Breast cancer – Page 3 – The BooBee Journey

Next tick box

I have had three days to process the next step in my journey. I said the other day, I was shell shocked. That wasn’t quite right, I know enough about this stuff to know chemotherapy was always going to be on the cards. It wasn’t a complete surprise or bolt from the blue.

What I actually was, was deeply disappointed (thanks Dad for giving me the right word) and scared. I was disappointed that I was going to have to walk an unknown road, the road on which I have vast knowledge gaps. And what I don’t understand and am not in control of, makes me scared…….

I don’t know how the drugs will make me feel, I don’t know what will happen to my hair, I don’t know how my children will feel with a mother that will outwardly look sick and I don’t know how I’ll cope with looking and feeling sick. I am not good at sitting still.

But then I reminded myself, I have chosen to undertake chemotherapy because it will give me the best chance of never seeing this thing ever again and living a long and fulfilling life. I also reminded myself, there are plenty of people out there (that I know even) that have done this before as well as plenty that can help me negotiate it.

On Wednesday, I started the day by crying on a friend’s shoulder. Then, I got on with it. I read all of the information from my oncologist, I got on the phone and I started calling for help. I spoke to a McGrath nurse I know through work. After her initial surprise, she was straight onto helping to fill my knowledge gaps. She emailed information specific to my questions and referred me onto Breast Cancer Care WA for counselling support.

I made it my mission to understand as much as I could. A close and very special friend visited and insisted she would be my chemo buddy. This was a great comfort and another thing I don’t need to worry or think about. Others sent messages of support and reminders of how strong I am. I read every one and then I got my big girl pants on and started to flex those ‘strong’ muscles.

Thursday was all about my hair. I still haven’t made a decision about what I will do, but I researched cold cap therapy, debriefed with a friend and called my hairdresser. I talked to my children about what they would feel comfortable with, and I started ordering headwear.

So, that is where I am at….. my knowledge is improving and I am working towards just ticking that next box.

Oh ………………. and I am on a macrame mission.

Asking for and accepting help

This is a continuation of my last blog post https://theboobee.blog/2025/02/19/to-tell-or-not-to-tell/. What happens once people know…..

I have never been very good at accepting help. I never, never ask anyone for help, because in my mind it is a sign of weakness. To me, it means I am not capable of sorting myself out. I would rather ‘bust a gut’, ‘run around like a headless chicken’ and almost systematically feed my anxiety, just to prove I can do it all.

But the situation I now find myself in, has made me look back and realise how silly that all sounds. Who was I trying to prove myself to??

The answer of course is……………. me. No one else ever put that pressure on me or expected me to do everything…………… except perhaps my children. But, that is purely because I created that kind of environment and those expectations at home. I did so much for them, that it became an expectation.

In this modern world, everyone is busy and caught up in their own stuff. None of us are immune. Sometimes we completely loose sight of those around us and what they can do for us, but also what we can do for them. We are afraid to put burdens on each other because we are barely coping with our own shit, without taking on someone else’s.

But when something like the big C comes along, somehow an army of people around me, created space in their lives to help. From meals and baking that arrived on my doorstep, to the crafts and activities, to the friend who sat and crafted with me, to those that drove me places, to those that made sure my children were doing ok, to medical advice and supplies, to today’s homegrown vegetable delivery and weeks of beautiful messages of support.

I didn’t ask for any of it, but I certainly appreciated every single bit of it. And for the first time I was able to accept it all without feeling terrible about troubling people. It’s because I felt like a had a valid excuse to accept it! (So silly) But what I noticed, was how much they were getting out of it too. Not only was it helping me, it was helping them to feel useful and needed.

It is proven that volunteering is one of the most healthy things you can do for yourself. It offers a sense of fulfilment, breaks your daily routine and offers new relationships. The whole crux of being needed as a volunteer is that someone asked for help in the first place. Nothing to be ashamed of, but something to be celebrated. It shows bravery, self awareness and a healthy knowledge of boundaries and capabilities.

So, one of the many things I am learning on this is journey, is that it is okay to admit you need help, to accept the help of friends and family as well as strangers. You never know what beautiful relationships may develop.

I received a message of well wishes the other day from a lady whose dog my daughter and I walked for 2 years when she was not able. We developed a special relationship that I had almost forgotten about because I was too ‘busy’. Her circumstances changed and we rarely see her. Having heard my news, she sent messages of love and support.

It reminded me that, although it is impossible to keep every relationship alive and current, we can always send our love when needed, and whatever little thing we can do to help, will be appreciated. And, above all……… when you need it……….. never be afraid to ask for help.

P.S Let’s see if I can heed my own advice!

To tell or not to tell?

Sorry……. probably tears again.

When these kinds of diagnoses occur, the person involved has to make so many choices. Not the least of which, is who to tell and when. This is very individual, and something that may change along the way. Your wants and needs ebb and flow.

For me, the first big hurdle was whether to tell the family at Christmas. Our children knew about my appointments and asked how it went. We are a very open family and I could not lie, so they knew things weren’t good the evening of the 23rd.

A close friend who always shares Christmas Eve with us, knew the minute she walked in the door something was up. She didn’t ask, but after a few drinks I shared my news. We had a cry. It was still so raw, yet I took comfort in knowing she was behind me and ready to assist.

On Christmas Day, we always start with a swim in the shark net. My husband went alone. I was not allowed to swim following the biopsy and I had barely slept. I decided to reserve my energy for the family. I knew it would be a tough day.

Our swimming friends were surprised not to see me. My husband told them why, naturally they were shocked but they were there for him, something I am very grateful for. My first messages of support started rolling in.

I decided I would conceal my news from the family. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s day. But, like my friend, Mum new something was up. We had gathered for brunch and I just couldn’t face the pile of food in front of me. She asked if I was sick………….. I said……… I think so…….. and it all came out.

When I think about it, it was actually the best time to tell them. At least we were all there to support one another, Christmas is the only time of the year this happens. I opened a bottle of bubbles and Mum and I drank our sorrows away. While everyone else fussed around, sorting food, offering support and explaining things to the kids. We had each other.

It made me realise, that getting it out in the open was going to help me immensely. I needed to feed off the support of others. I found it very difficult to talk about, but a few days after Christmas I started messaging my friends and colleagues. I will be forever grateful that I did. Although I didn’t feel strong enough to see them, the messages of support gave me so much strength.

In my previous blog https://theboobee.blog/2025/01/31/finding-strength/, I talked of how my knowledge gave me the ability to be strong. True, but it was my friends and family that made it a reality. In the wee hours, when I lay awake thinking about what was next, I reread those messages of support over and over. I drew strength from them and I knew I could go forward and beat this thing.

As you all know, I have now opened my circle even wider and I am considering ways to make it wider still. As I said at the start, it is a very individual choice as to when you let people in. When you, and only you (as the person going through this) feels the time is right. For many, the battle may remain a secret for a long time or maybe even forever. That is your choice.

For me, letting people in gave me tremendous comfort. Not only that, it gave me the bravery and brawn to put it all out there, to be raw and honest. And this appealed to one of my biggest moral values, to help others (it’s why I do my job, why I take on so much). But you all made me feel that maybe I have a role to play. Sharing my story and my knowledge could help others in more ways than one.

It’s not just about breast cancer. It’s about sharing your problems, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and allowing people who care about you to shoulder some of the burden. I have learnt a great deal about human nature in the last few weeks. I am not alone in wanting to help others, it is a very common and noble trait. We just have to allow people to actually do it, to say yes when they offer support and remember that it actually helps both parties.

A x

Finding the lump

I’m going to step back a bit and tell you how I found my nasty little cancer. Being in the industry it would be remiss of me not to….

I have had biannual mammograms since I was 40. I always practiced what I preached. But, prior to that, my breasts were troublesome. The first biopsy I had was back when I was at university, we were studying mammography and I found a lump. I had an ultrasound and a fine needle aspiration (FNA). It showed nothing abnormal, but the lump remained.

After having my first child and while breast feeding, I found another lump. Ultrasounds and another FNA identified a blocked duct. Phew. For a decade or so my breasts behaved.

Then, in my late 30s I had a third ultrasound. I can’t remember if I found another lump or if the doctor just sent me for an ultrasound because they were lumpy. This ultrasound was interesting.

Machines and resolution had improved so much and the sonographer was able to determine that the first lump (from back at uni) was a lymph node sitting in my breast. A slightly unusual place for a node but nothing to worry about and finally an explanation for my lump. She also found cysts, and lots of them.

Once I started having mammograms my report always said that I had dense breasts. It recommended I see the GP who, given my history, routinely sent me for an ultrasound. Several times, this lead to more biopsies of complex cysts.

In the industry we would say that I had ‘busy’ breasts. I was every sonographer’s worst nightmare, locating, comparing and documenting multiple cysts is never fun.

18 months ago I had my mammogram as normal, followed by an ultrasound. Everything seemed stable and no biopsy was needed. They were their usual ‘busy’ selves.

Given the nature of my breasts, I always found self examination difficult. My breasts were full of lumps and bumps. But, on a regular basis I tried my best. In November 2024, I felt something unusual. It was much harder than the rest of my tissue, sitting deep to the inferior aspect of my nipple, about the size of a small grape.

For a few weeks I continued to feel it. Then I scanned myself (ultrasound). What I saw was not an obvious cancer but an unusual area, in fact I had never seen anything like it. Still I waited. I scanned myself again. No change.

I went to the GP who agreed she could feel something. She referred me for a ‘proper’ ultrasound and told me it was time to step out from being an imaging professional and into the patient role. Gulp.

I was super busy with work, finishing a tafe course, and general family life. It took me a little while to co-ordinate a time with my colleague (she offered to stay back late, come in early, work through lunch whatever it took…… but I was busy). Finally I got there, 2 days before Christmas. My colleagues were amazing, I went from ultrasound to contrast mammogram to biopsy in one afternoon. By the end of the day, I knew. I didn’t have pathology results, but I knew.

If you’ve been reading my blogs you’ll know the torment of the waiting over Christmas and all I could think was…….. Amber, you could have done this weeks ago but you were too ‘busy’.

I know many women find themselves in this situation, putting themselves last on their list of priorities. I don’t know how we change, but this has been an illustration of why we shouldn’t do it. It’s also an illustration of the value in knowing your own body and using all of the resources out there to detect cancer early.

I got it early, but I will always think, I could have got it earlier if I, and my breasts weren’t so dam ‘busy’.

Glossary:

Cyst – fluid filled pocket. Benign, very common, particularly around peri-menopause.

Dense breasts – breasts that have a higher percentage of fibro-glandular breast tissue compared to fat. This type of breast is normal and relatively common, but it does increase the risk of breast cancer. It also makes mammograms more difficult to read. But, this does not mean mammograms are not valuable with this type of breast, they most certainly are. Some cancers can only ever be detected on mammograms.

For more information on dense breasts click here:

https://www.breastscreen.health.wa.gov.au/Breast-screening/Dense-breasts

Results (yay) and more waiting

My results are in this blog. Sorry it’s a bit long winded. I’m building suspense 🤣

Throughout any cancer journey there is a lot of waiting. Waiting for initial diagnostic imaging, waiting for biopsies or tests, waiting for results, waiting to see a specialist, waiting for a surgery date, waiting for more results, waiting for what’s next.

In my work, patients have always said to me that the waiting is the worst part and I have to agree. And I was lucky. Being in the industry, there were some strings pulled and I was squeezed in at the diagnostic level and I jagged a cancellation with the surgeon for my initial consultation.

The absolute hardest part of my journey so far, was being diagnosed over the Christmas period. The GP was closed. The surgeon was closed. The breast care nurses….closed. There was no one to talk to. My brain went wild. My knowledge became both an advantage and a disadvantage.

By the end of the ten day period, I had made decisions on what I wanted to do in terms of surgery, but my mind had also conjured the absolute worst case scenario. I hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, had lost weight and generally lost condition. Not a good way to start a battle against cancer.

I am the type of person who has to have a plan. If I am moving forward ticking things off, I’m okay. There was no plan. The only thing I could think to do was to swim……. every day. My friends rallied to keep me company. All the while, I was thinking about our holiday on the 9th of January….. cancel or not cancel?!

Once the GP opened (2nd Jan), I got a referral to the surgeon, got some sleeping pills and had a good cry with a professional. Tick, I had done something.

Then I waited another four days for the surgeon’s offices to open (6th Jan). They opened three days before our holiday (9th Jan). As I said earlier, I was lucky enough to get a cancellation, we saw her 17 hours before we flew out!

We decided to start hormone blockers, go on holiday and book the surgery for as soon as we returned. The hormone blockers were the key in my mind, I was doing something towards my treatment, moving forward.

We had a great holiday and I will be forever grateful we took the time. It allowed us as a family, firstly to set it aside and have some fun and then as it came closer, time to prepare ourselves for what was ahead. I ate and I slept in the first week, the second week was harder.

Then I came home with Influenza B!! No one else got sick, just me. Not really surprising considering I was in poor condition. It made for a challenging surgery, a grumpy anaesthetist and a tough recovery. But, I got through it.

In a way, the difficult recovery was good, it took my mind off the pathology results. I had to focus completely on getting well, my asthma was bad and I had wounds to heal. I had things to work on to move forward, and working on that, got me almost the whole way until results day.

Almost.

The last two days were tough, my mind was going over all of the possibilities. Thank you to those who provided distractions.

Yesterday, we drove to Perth. I did not stop talking the entire way, poor husband. But, it was a good indication my chest had recovered and the only way I knew to stop me thinking about what was coming.

The results were good! The lymph nodes are clear, all margins are clear, the lesion was a little bit smaller than expected, the nasty little bugger is gone! No radiotherapy. Then she said…… but I would like you to see an oncologist just to get their opinion. The cancer was invasive, therefore, ‘preventative’ chemotherapy still isn’t off the table and we need their opinion on long term hormonal therapy.

So, fantastic news, I am so relieved and it is all very positive. But, a small part of me thinks….. great, here I am back to waiting. The referral is sent, so fingers crossed it isn’t too long until I see someone. Hopefully I don’t need it, but chemotherapy was always a scary thought to me because it is something I know little about.

In the meantime, I am back to my activity table and healing, the wounds have a way to go yet. My daughter and I are having a 1000 piece puzzle race. She’s good, and she also has techniques to distract me from my puzzle in order to get the upper hand. I think I might have selected the easier puzzle though, so we’ll see…

Missing out – Jetty swim 2025

Warning: This one is a tear jerker….

One of my biggest fears after diagnosis was what I might miss out on this year. Would it effect holiday plans, events with the kids and swimming? An early realisation was ………I would have to miss the 2025 Busselton Jetty Swim. It would be the first time in 15 years I wasn’t out there.

This was particularly devastating for me. It is an event that I am so passionate about. Over the years I have done many solo swims (3.6km) but I have also swum it in duos and teams. These were because I wanted to share this beautiful event with those I love and the kids I coached.

In recent years, I had done the mile, once escorting a beautiful friend and last year because I missed out on a solo entry. Incidentally, that turned out to be one of my most competitive swims, finishing 4th in the old lady’s division!

It never mattered to me which way I was swimming it as long as I was in there. I’ve watched the men and women in their 70s and 80s, blind and disabled. Families, friends and couples achieve their goals. And then there are the people that have overcome huge challenges just to be there. It is so inspiring. The swim’s tagline is ‘everybody’s swim’ and that’s exactly what it is.

Yesterday was the day. I planned to sit at home and have a nice breakfast and look forward to 2026. But a part of me knew there would be an awful lot of ‘poor me’ going on in my brain.

But then my army stepped forward….

The people I had encouraged and hopefully inspired along the way, stood up and did it for me (of course they had their own reasons but I know they were thinking of me). From our friends that meet us for early morning swims in the shark net, to the friend I meet weekly at Yallingup lagoon, to kids I’ve coached, to my friend who had been building her way up to a full solo and overcoming injury……. to my beautiful and courageous son.

They did it for themselves and me.…… and the conditions were horrendous.

For my boy, it was a last minute decision. He hadn’t trained, an ex competitive swimmer who had lost the love. A spot came up and being a lifeguard at the pool, he had listened to the swim coach’s preparations and tips for his squad and he thought…… I can do that.

As a parent, there are many proud moments but I’m not sure anything will top this one for me. It hurt him like hell and as I say the conditions were crap, but he kept going.

His one request was that I was at the finish line. It was a bit of an effort, but of course I got there and this was my reward…

It turns out the 2025 (30th Busselton jetty swim) will be one of the most memorable. As a wise person in my family said ‘I could not have handed the baton to a more reliable person’

And the challenge is set….

He told me last night, he’s training for the solo next year and he’s going to beat me.

Bring it on!!

Home coming

I knew this would be a roller coaster and we all know I was pretty high when I left hospital. Still slightly high on drugs but mainly on adrenaline and dopamine.

It lasted two days at home before the crash. My breathing wasn’t improving and my anxiety was rising. Why wasn’t I getting better? I had my family, my friends, my cat and my bed. Surely I should have been improving.

I dialed a friend. Someone I trust and someone with the knowledge to explain what what was going on. She told me to cut back on the visitors, stop the stimulants (tea, coffee etc), take something to help me sleep but above all, to stay as calm as possible and rest.

And advice from my husband ……………. to stop talking!

Those who know me, know that this would be the biggest challenge yet………. I do not sit still, my Nana called me ‘chitter chat the magpie’ for a reason.

I’ll admit, it may have taken a little pill to do so, but I have heeded the advice and four days down the track I am so much better. My breathing has improved, my brain has settled and the wounds are healing.

I have found a place of peace and stillness in watching Netflix, working on a puzzle and cleaning out and organizing my jewellery box. That sounds like I have a lot of jewels…….. but no, just a few tangled necklaces and bracelets (actually, I do have a lot of earrings).

I have an activity table with puzzles, painting, books, sudoku and the macrame is out! All quiet activities. I am starving and eating the food deliveries with relish. A very positive sign.

So, I am getting there. I may not be seeing many of my friends but I can feel you all right behind me.

A x

Keeping it real (part 3)

4:20am clunk. The last cog just turned.

I do not need to talk so much ever again ✅

I do not need to explain everything I’m thinking to every person that crosses my path.

I can write it down and whoever wants to listen can read it.

I can now rest my tongue and listen to the world around me. The beautiful place where the birds sing and the waves crash.

Last little tears.

And breathe.

Now I truly heal.

And I promise, this morning there are no drugs.

Keeping it real (part 2)

Disclaimer: Still hold your stitches and perhaps, make sure no one is driving a car!

It’s the middle of the night again and I realised there is more to that recent blog. I’ve also realised 2-3am is when I write best. Although several have said since reading part 1, my best writing is on drugs. Well sorry about that but I’m not sure where or how I will ever get that concoction again and I’m not sure I should!!!!!

So at this time of the day/night I often have a cry. I now realise, this is not new to hospital, it must just be emotional o’clock for me. I have also said to Andy frequently in recent years, why am I so serious all the time. How do I become more lighthearted and relaxed like you? He has said, you just have to be able to laugh at yourself.

Well, the nurse just popped her head in to see if I am ok because she heard me coughing. I was coughing because tonight I cannot stop laughing……. at myself and my drug fuelled Amber version 2.0.

What an idiot.

Mum did say a couple of days ago (not sure when, I’ve lost all sense of time) “Amber, I’m worried because I love version 1 Amber”.

Well, don’t worry Mum, you were right, that version 2.0 thing was a whole lot of bullshit. OG Amber was pretty good, she just needed a few small adjustments.

So….. I can now laugh at myself ✅ I can identify my trauma ✅ I can get help to face that trauma ✅ (notice I say get help, yesterday I believed I was a psychologist and could easily fix myself!!!) Oh, and I can beat breast cancer ✅

As far as rubbish I have sent or spoken. Not everyone has read the part one blog yet, but judging by the comments coming back, it was really only family and a couple of close friends that received or heard some abnormal data. Perhaps as a friend suggested, my worry about seeing a message I don’t remember, was just some drug amnesia happening.

But……. My daughter is the one who received the all time best comment. I told her, I was going to ‘rise from the ashes like a Phoenix’ 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Being an avid fantasy reader and Harry Potter enthusiast, I knew this would appeal to her (at least I had that part right). But the funny part is…….. I was so smug about my comment. I mentioned it to my husband several times. I thought it was the best comment ever and I’m ashamed to say, this was yesterday, not day 1,2,3. I should have been seeing clearer.

Her response was…. “Wow very inspirational” and my husband simply said…….. “I haven’t seen you burst into flames Amber”. It was good and it was relevant, but I did worry her. She thought I had gone to cloud cuckoo land!

This is where I now realise, my husband is fine. He always is. He must have watched the last 6 days and listened to some of the comments and thought……… yep…….. she’s on drugs.

Incidentally, I do need to get out of here now. For my medical friends…. yesterday afternoon I managed to self diagnosis myself using my ‘ultrasound vision’ with a seroma, a DVT and superficial thrombophlebitis.

Get me out.

Keeping it real

Be warned, this one will be funny and there will be swear words. If you happen to have stitches anywhere at the moment, hold on to them so as not to split them.

What the actual fuck??!!!

Please tell me you all know I’m on drugs right?!!

As the clouds lift, it has just occurred to me how much garbage I have been spilling, both verbally and written. I scrolled back on one group chat and saw a message I have no recollection of sending. It wasn’t a bad one but enough for me to wonder what I have been writing and saying.

As far as the blogs go, they make sense and I standby what I have written. The last one in particular, has drawn a lot of comments and was absolutely a break through. I only got one thing wrong. I didn’t need to get breast cancer or have an asthma attack to find my trauma…….. I needed to get high!!! Drugged to oblivion.

So tonight I am here to say, if you got a very strange message from me at any point, please please ignore it or at least put it in perspective. Or if I chewed your ear off with a tidal wave of me explaining my new insights, the me who seemed to know and understand everything about myself………. Perspective.

I am no superhero with super healing powers. Even until 3pm today I thought I was. But alas, I am a normal woman who received a shitty diagnosis and is trying to make the best of her situation.

My positivity hasn’t changed with this latest revelation and I will still kick this thing to the kerb but I have been behaving like a dementia patient that has the odd moment of clarity. You never know which bit is real!!!

Believe the blogs. I’m not sure about the rest, if it helps you to believe it, then be my guest. If nothing else, I can write. Maybe it was all spot on… I don’t know. I’m just not quite as amazing as you all think.

But hell….. those drugs are.

Next time (of course there won’t be a next time), Andy please take my phone away until at least day 4. And Andy, what you have sat through….. you deserve a medal. I suspect you are the only one who knew quite how high I actually was.

Again, everyone I’m sorry.