FIGHT CLUB
FIGHT CLUB Despite devastating cancer diagnoses in the prime of their lives, three brave women climbed their way back to health and are now making the most of their time as breast cancer survivors.
Three breast cancer survivors find strength in helping other women
In the year before she was diagnosed with breast cancer, Jenny Baker ran hundreds of kilometres, always outdoing her personal bests. She’d been running for 15 years by that point, and it had become a major part of her identity. “Running keeps me positive,” she says. “It’s a good way to work through feelings and reflect.”
Jenny had planned to complete five marathons in 2015 to celebrate her 50th birthday. Instead, she found a lump in her breast. “Though it was worrying,” she says, “I never thought it would be breast cancer. I felt fit and healthy.” But sure enough, the six-centimetre lump was cancerous and had spread to her lymph nodes. When her oncologist recommended chemotherapy to shrink the mass before surgery, one of Jenny’s first questions was, “Can I keep running through chemo?”—something her doctor had never been asked before.
With her oncologist’s blessing, Jenny proceeded to run to all six of her chemotherapy sessions with family and friends along for support. Her second session was particularly hard. “I found myself weighed down with sadness,” she says. But she met a friend in the park, and they ran along the river and talked the whole way. By the time they arrived at her appointment, she felt lighter.
Jenny also used writing to work through her cancer journey by blogging about her experience once or twice a week. Those posts—about everything from her chemo runs to bra shopping— became fodder for her book (see
below). Each week, she receives messages from women who have been touched by her story.
Though Jenny eventually had to take a break from running after her mastectomy and reconstructive surgery, she was back at it after a nine-week hiatus and continues to participate in marathons and triathlons. “When you have cancer, your sense of self is so challenged. You lose a lot of things that are part of your identity,” she says, citing hair loss, days off work, the removal of a breast and severe scarring. “So, for me, running has helped me stay true to who I am.” It all started with a routine radiation appointment—one that Audrey Guth needed to attend to ensure that her breast cancer wouldn’t return. “You scan in and wait for them to call your name,” she says. “It’s almost like a factory. There have to be 100 people waiting.” Audrey noticed one young woman in particular who was sitting with a squirming twoyear-old on her lap. “I saw the tears welling up in the woman’s eyes,” she remembers. “It looked like it was taking every bit of her energy just to be there.”
That’s when Audrey had an epiphany. She already owned an agency called Diamond Personnel that provided nanny services for families, often with working mothers. Why couldn’t she start a not-for-profit organization that would do the same thing for mothers with cancer? Though Audrey was still dealing with her own illness, her entrepreneurial spirit took over, and she secured a $60,000 grant and began recruiting volunteers.
In 2009, the Nanny Angel Network (NAN) was born. It’s utterly unique in the services it provides, particularly because the volunteer “nanny angels” are trained to speak with children about cancer and dying. “Most families are uncomfortable having that conversation,” says Audrey. “But kids ask questions that need to be answered in an age-appropriate way to build resilience.” And that’s the biggest impact that NAN makes on the lives of these families—giving the children a trusted confidant who will stay with the family until three months after the mother’s last treatment, or up to a year after her death.
One family stands out to Audrey as an example of the lives NAN has impacted. The mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer when she was seven months pregnant. The doctors did an emergency C-section and started treatment right away. That left her husband with a toddler at home and a baby in neonatal intensive care while he was driving a bus to make ends meet. For the entire year of this woman’s treatment, a nanny angel visited her daughters for four hours each week to play games, read books and, near the end, prepare the elder child for her mother’s death. Audrey visited the patient in palliative care a couple of weeks before she died. “I asked, ‘Are you afraid?’ ” remembers Audrey. “And she said, ‘No. I know NAN is going to be there for my girls, so I’m not afraid.’ ”
Want to get involved? NAN is always looking for nanny angels in the Greater Toronto Area. You must have at least one year’s experience working with children outside your family, but NAN will train you to talk to kids and answer questions about cancer diagnosis. Visit nanny angelnetwork.com to learn more.
For Brett Mccully, the decision to remove her left breast after a cancer diagnosis was easy. Dealing with the emotional repercussions after surgery was not. She remembers the day she stood in front of the mirror and peeled off her bandages to reveal her lopsided chest. “I couldn’t believe how large the scar was,” she says. When she was told she’d require a second surgery that would take even more tissue, she broke down: “I felt ugly. I felt like less of a woman. I hid for a long time because I was ashamed of what I looked like.”
It wasn’t until Brett discovered La Vie en Rose’s Muse line, a collection of bras for postmastectomy patients, that she began to regain self-confidence. “I loved shopping at lingerie stores and finding beautiful bras, but that was taken away from me until I found Muse,” she says. “The moment I put on one of those designs, I felt instant happiness. It’s cut lower, so there’s no chafing on my scar. The fabric doesn’t irritate my incision, and the corrective pad looks and feels just like a regular breast.” The bras are pretty and affordable—a big plus since Brett was off work for treatment.
After she found the dose of femininity that changed her perspective, Brett posted on La Vie en Rose’s Facebook page. “I wanted to thank them for making me feel like me again,” she says. “And to let them know what this product has done for my self-esteem by bringing normalcy back into my life.” Upon sharing her story, Brett was asked to be an ambassador and model for the Canadian brand’s Fall 2017 Muse line—and she jumped at the chance to promote the collection and help other women fighting to feel feminine postmastectomy. The role has also given new meaning to her harrowing experience. “It’s been great therapy,” she says, “knowing that I might help someone with the same issues.”