy and radiotherapy and has been fine since. My father passed away from a brain tumour in 1987.
Two weeks after chemo started, my shoulder-length hair began falling out in clumps. I freaked out, because once your hair goes, people can tell there’s something wrong. My hairdresser friend gave me a tomboy cut, but it didn’t last long. Your scalp can get really itchy when your hair is falling out, so one of the vet nurses at work shaved it all off with a new pair of animal clippers. It’s growing back now, but slower at the front, and as my sister-in-law, Sara, pointed out, with the same pattern of baldness the men in my family have.
Chemotherapy causes ‘chemopause’, a temporary or permanent menopause that stuffs up your hormonal system so you experience hot flushes and insomnia. My cycle may not come back. Before I started treatment, the doctors asked how I would feel if I couldn’t get pregnant. My logic was: I’m 40 and single. If I haven’t started breeding yet, it’s probably not meant to happen. Saving my life is more important.
Unstoppable: Christine Kamarados (second from right) with friends Dani, Leone and Trevor. Source: Sunday Style Growing up, every woman has her own body issues, but one thing I’ve always loved is my breasts, so I was like, ‘Can’t you take some of my arse?’ The night before my lumpectomy, I took photos of them, said goodbye and thought, ‘It’s a means to an end.’
During the surgery, they cut off my nipples, removed the breast tissue underneath and sewed the nipples back on. The cancer was in my right breast, but they took tissue from the left to make them the same size and shape. The only scars I have are underneath my right arm, where they removed the lymph node. There’s feeling in the left breast but none in the right — it may never come back.
After three months of chemo, the lump disappeared. I was lucky because I didn’t feel as sick as I’d expected. My eyesight was a bit blurry and my eyes dry, and some of my nails lifted. My mum, brother Costa, Sara, employer and some friends have been amazing. Being with family and friends and talking about having cancer has helped. I got a cat, Princess Leia — my new hope.
The Cancer Council has been so helpful with information, and the Facebook support group Surrounded by Pink Sisters has been a lifeline. When you’re diagnosed, you don’t know what’s going to happen — whether the treatment is going to work — but you have to have hope
and as much normality as possible. People told me not to do certain things, but I’d rather do what I love as opposed to wrap myself in cotton wool and be miserable. During treatment, I still went to see bands and caught up with friends. I had to quit running and walked, instead, but while having chemo I ran the Mother’s Day Classic, which raises funds for breast-cancer research, with my running group, Pulse Performance. I was proud I did the 4km run in 26 minutes. I still love my work, and now I’m back full-time. Being around animals is great for the spirit. Cancer has changed me. I now know life’s short and I must do what I want and not let anything hold me back.”
PETE’S STORY
Pete Smith, 42, supported his wife Dominique, 39, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.
“Dom and I met in 1997 while working in the French Alps. I was struck by her positive outlook. Eighteen months later, I broke my back snowboarding. It was pretty traumatic, but she had great coping skills and nursed me for two months while I recovered at my parents’ home in Newcastle, England. We moved to Australia, married and had our son, Zach, now 9, and daughter, Aurelia, now 7. In 2010, Dom’s GP found a lump during a routine check. She had a lumpectomy followed by another procedure to remove more tissue. When the results came back, she had three choices: take even more tissue from the right breast, a mastectomy or a double mastectomy. Dom was totally gutted. Her friends came over and there were lots of tears. I was in shock. It was horrendous, but she was so proactive, straight on the phone to anyone with a connection to breast cancer. She decided to have a double mastectomy to greatly reduce the risk of cancer returning. Leaving her at the surgery door was awful, but the surgery went well. She spent two weeks convalescing. Family, friends and the school community pulled together, dropping around frozen meals and popping in. Then she had four sessions of chemo at three-week intervals.
New lease on life: Pete and Dominique Smith with their children, Zach and Aurelia. Source: Sunday Style When she had the double mastectomy, they put in temporary tissue expanders. We thought Dom was going to be some time without breasts, so that was good news in a bad situation. They were replaced with implants eight months later. Last June she had reconstruction surgery.
At the time, I didn’t think about the fact Dom’s breast cancer could lead to a terminal illness. It was just something we had to get through. We said to the kids,
‘Mummy’s gone for an operation.’ I coped by sticking to routine. We got on with everyday life and tried to stay consistent and strong. There were so many things to think about, such as getting the kids to school and going to work. It was emotionally, mentally and physically exhausting.
There’s great support out there, including the Cancer Council, who supplied information. When Dom was diagnosed, she was training for her first half marathon so, with her running team, we raised $37,000 through a fundraising website. The money went to the Breast Cancer Network Australia (bcna.org.au), who helped us through the surgery with information and also provided a breast-care nurse. Having something positive to focus on keeps you going, and for Dom, that was fundraising, then running the half marathon the year after her surgery. Dom was an event manager, but we decided it was time to win back some time with the family, so she recently became a personal trainer. Our breast-cancer journey is an unspoken bond between us. It’s something we experienced together and got through. Now we enjoy what we’ve got, never take it for granted and live our lives to the fullest.”
For more information about breast cancer, call the Cancer Council on 13 11 20 or visit pinkribbon.com.au.
Follow Annette on Twitter @AnnetteDasey
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