It was the 25th of February, 2004, a day I will never forget: the day I was told I had BREAST CANCER. “Why me?” I had lived a healthy life style, I ate good food, never smoked in my life, liked the odd G&T (but who doesn’t), had my children early in life and breast fed both girls, had no family history of cancer and I was only 49! This couldn’t be happening to me... but it was.
The worst thing was having to telephone my husband Alan, who was working here in Shanghai, and expected me to travel to Shanghai two days later. After all, although the doctor could feel a lump, it hadn’t shown up on the mammogram, plus family and friends were saying, “you’ll be fine” and “think positive”. I had already booked my flight, my suitcases were half-packed and I was on my way. But I couldn't go, it wasn't ok, and I wasn’t fine. I had the big C, and it was terrifying!
Having talked with my daughters, family and friends, who were all devastated, and after a lot of crying, the question on my mind was what happens next. Luckily the hospital where I went for my treatment had a dedicated breast care nurse. She came out to my home and talked things over with us. The first thing I would have to do is have the lump removed along with five lymph glands to see if the cancer had spread. A few days later I was in the hospital for the operation, and soon after was told they had caught the cancer early, the lump was only 3mm and hadn’t spread to the lymph glands. That was a relief, but I still had a long journey to make. I was sure that with positive thinking and the love of my family and friends, I would get through this. I even told the doctor, “I’m too young to die. I have two daughters, who I want to see married, and grandchildren I want to see and play with."
Next came a lot of discussion with Alan, myself and the doctors trying to figure out what treatment would be best for me. I found myself in a daze thinking, “Who are we talking about—me? I really should listen—it’s the rest of my life we are talking about. I have to get through this no matter what.” As we discussed chemotherapy and radiotherapy, two of the main treatments used to treat breast cancer, I thought, “That means I’ll probably lose all my hair. I’ve seen other people—bald, and wearing those awful wigs or scarves, but if that’s what it takes to rid my body of this cancer, then so be it."
As we talked, Alan asked the oncologist, “If this was your wife what would you recommend?” The reply was, “ I would have everything possible done that the hospital could do to make sure that she would have the best chance of surviving” So our conclusion was NO DICUSSION, THEN. BRING IT ON!
Based on the stage that my cancer was in, I had four sessions of chemotherapy. Alan, who had to be back in Shanghai for work, my daughter Rachel and my closest friend Paula would take turns being by my side while I was having my treatment. When I started receiving treatment, I decided to try the cooling cap. You wear this cap on your head to temporarily reduce the blood flow and the amount of the drug reaching the scalp which can help reduce hair loss. On that first day of treatment, with considerable effort from the nurse, the cooling cap was eventually on my head. Ok here we go…wait, what is that I hear? Is someone actually snickering in my room? Come to find out, both my daughter and friend were in peals of laughter at how I looked with my cooling cap on. And I must admit I did look funny. This first day of treatment and laughter over my cooling cap set the tone for the rest of my treatment—we managed to laugh and joke the whole way through.
The first round of treatment took about an hour where I waited for the chemotherapy along with the anti-sickness drugs to slowly be injected into my veins. Afterwards I was told to go home and rest. This was something I didn’t need to be told because I was EXHAUSTED as the drugs began killing off the bad cancer cells while killing the good guys as well. I made sure I ate well and got enough rest and luckily I never had one bout of sickness. Funny enough, my taste buds changed and I began to love spicy food.
In spite of using my cooling cap, after the first session of chemotherapy my hair did start to fall out. After the second session, it was coming out in big clumps and when I got out of bed in the morning I had to vacuum the pillow.
One morning I looked in the mirror and felt about eighty.That day I made the decision to shave my head and the appointed barber was my friend Paula. I remember she was reluctant at first. But after I promised her I wouldn’t cry and warned her that shaving half my head just to see what I looked like was NOT an option, she got her husband’s electric hair shaver and set to work (I’m still not sure if he knows about it). Actually, as she cut my hair, it wasn’t me who cried, it was her.
The next thing to decide was whether to wear a wig or not. I decided not to and got Alan to bring me as many different colored baseball caps and scarves that he could get in Shanghai. I must say, I was the best dressed cancer patient in Newcastle, thanks to Xiang Yang market. By the way, one of the best things to come out of having your hair drop out is that there is no longer any need to shave your legs, underarms, bikini line, etc. Great!!
After the doctors were kind enough to give me a six week break, I started the next round of treatment which was radiation-therapy. I had to go to a special hospital which, lucky for me, was only a 10 minute drive from my house. Once the treatment area had been finalized and tattoo marks were made on the skin to pinpoint the exact place where the radiation would be directed, the treatment started.
Soon the end of August came and that was the end of my treatment. I had the most unusual feeling—it seemed like something was missing in my life. For months I had been surrounded by people prodding me, sticking me with needles and I had lost all my hair. Now, even though I knew I had the backing of the hospital, especially my breast care nurse, and still had my friends and family, I somehow felt empty and alone. So what next? Well, after a good cry, I picked myself up and thought, “Right. I’ll give myself three weeks to get over the fatigue, and then I’m back to Shanghai to see the friends and colleagues who have emailed, telephoned and sent flowers and gifts to me, and then I’ll start my life again.”
This is how this new season of my life begins. As many of you know, I, along with other breast cancer victims have set up the Shanghai Breast Cancer Network—a breast cancer support group here in Shanghai that has been up and running since November 2004. This group has been created for ladies like ourselves who are miles away from home and just want to talk to someone who has been through a similar situation. I hope my story is an encouragement to you. If you have any questions or know someone who may need some support, please don’t hesitate to get a hold of us at susanvassallo@hotmail.com.
P.S. In April 2006 I watched my oldest daughter, Carollyn, get married to her husband, Nick, and had a fantastic day. In a couple of weeks I’m headed back home because I’m going to become a Grandma for the first time!
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