While I was on holiday in Florida January 2009 I began to get a dull ache down my right arm and my right side.
My first thought was I had perhaps pulled a muscle while swimming at one of the water parks.
We returned home Britain a week later and I went back to work at the hospital where I was employed as a Ward Clerical Officer.
A few weeks later I was lying in bed with my right arm above my head and for some reason I touched one of my boobs.
I felt a hard lump which created a dull pain down my right arm and side when I pressed it.
The alarm bells did not ring at that time as I had had a mammogram two years previously and been given the all clear.
I thought it was probably being caused by the under wires in my bras so I stopped wearing that type of bra for several weeks.
But by the end of February the situation hadn’t improved and I decided to have it checked by my GP.
My woman GP gave me an examination and assured me there was nothing to worry about and the fact that I had pain was almost a guarantee that it was nothing to be concerned about.
But I was referred for a routine mammogram anyway.
Luckily the ward I worked on was literally on the opposite side of the corridor to the Ultrasound Dept, so when my appointment arrived I was able to just pop out of work for it.
After the mammogram I was asked to return to the Rapid Result Clinic the following evening.
The next day I arrived at the clinic and was called in to see the breast consultant who told me my mammogram was clear but decided to examine me out of curiosity due to the pain I was experiencing.
Again I heard those words that the pain was a good sign and was not a symptom of breast cancer.
After examining my breast the consultant decided that he would perform a ‘fine needle aspiration’ because of his concerns about the pain and asked me to return to the clinic in 30 minutes for the result.
I did so and he told me the result was ‘abnormal’ and that he would have to perform a biopsy then return to the clinic the following week, the day before my daughter Amber’s 13th birthday.
I arrived back at the clinic on April 2nd, a date that will be etched in my memory for the rest of my life, with my friend Shirley.
She and everyone else were so confident that my lump was going to be either fatty tissue or a cyst, but I knew deep inside that it was something sinister.
My name was called and as we followed the nurse to the consultants room.
I recognised the woman standing to the left of me to be the breast nurse who I had seen on numerous occasions on the oncology ward during my training.
I sat down and braced myself for what I was about to be told. Then I heard those dreaded words from the consultant, ‘I’m sorry but the biopsy has shown that you have a malignant tumour.’
I don’t know what happened in the next few minutes but I know I was blinded by tears, the first of many to come. I looked over to my friend who was absolutely distraught and I thought ‘I should never have put her through this ordeal’ because I already knew it was going to be bad news.
The consultant told me this type of malignancy was called an ‘occult lesion’ which means ‘hidden.’ This was the reason it had not shown up on the mammogram.
He then went on to tell me that I would have to have an MRI to determine the location and size of the tumour and an ultrasound scan to check my lymph nodes for disease.
On the way home Shirely had gone through my mobile phone and had told Billy, my partner, and my sister, the news.
When I got home Billy had already left work and was waiting for me. I felt so sick, and once again the tears began.
I then had the heartbreaking task of informing my daughter, Amber, my dad, who had lost his wife (my mother) to cancer at the very early age of 46.
Billy’s mum was devastated as was everyone from neighbours to work colleagues, friends and acquaintances.
Amber was taking it very bad, then she finally broke down into sobs. I then realised what a massive load I had put onto her young shoulders.
The big story in the national news at the time was the death of Jade Goodey, and this is what was troubling Amber.
I spoke to my sister, and she told me a way I could explain it to Amber that she would understand. So I sat Amber down and I explained the type of cancer that I had was not the same as that of Jade Goodey, but was the same as Kylie Minogue, who was still dancing and singing as good as ever, but she had to have treatment to get back to good health.
This was an explanation that Amber understood and so I was able to lift some of the worry and anxiety from her.
I attended my MRI and ultrasound appointments, my sister coming with me. The results showed there was no disease in my lymph nodes. A last some good news, we were elated.
The MRI scan had shown I had a tumour of approximately one cm in my right breast. This was encouraging news because this meant it was in very early stages.
I was informed I would have a lumpectomy and node sampling on my right breast and a wire guided excision biopsy on my left breast.
The day arrived for surgery and I was discharged the following day. I thought I would never be able to use my right arm again, the pain was terrible.
But I was assured by the physiotherapist this would improve with exercise. My dad and step mom picked me up from the hospital (they had came from their home in North Wales) and were going to be looking after me at home to allow Billy to remain at work, No work no money no mortgage etc.
Eventually Billy and I were given the devastating news that I had Extensive Pleomorphic Lobular Carcinoma and the tumour was in fact six cm, five times bigger than the MRI had shown.
It had gone from being a grade one to a grade three cancer.
My left breast had also shown abnormal type cells which indicated I would at some point get cancer in my left breast also.
I was given the option of having a bi-lateral mastectomy with immediate reconstruction and told to take some time to think about it.
I now felt as though my whole world was about to collapse. It was as if I was looking through a window for I could see the consultant’s mouth moving but I couldn’t hear any words.
Suddenly I snapped out of it and I heard him say he was arranging for me to see the oncologist and a plastic surgeon to discuss my options.
My treatment was set out. I would have pre surgery chemo every three weeks over a period of 28 weeks.
I went home and cried yet again, but then I thought crying is not going to get me better and was certainly not making me feel any better. So time to meet it head on.
I was to have 28 weeks of chemo crammed into 18 weeks, a very harsh regime. I was told I would be sick and lose my hair.
At times during the chemotherapy I was ready to throw in the towel.
I didn’t want to feel this sick in order to get better. I felt I wanted to take my chance with the cancer and never step foot onto the chemo ward again.
I phoned my sister and told her I wasn’t going back. She told me I would be having my next chemo session even if she had to bodily drag me there and physically sit on me.
She said it was the ONLY way I would survive this body invasion. She added that I was being selfish and only thinking of myself. Instead, I should be thinking of all the people in my life that need me, Amber & Billy mostly.
On the 26th October at a consultation with the plastic surgeon we decided the best option for me was the Latissimus Dorsi also known as the ‘back flap.’ This was how my breasts would be reconstructed and a date was set for surgery.
Shortly before the operation the surgeon said to me: ‘Let’s finish the job Tracey and get you back to good health.’
The plastic surgeon came next to give some words of encouragement and a few body drawings, then I was whipped away by the anaesthetist.
I woke that evening, some 12hrs later. I was expecting to be writhing in pain, but I felt numb, which made me feel very relieved.
I was woken every 15-30mins to have my breasts checked, in case of surgery failure. The nurses were very vigilant and extremely thorough in their routine checks.
My family came to visit me. I would never have thought that I would visibly see the relief in everyone’s face but I did.
Now it was done and at last everyone could breathe a sigh of relief.
Three days later I was moved onto a ward, (the next step towards being discharged), and my breast drains removed.
My sister was there and she brought me my favourite Greggs sandwich, a tuna crunch, and a sticky cake of some sort, each day.
Billy had finished work early on the Friday and had brought Amber with him. When I saw his face I just burst into tears, for Billy is truly my soul mate.
I was healing well and the following day I was able to wash and nearly dress myself. My sister was able to return home for Billy was now on annual leave from work so was free to visit every day.
Billy and I were allowed to leave the hospital on some days and one day we went to Burger King and to the cinema.
I was now able to dress myself fully (with some difficulty), but needed help with certain clothing.
My plastic surgeon visited me the following day (Mon) saw how well I was doing and that the only thing keeping me there were the drains for my back, so they decided they would be removed the following morning and I could go home the following afternoon with my pain relief and iron supplements.
The following morning my drains were removed and my bag was packed and I waited patiently fro Billy and Amber to collect me.
Home at last.
On December 15th I had the pathology results, and I was given the all clear.
Although there were a few cells there, it was as near to perfect as we were going to get. What a great Xmas we were going to have. The Oncologist was going to set up my Radiotherapy to begin at the end of January.
My hair began growing back.
Several weeks after my surgery my back had healed well and my breasts were not as lumpy and swollen. Although there was still some swelling I knew it would even out in time.
I still have to have some finishing touches done, but I will be forever grateful to my breast surgeon for saving my life and my plastic surgeon for the skill needed and used in the reconstruction of my breasts, and the fantastic work and help of all the staff throughout my treatment.
There are so many people who have helped throughout this terrible time in my life.
My dad and step-mum were great throughout. They even cancelled their holiday so they were available at all times, my Dad was 76 at the time and was driving from North Wales to Ayrshire to look after me, which was a great help.
I’d like to thank my good friends and colleagues at work Liz and Jackie and the ward sister, Ashley and all the nursing and domestic staff on the ward I work on, my Line Manager Debbie for her support, my friends at Gala Bingo Irvine, Marie, Moira and Nancy who encouraged me throughout.
Not to mention all the nursing staff at the Canniesburn Unit at Glasgow Royal Infirmary. The staff on the Chemo ward were fab.
But the person I would like to thank the most is my Sister, for without her I would have given up the battle long before it began.
I have started Radiotherapy and will finish the treatment at the beginning of March.
I never thought I would feel good about life again, but I do and it’s all thanks to so many people.
Tracey, 48.
Cumnock
Ayrshire