Breast Cancer, Cancellation and Finding The Courage To Keep Going
On Sunday, I ran 30k. In 30-degree heat.
Not something I’d normally choose (I can barely sit outside in hot weather).
But I knew that with cancer treatment ahead, running might be off the cards for a while - and pulling out of the race just didn’t feel like an option.
I didn’t take risks. My goal was just to finish - without needing medical attention. Mission accomplished.
At times I felt choked up. Wondering what’s ahead. Wondering if my body will ever be the same after surgery and treatment.
But I’m so glad I did it. It reminded me what my body is still capable of - even under pressure.
My diagnosis: DCIS, high grade
I’m due to meet my surgeon early next week. But here’s what I know so far:
I have Ductal Carcinoma in Situ (DCIS) - an early form of breast cancer
Mine is high grade, which means it's more likely to grow quickly or return
The “in situ” part means it’s still contained in the milk ducts - but I’m waiting for an MRI to confirm the size and check for spread (multiple lymph nodes looked suspicious, but the biopsy came back clear)
Treatment is likely to begin within 3-4 weeks
At this stage, I’ve been told it may involve:
A lumpectomy followed by radiotherapy and possibly hormone therapy
Or a right-sided mastectomy, which could avoid further treatment but come with longer recovery
My cancer is weakly hormone receptor positive - which means a drug like Tamoxifen may be recommended. The side effects (fatigue, joint pain, risk of blood clots) are significant - so it’s something I’ll have to weigh carefully.
Even small things suddenly have extra weight. Like going to the dentist - thinking you might need a filling … and being advised to put that treatment ‘on hold’. Because some cancer treatments affect your teeth and gums.
Surprising things that make you cry when you have cancer
I’ve cried multiple times this week. Not over the big ‘important’ life things. But admin stuff that just feels hard.
Like trying to get a letter to confirm the diagnosis. Necessary for the conversations I need to have with banks, mortgage companies, health insurers and so on - given I’m unlikely to be able to work full-time for a while.
This involved multiple emails and phone calls. And saying: ‘I’ve just been diagnosed with breast cancer’ out loud (it’s easy in writing - but saying it out loud is harder than I expected).
And when I called into my GP surgery yesterday. I presented them with a covering letter that clearly stated my diagnosis - and what I was asking for. ‘I’ve just been diagnosed with breast cancer and I need these forms to be signed please,’ I told the receptionist. ‘I don’t know what you want me to do,’ she replied - in that detached manner commonly found in GP receptionists.
On not wanting my socials to become ‘Breast Cancer FM’ (but not wanting to hide either)
I don’t want to hide away while I have treatment. I can’t afford to.
But I’ll be honest: I don’t have a polished content plan.
I’m still trying to figure out how and where to share this part of the journey. Especially as it follows a series of ‘cancellation campaigns’ - since February of this year - after I spoke up on women’s sex-based rights. I wrote about it in my Substack article on finding out I have breast cancer.
But I’ve restarted my Courageous podcast.
And in the latest episode, I talk about what it’s like to get a breast cancer diagnosis while already fighting to rebuild your reputation, your business - and your voice.
How to listen
Listen to this episode of the Courageous podcast here 👇
SPOTIFY:
Unbelievable grit to complete that in such heat (even without the heat). I get the thought pattern though. I remember running up until the day before the mastectomy. I got faster and faster when I’m very much a plodder normally. I wanted to do it whilst I could and knew the fitness would aid recovery. Would highly recommend walking as much as possible afterwards if you feel up to it. Sending love.x
Love and strength to you Janet and your family on this part of a horrid journey.
I think it’s very brave and also very generous gift that might just need to hear someone’s else’s struggles against the system with serious illness and not feel so alone. Thank you x