An estimated 27,700 women and 260 men are diagnosed with breast cancer every year in Canada.

August 2019 I was one of them, it was the start of the biggest challenge I have ever faced. I debated whether to share my story until a very dear friend, who I have immense respect for, suggested that my story may save lives, or at the very least will hopefully make women more aware and stronger advocates for their own care.

To show my support for all Canadians impacted by breast cancer, I am participating and fundraising for this year’s Canadian Cancer Society CIBC Run for the Cure on Sunday, October 6, 2024

Near the end of July 2019 I felt a lump in my left breast. Well, not a lump, a mass. A really big mass. Further investigation was recommended ASAP and after 2 weeks of trepidation, online research and self-diagnosis I was seen for a mammogram and ultrasound, feeling confident that I was just having an unusual inflammatory response related to another health issue. The scans suggested I had dense breast tissue, which had not previously been an issue. I wanted to be relieved but instead felt a nagging doubt, fortunately the decision was made to go ahead with a biopsy. The paperwork that accompanied the tissue samples stated “Low suspicion of malignancy.” The expected diagnosis was Granulomatous Mastitis. The actual diagnosis, Invasive Carcinoma with Lobular Features. All cores involved. Triple negative receptor status. The bottom line, it was cancer and it was bad.

If that biopsy had not happened, a very different story would follow. Triple Negative Breast Cancer is aggressive and fast growing. At the time of diagnosis I was at Stage 3.

The following weeks were full with lab tests, PET scan, MRI, X-Rays, ECG, made possible in part by the generosity of people donating to the Canadian Cancer Society.

September 18, 13 days after my 50th birthday, I began Chemotherapy. As expected it took it’s toll on my energy, strength and appearance. Losing my hair was difficult. First I got it cut to shoulder length before it started to fall out, then I started easing into wearing toques. On my husbands birthday in early October he shaved my head for me. How many husbands get to cut off their wife’s hair as a birthday gift?!

I had a reality check near the end of October. The weekend before Halloween was an opportunity to take our 8 year old daughter to a Trick or Treating event hosted by neighbourhood businesses. Nice day, feeling good. My daughter and I had our photo taken together and when I look at it now it amazes me that I looked so good for what was about to follow. I got tired more quickly than usual that day and by the time we were walking home I had chills and my temperature was rising rapidly. Blood work at a nearby hospital led to me being shuttled into a private room in the ER by masked and gowned nurses. My Neutrophils, the white blood cells responsible for fighting infection, were as low as they could go. My immune system was out of service and anybody who came near me had to be masked, gowned and gloved for my protection. IV and antibiotics were started and within a few hours I was admitted to a private room. It was a fever of unknown origin, no infection was found. The antibiotics kicked in quickly and it was determined that home was probably a safer place for me than in the hospital. It was an eye opener for me, realizing how quickly everything could change.

Issues with neutrophils dropping too low were ongoing, at the same time my hemoglobin was also dropping and I was becoming anaemic, which led to a blood transfusion. I have always held people who donate blood in the highest regard, now I am thankful on a personal level.

January brought a series of delays in Chemo, ultimately leading to the cancellation of remaining treatments. Minor swelling in my left ankle led to an ultrasound which revealed DVT-Deep Vein Thrombosis. The cancer and Chemo were causing blood clots, the highest one being behind my knee. I began blood thinners and I added yet another specialist to my team of Doctors. Let me take a moment to say that they are a powerhouse team of women who were nothing short of amazing through a really crappy ride.

Around the same time as the Coronavirus was rearing its ugly head I was meeting with my Oncologist, Hematologist, Radiation Oncologist, Surgeon and Plastic Surgeon. On March 3rd 2020 I was admitted to hospital for a mastectomy of my left breast, lymph node dissection and the first stages of reconstructive surgery, hoping that a blood clot would not work it’s way into my lungs. All went well and after one night in hospital I was discharged with enough time to walk…very slowly….to pick our daughter up from school.

COVID-19 continued its spread, reaching pandemic status, another layer of concern for already fragile health. I was seeing my plastic surgeon every 1-2 weeks, it was the strangest sensation driving through the vacant streets of downtown Vancouver with its boarded up windows and not a person in sight. A ghost town. Two days after Easter I began 3 weeks of daily Radiation treatments. I’m not going to lie, I looked forward to getting out of the house to lay in silence looking at the artificial fall foliage and blue sky that covered the fluorescent light in the radiation room. 

I began adjunctive Chemotheray 2 weeks after Radiation was completed. The treatment finish line was in sight. And I was scared.

Fighting cancer made me feel pro-active. Treatment meant there was always a next step, something I could do to slay the beast. Facing the unknown without the structure of treatment and the constant care and attention of an amazing number of people was terrifying. I felt like I should have been elated, the cancer was completely removed with the removal of my left breast. It was the slimmest of margins, but my muscle and chest wall were not affected. Two of the three lymph nodes removed showed micro metastasis but Radiation and adjunctive Chemo reduced the risk of metastasis. There is no ongoing hormonal therapy as Triple Negative cancer means that there is no hormonal involvement to control. Unfortunately Triple Negative breast cancer is aggressive, hence the rapid and extreme growth of the mass I had, and the risk of reoccurrence is highest in the first 5 years following treatment. 

The fight is not over with the end of treatment, there is an ongoing physical and mental battle. Like many others, I stand at the edge of the abyss not knowing what lays below. The Run for the Cure was my next step. A way for me to give back. A way to still be pro-active. A way to ensure people like me continue receiving the treatments that best suit their needs. 

Run for the Cure led me to my next step in healing, Abreast in a Boat. In the Hope Lounge I met Barb, who planted the seed to join the sport of Dragon Boating. I have been awed and motivated by the strength and determination of the Abreast in a boat ladies, their friendship and support has sheltered me through some rough times and given me the confidence to look at the days ahead in a different light.

With your help, I can reach my fundraising goal and make a life-changing difference for so many people. Every dollar I raise will fund groundbreaking breast cancer research and support programs and services for those impacted by this disease.
Please donate today. I believe better treatment options and survival outcomes are possible. Together, we can give Canadians impacted by breast cancer a reason to have hope. And we can help change the future for all.
Thank you! I appreciate your generous support.
P.S. Did you know? A $75 donation can fund a clinical trial for someone with breast cancer to test new treatments to save lives and give hope to countless others.