Breast cancer

Met a woman today who suspected she has breast cancer. She is in her 30s, with a 3yo son and a year old baby girl. She had had a persistent lump that was initially chalked down to a plugged duct. She massaged and massaged under the advice of an LC but the lump did not go away. Finally, she had a mammogram and recently, a biopsy. She would get her results only a couple of days from now, but the doctors have apparently hinted that the prognosis was not good. Worrying, was how they termed it.

She said her lymph nodes were swollen and suspected that it was not only malignant but in stage three. She had no other symptoms.

Surgery was definitely on the cards whether or not the lump was malignant but she clearly had her mind on the worst. Her words came quick, fast and tight, etched in fear, tinged by bitterness. She didn't mind losing a breast she said, but she had two babies and she wanted to see them grow up. My children need me, she said simply.

I felt she was jumping the gun and expecting the worst because the results were not out. But in her shoes, who was to say I would not do the same? As she said, brace herself for the worst. Her husband was distraught, the pastor, himself a cancer survivor had spoken to both.

I didn't know what to say. So I mainly listened. The fact that she was spilling her guts on something so wrenchingly personal to a virtual stranger like me spoke volumes. A combination of shock and fear. Maybe by telling someone all this, it would be more real. Yet she didn't want it to be real - who would?

She accused breastfeeding of being misleading. "We've all been told. We think by breastfeeding we won't get it. This is not true! In fact, why are we not told there is a risk of calcification? If I had known this, I would have stopped breastfeeding earlier!"

I agreed with her that breastfeeding is not the bullet-proof vest people think it is. But the risk of breast cancer is far higher if one does NOT breastfeed. It was not the time for the Breastvocate to go into action. So I just listened. She needed to talk and I could only help by listening.

We agreed - everyone needs a good baseline mammo. She urged me to go for one when I stopped breastfeeding. I agree. And it should not only be recommended for women above 40. She said the breast surgeon told her he was seeing more women in their 30s. I would not be surprised - combine stress, diet and lifestyle - trouble looms like the iceberg for the Titanic. We t alked about stress, about taking it easy even if the diagnosis came out benign - maybe taking long leave or switching jobs to a lower stress one. We talked about genetic markers etc. Her mother had cancer. My aunt died of breast cancer, so I have been touched remotely by this. We all are, in one way or another.

It could be you, it could be me. I hope it's not her. I hope she'll be ok. I wanted to ask for her number or an email to check in on her, but was afraid of being too presumptuous. But I was afraid of my own limitation - what could I say? What did I know? I was not going through it...

Right at the end of our visit to the doctor (we met chatting in the waiting room while waiting for our turn), we left together. In the lift, I looked at her bright-eyed little boy and I looked at her and wished her luck, saying I hope it turns out ok. I mean it. That little boy needs his mama.