My Cancer journey
October 2024|Michelle Biggs
On 22 June 2024 I knew I had breast cancer. This was my third mammogram and while nobody had actually said those words, the consultant who reviewed my mammogram and ultrasound scans had used language that left me in no doubt that this time something was different. I joked ‘Third time unlucky for me’ and I’m sure the consultant and Macmillan nurse were worried about how I was taking the news and the fact that I was alone and had to drive myself home. I drove home along the M3 waiting to see if fear, anxiety, sadness dawned but instead the practicality kicked in – I must get my will in order and set up power of attorney. The truth is I was ok – my attitude was and is ‘I’m going to kick cancer’s butt!’ because I know so many people who have done just that. My dad, for one, beat prostate cancer 5 years ago. A friend and colleague beat breast cancer years ago and she is the reason I had been checking myself (a helpful Facebook post had reminded me).
So, as I walked into the office of the Consultant Breast Surgeon on 9 July, I already knew the diagnosis. What I was interested in was what comes next. How bad is it? Did I catch it early? How do I beat this? What treatment do I need? What is the survival rate? Some of my questions were answered but others had to wait as only the Oncology Consultant could answer them and not until I’d had a series of tests. I found it odd to be escorted out of the consultant’s office by the Macmillan nurse and down the hall to a room where the nurse asked if I was ok. Again, I was. I can’t change the diagnosis and for me worrying is a waste of energy that I could put to better use actually fighting this disease. Don’t get me wrong, there was a short period of anger and frustration later. I’ve never smoked (I saw my grandmother die of cancer and swore I’d never give cancer ‘free pass’ access), I rarely drink and I have a relatively healthy diet and yet here I am having to deal with cancer anyway.
By this point, I had told my manager that I was awaiting the formal diagnosis but I was anticipating that it would be confirmed that I had breast cancer. I was anxious about telling her because, despite my long service with the company, Ruth was new(ish) and I didn’t know her as well. I didn’t know what the diagnosis and treatment plan would mean in terms of my ability to work and deliver key projects. I needn’t have worried. Ruth shared her own experience and I knew she understood. The reassurance of knowing that she ‘got it’ meant that I could relax and focus on the whirlwind of appointments and vast amounts of information that was to come in the weeks after my formal diagnosis.
Unfortunately, while some people on my treatment plan can carry on almost as normal, my body does not tolerate it. Despite not being able to work most of the time, I knew that the team at SEE were rooting for me and keen for me to focus on me and not think about work. I received texts checking in and letting me know what people had been up to but with no pressure or expectation of a response until I was ready. When I have been able to work, there has been a clear message of don’t overdo things, just do what you can, when you can. As I move to treatment plan B, that unwavering support and understanding remains key to me through this journey.
Reflecting on my experience so far, there are some lessons I want to pass on.
For employers
- Utilise your Occupational Health providers to run regular awareness campaigns on the symptoms of different types of cancer and the self checks people can do
- Develop an information hub, signposting employees to reliable resources of information, EAP counselling support, local cancer support charities etc.
- Consider setting up a cancer support group within the workplace – not just for those with cancer but survivors and those with family who have cancer.
- Encourage and support survivors to tell their stories. For those receiving a diagnosis, knowing others in the workplace have been in their shoes will help.
- Build supporting those affected by cancer into management and leadership training so that every line manager feels able to have conversations with their team about the work related options available and can provide support in a compassionate way.
- Managers need to keep in touch with their employees and be flexible in how, what, where and when work is delivered. An employee may express a wish to continue working but until treatment starts, they’ll have no idea how they will respond, making it impossible to plan. Even if the employee is able to work, Chemotherapy treatments cause immunosuppression so mixing with many other people on public transport or in the office will pose a threat to the employee’s physical health. They will be more vulnerable to catching colds, infections or viruses and they will be sicker if they do. In addition, illness can mean planned treatments need to be delayed or can’t be administered, prolonging treatment periods. Fighting cancer is hard enough without the added anxiety and stress of worrying about the serious impact of catching a ‘normal everyday illness’.
For employees
- Pay attention to changes in your body and get the tests done. Early detection means things are far more treatable or curable.
- Everyone’s journey through cancer is different and no two people will respond the same to the same treatment. Listen to your body and ask for help when you need it. That applies to domestic activities as much as work matters. If you’re like me and are fiercely independent, don’t think of it as asking for help. Think of it as effective delegation.
- Your diagnosis is yours, only share it when you are ready, with those you want to know. Agree with your manager the information you want shared. I knew I wanted the whole team to know early on but we’re a small organisation.
- I need to work when I can. For me, it gives a sense of normality, that’s nothing to do with cancer, and I can’t imagine being signed off sick and sitting at home watching daytime TV for four to six months. However, everyone is different as will be treatment plans and the impact of that treatment. Take things day by day and keep your manager informed of any adjustments to the support you need.
- Be kind to yourself. You are fighting a battle. It’s ok to be tired, angry, sad or need help. Reward yourself for the small wins – I celebrated with a large chocolate chunk cookie when I found out my cancer hadn’t spread beyond the breast, bought myself a box of pretty washi tape for getting through my first round of chemotherapy and ate chocolate cake when it was confirmed that the lump had shrunk significantly after two rounds of chemotherapy.