Maria's Story

I was diagnosed with breast cancer in May 2007, at the age of 33. I must add it took a while to get to this point simply because my family GP refused to believe I had cancer because I was too young and had no family history. I really had to push her to give me a referral to see a breast surgeon. Looking back now, I am so grateful I went with my gut instinct.

Within days of seeing the surgeon, I had my first lot of surgery. This was to remove the lump I found in my right breast. I was later told the lump was around 1cm big, but was hard as a rock, which is not good. Within the next 4 weeks, I faced 2 more rounds of surgery, to remove more breast tissue and lymph nodes under my right arm

The initial shock of discovering I had breast cancer was a little too much to handle, particularly having to tell my family and friends. The hardest person to tell however was my oldest son, he was ten at the time. He cried with Mum for ages, but it was something we both needed to do.

Although it was hard, my breast care nurse Robyn was just amazing. She made herself available to me at anytime and really helped me along. She offered my numbers for support groups, a special pillow to tuck under my arm to sleep better and lots of kindness. What I really craved, however was the opportunity to chat to someone else young like myself with breast cancer, but no one was available.

My doctors recommended 4 rounds of chemo and 7 weeks of radiotherapy. They said that because I was young and healthy, they thought it best to "over treat me". On my first day of chemo, I broke out in a rash all over due to the anxiety, I was so scared. I recall an older lady telling me I "didn't belong" in the chemo ward because I looked too young! If only it was as simple as that!

As I got sicker and sicker with each round, the support from the mums and dads at my children's school was amazing. Flowers and cards were found at my doorstep most days, as was food and more food. It's hard talking to people when they really don't understand just how you are feeling. I also received my fair share of very inappropriate comments and stares, particularly going out with a bandana on my head and my kids in tow. On a good day, I craved getting out and feeling normal again, but the stares often kept me behind closed doors. My parents who took the news very hard also came around a lot to help me with cleaning, cooking and the kids.

After my treatment ended, I struggled with the Tamoxifen. It was causing me to bleed heavily, have hot flushes, mood swings, depression and constantly feeling unwell. I continued to work during this time, but found myself arriving at work only to turn around and head home again. My doctors offered me very little help in this department, so luckily my lovely breast care nurse stepped in and arranged a meeting with a menopause doctor for me. It's funny, I wasn't actually going through menopause, but I was having all the symptoms! One more trip to theatre and the insertion of a Mirena device has changed my life for the better!!

One of the hardest things about dealing with breast cancer is the fact that after treatment, you are basically left alone to fend for yourself. I remember asking my doctor for a scan to be certain the cancer was gone, but they just don't do that. Every six months, when I have a check up I make sure every bit of me is checked for piece of mind.

Today, I am 35 years old and doing fine. My body has finally settled and my strength returns each day. The tiredness I felt for such a long time was hard. My sons would often ask why mum was tired all the time. Getting off the couch some days, was just too much to handle.

Today, I can speak more openly (without crying) to my family and friends. I still get asked a lot to tell me story and help friends of friends or family who too have been dealing with breast cancer. Sometimes I wish that people could just understand that I don't want to be defined as the 'young lady who had breast cancer'. I want to be able to enjoy a day out without talking about it.

To those young women struggling to come to terms with it all, I can only offer you my love and support and tell you to hang in there. If you want to talk about it, then do so to anyone who will listen, or join The Warwick Foundations Mates In My Shoes program.