Cancers
5 min read

Q&A: A mammogram screening saved my life

Published on
August 14, 2024
Contributors
Rachel Watts
Breast cancer warrior princess
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A mammogram saved my life. A Q&A with Rachel and her breast cancer journey

Traveling from Wellington to Auckland and beyond, Rachel Watts has lived a life full of adventure and joy. However, her journey took a dramatic turn in June 2022 when she was diagnosed with an early stage yet severe breast cancer at 45.

In this candid Q&A, Rachel shares the raw and heartfelt details of her diagnosis, treatment, and the ups and downs of living with breast cancer. From the emotional toll to the small victories, Rachel opens up about her experiences and offers invaluable advice for others going through similar journeys, as well as for those supporting loved ones in their fight against cancer. With a blend of humour, gratitude, and wisdom, Rachel’s story is a testament to resilience and the power of community.

Tell us a little bit about yourself

I was raised in Wellington but settled in Auckland a decade ago, following a wonderfully selfish 12 years abroad. I am currently raising two fabulous, young children, William and Evie, with my extraordinarily loving and patient husband Martyn.

In June 2022, at 45, I was diagnosed with an early stage but relatively nasty tumour, during an annual breast screening. Following a lumpectomy, five rounds of chemotherapy, and radiation I jumped on a plane to Europe for Christmas, with a suitcase full of woolly hats. I was bald and rather tired. But I could not have been more grateful or have felt more loved.

Q1 Tell us about your diagnosis. How did you first become aware that something might be wrong, and what steps did you take?

I received my breast cancer diagnosis following an annual routine mammogram. At 45 years old, I had only just reached the age of entitlement to publicly funded screening. However, I had chosen to begin private screening two years earlier after several friends received early diagnoses. I did this despite having no family history of breast cancer, and a complete absence of symptoms. It also came on the back of 30 years of joking with girlfriends that I would be the last in line for breast cancer given my rather unexceptional cleavage.

I often wonder about the timing of my screening and how fortunate I was to have it caught in the earlier stages. I will openly admit, at that time, I could have counted the number of self-examinations I had performed over the years on one hand.

The request to return for a second mammogram, in all honesty, had not concerned me. However, following that mammogram, I received an ultrasound and biopsy in the very same appointment. I didn’t experience the level of shock one might expect. I even joked with my surgeon that I’d missed the drum roll. The medical care in those first stages was done with such openness, gentleness and (as I tend to prefer) ruthless efficiency. I think instead I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude. I have a clear memory of leaving the breast clinic that evening, struck by how fortunate I was to have access to such immediate and good medical care.

Of course, there were tears too.  Sometimes through exhaustion. Sometimes with laughter. And I must have eaten my weight in chocolate in those first few weeks. 

Q2 On hearing you had cancer, what went through your mind and what steps did you take to manage your health and wellbeing, both physically and mentally?

As you would imagine, a cancer diagnosis and one’s reaction to it, is very personal to the individual. Those who know me well will understand why I preferred to be all action from Day 1. Whether it was positive thinking, or simply a familiar coping mechanism, I went into full project mode.

I remember working through my diary, crossing commitments out (some things, with unexpected joy!).  I prioritised the important things. For me that was taking care of my nuclear family and myself, while committing fully to the recommended treatment. I let go of the rest.

I let people in. I shared my diagnosis with my nearest and dearest, and I responded to those that heard about it from them. Very quickly, I felt surrounded, in a good way.

I reached out to friends who had been through it, and those who had supported others going through it. I welcomed advice, but I was also unafraid to ignore some of it. I took away the tips that I thought had value for me.

I never googled ‘breast cancer’. That was a very personal choice. I put my faith in my medical team. It made for a clearer head and minimised the risk that I would become concerned with things that were not relevant to my journey.

I embraced the hair loss. A fairly unique reaction perhaps, but something I was very grateful to be able to do. It was probably fortunate that my hair had never been my finest feature!

In anticipation of some of the more common side effects I treated myself to some extra toiletries (mostly lip balm) and filled the pantry with plenty of bland food. My mother made soup. And, in my naivety, I stocked up on chocolate.

Q3 What important lessons or insights have you gained from your experience with breast cancer that you would like to share with others going through a similar journey?

The biology, the timing, the treatment and those side effects.

A cancer diagnosis and the treatment journey has so many variables. While there can be much shared experience, there will be plenty of distinct experiences that are yours alone. The reaction to hair loss, financial pressures, the desire for privacy or openness. For quiet and calm, or positive distraction. That would be one of my greatest learns. Your journey will be unique. Do it your way! But be comfortable in the knowledge it may take a while to determine exactly what that is.

People will want to support you. Don’t be afraid to let them know how best they can do that. Time with your kids, or perhaps time without them. A hand with the cleaning, or just some good company.

Prioritise your self care. Take the time to rest and embrace all things calm. I mouth-washed. I moisturised. I stood in some very long, hot showers. I learnt to say no. Guilt-free. It was surprisingly refreshing.

I learnt about the magnificent cancer specialists in this country. I experienced the wonder of the nursing profession. They are your angels, and they are a wealth of support and helpful tips.

I began to appreciate the numerous resources out there for those on the journey – whether it be practical advice and support, or personal connection. The Breast Cancer Foundation is fabulous. Attend a Look Good Feel Better seminar to boost your self-esteem or take advantage of free counselling and physiotherapy sessions.

Q4 How are you now and how has your diagnosis changed you?

I completed my treatment in early December 2022 and have returned two clear mammograms since.

For many, cancer treatment can mean an early introduction to menopause, in all its glory. For me, this meant managing hot flushes became a part time job almost immediately. Lighter meals, plenty of water and a tower fan in the bedroom made quite a difference. Numerous and unpredictable, the hot flushes did at least provide some good laughs for the kids and were often a great conversation starter with similarly suffering girlfriends.

I could certainly drink more water; exercise more and always eat better. But I am trying.

I found a fabulous hairdresser. I just need a bit more length for her to work with.

I often reflect on my journey, and that reflection has included feeling apprehensive about the future. I do try to speak openly about those fears, and to get on with life regardless.  I know I was lucky to not only have caught things in the early stages but also to have experienced in my opinion relatively minor side effects.

Continuing to engage with others on the journey, or caregivers wanting advice, has provided me with a good sense of purpose. As has pestering girlfriends to ensure they are screening regularly.

Q5 What advice would you give to someone who wants to be a good friend to someone going through breast cancer, especially regarding emotional and practical support?

I would begin by saying they are already an amazing friend just for asking.

They mustn’t be afraid to stay in touch. A short text message just to say you are aware of someone’s journey is incredibly valuable. Don’t worry if you get a very delayed response, or no response at all. It can be a hectic and tiring time. But your care has been registered.

If you wish to be of practical help. Don’t just offer. Go for it. Caregivers are a wealth of knowledge if you want a little advice on what might be most helpful. Don’t overthink it though. Just drop in a meal. Someone in that household will love you for it.

Occupy the kids for an afternoon. Offer to drive your friend to one of many appointments or pop in for a cuppa. Just be sure to vacuum your way out of there! Anything that takes a task off their hands and frees up their time to rest.

Reach out to the main caregivers to see how they are getting on. My mother and husband were my rocks. I was so grateful that people were checking in on them too. Caregivers are taking on more, often juggling numerous tasks, while also going through their very own emotional journey.