Me Promoting Breast Cancer Awareness Month
I've been in two minds about whether to write this blog post or not. After all, who am I to be writing about such serious content? I'm not a medical expert. It's not even a topic that fits within my niche, although arguably it is a lifestyle issue and therefore there is a link. I am a firm believer in 'if you've got something to say then say it' but there are boundaries. What is said needs to be kind, it needs to be factually accurate and, if possible, relevant. So here goes.
I had great fun doing the photo shoot to go with this post. How hard can it be to keep two pumpkins level? Did it matter that they were slightly different sizes? That the stems were not the same? For Instagram maybe, but for us women, certainly not. We know it is quite normal to have boobs that are different sizes, that do not appear to be the same, that point in different directions and to be frank, droop. So maybe I'm just depicting reality, although I can safely say it's not often they're orange, unless perhaps we're in a daring bikini top.
Many of you may know that I am 50 this year. In fact this very week. Two days time from writing this. It's a big birthday and one that will be celebrated well, please be assured of that. I have been thinking about what I would like to do for some time and how I would like to mark the occasion. Opting for a series of smaller events with close friends and family so I could really enjoy people's company. I was not expecting any invitations outside my carefully laid plans. So it was unexpected when I received, a few weeks ago, my invitation to the NHS breast screening programme. Nonetheless, I made my appointment almost on autopilot - none of us are taking our health or our health service for granted with this pandemic right?
I attended my appointment this morning. It was a very slick operation. The whole thing took a matter of minutes. The radiographer was incredibly helpful, explaining carefully what she was going to be doing, taking care to put me at ease and to check she had the information needed in the X-rays taken. I await my results in about three weeks time. So far I am lucky.
However, one in eight women will have breast cancer during their lifetime and the risk increases in the over 50s and post menopausal women significantly. Early detection is important and we should all be very breast aware.
TOUCH your breasts
LOOK for changes
CHECK any changes with your GP
There are a relatively small number of cases whereby breast cancer risk increases due to familial links. This is not thought to be the case in our family. My Mum was diagnosed with breast cancer when she was in her late fifties or maybe sixty. I was a teenager at the time. I remember the afternoon I became aware. She was cutting the bread for tea and mentioned, almost casually it seemed, that she had found a lump in her breast. She asked if I would check for her, was there something there? I can remember feeling a very small lump under the surface of the skin, perhaps like a large hard grain of rice or small dried pea. Things seemed to happen quickly after that. I can't remember the time scales exactly. She was taken in for a biopsy and the cancer diagnosed. At that age, my only experience of cancer had been my best friend's Mum who had been diagnosed with late stage bowel cancer a couple of years before. Unfortunately, she died within a year of her diagnosis leaving her family of four children to carry on. That being said, I am not sure that I associated my Mum's diagnosis with what happened to my friend's Mum. I am not sure I allowed myself to think through the possibilities - something we perfect with age perhaps, the ability to overthink and not live in the moment.
My Mum was told she had done well to find the cancer early; it was thought to be treatable. Her treatment plan involved an operation to remove the lump and any surrounding tissue and lymph nodes that might be a problem. It soon became apparent that this would involve a mastectomy of her right breast. I could not imagine what this was going to be like; I could not empathise enough at the age to put myself in my Mum's position. This period of time was a blur, I compartmentalised and carried on going to sixth form and applying for university. In hindsight, I know that my Mum was scared, I remember her talking about it on the phone to the family often. She would often talk when she was nervous. She shared the details, using words and language that was never used in our home. We would not talk about nipples or even breasts to be honest. I was a 1980s teenager with parents who were married in 1950. The vocabulary was not a comfortable fit for my Mum, but here she was facing something that she didn't really have words to describe.
I don't remember the operation day. I presume I was at school. I do remember visiting soon after the operation. It was the first time that I had seen one of my parents in genuine pain. The impermanence of life became all to apparent as I entered that room and saw my Mum. Her face was grey. But the operation had gone well and was considered a success. She had several drains attached and it was these causing the discomfort. Mum bravely and matter-of-factly showed what the operation had achieved and the scar. I remember being so shocked at how much flesh had been removed, although I tried not to show this. I had not previously considered how much of the breast is in fact under our arms, reaching almost right around the body. All this tissue had gone. The breast area was flat, almost concave.
My Mum chose not to have reconstructive surgery. I am not sure why. I didn't feel it was my place to have that conversation with her. I remember her bravely going for her appointments to have a prosthetic breast measured and the little pouches to contain it fitted to her underwear. I remember many shopping trips in the years to come where we would suggest a top, a swim suit or blouse and Mum would politely decline it - 'I don't think so'. Mum made a full recovery. She was deemed not to require further medicinal treatments and was spared chemotherapy or radiotherapy. Her lymph nodes had been clear. Mum managed her breast prosthesis for another twenty years until she succumbed once more to cancer. We never talked about how she felt about having breast cancer, difficult feelings were not something that were openly talked about. But, there was no lack of love and I hope that she felt supported. Looking back I am astounded by her bravery.
There are many myths associated with the contraction of breast cancer. One that has come to my attention in my friendship group of late is that being hit in the breast can cause breast cancer. This is simply not true. Hard scar tissue may result after being hit but not any additional risk of cancer. We would do well to think about the myths we may hear or even pedal ourselves. If we are unsure we should ask. What we perceive to be the truth may not be and it is easy to fact check. We all have a responsibility to do so. Pedalling misinformation however well meaning, could put someone at risk.
I am at no greater risk of breast cancer due to my Mum's experience but like everyone I can try to mitigate my own risk. I have recently been on a healthy eating push to try to reduce my body weight to a safer, healthier level. I try to increase my activity levels daily; I can always do more in this direction if I'm honest and it's something we should all be working towards. I have reduced my alcohol intake as I've got older, for more reasons than just my health! Fortunately, I am not, and never have been a smoker. Perhaps most important though, is to keep ourselves informed and to keep checking ourselves regularly. It was the early diagnosis that gave me my Mum for an extra wonderful twenty years.
For support with breast cancer contact:
For further information on breast screening try:
To support breast cancer awareness month try:
For more information regarding breast cancer and how to conduct a self examination: