A diagnosis of cancer has a way of making every day feel special. There is no time to hold grudges

Fiona Gallagher (56), a secondary school principal from Galway, was diagnosed with breast cancer in November 2022 when she sought medical attention after noticing an unusual heaviness in her breast. She underwent a mastectomy a month later. Here, she shares her story of taking part in a clinical trial

When cancer comes knocking on your door, the feeling is like nothing you have experienced before. I had that feeling on a Wednesday evening in November 2022 when I left my school for a GP appointment to check out the symptoms I was having. I was anxious, but I hadn’t expected the GP to be so concerned by what she saw. A mammogram, biopsy and ultrasound were requested, and the following week, it was confirmed that I had breast cancer.

In January 2023, I embarked on a journey that would test all aspects of my character. However, with the continuous and unbroken support of my family, friends and school community, I found an inner strength that I did not know existed. As the saying goes: “You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have.”

When you are in the throes of it all — and it feels like a tsunami of emotions — you don’t think or feel. You are determined to get to the end of the relay race and begin living again. Every chemo cycle is one less; every radiation day is one less, until eventually you are no longer going to hospital. It is the most bizarre feeling that when all is done; you don’t feel euphoric or want to jump up and down. Instead, there is this dreaded fear/anxiety: “has everything been done?”; “did I get the correct dose every time?” It’s the little things that play on your mind.

The morning I lost my hair has to have been the most traumatic of my life. For a woman, her hair is her crowning glory. Yes, the mastectomy was traumatic, but it was not visible. Hair loss is the most visual statement of your diagnosis. A shaved head is when you really do look at yourself in the mirror, and ask, “how did this happen?”. When you are diagnosed, I don’t think it really sinks in.

When I was asked to consider the clinical trial, it was definitely something I was open to exploring. I wanted to be assured that the treatment was as safe as, and hopefully more effective than, existing drugs. After conversations with my family, and medical team, I decided to proceed. I believe that the trial is an encouraging ‘step forward’ in my recovery.

The extra monitoring part of doing the trial stuck a chord with me, and that was the over-riding piece. It meant I felt safe, and more confident. You don’t have the luxury of increased monitoring on normal treatment. I also developed a close relationship with my nurse, whom I could call or text any timel. She explained every part of the trial to me, and I knew I could stop taking part at any time.

I feel I have become more involved in my treatment because of it. I keep a journal and, every three months, I complete an online survey which explores aspects of my life, eg, wellbeing, overall health, etc. This June, I will be a year on the trial and I would definitely recommend it to other patients, if that is an option for them.

Now I’ve been thoroughly tested, both mentally and physically. You become stronger and know what you’re capable of. Surviving cancer is a major accomplishment and has resulted in a continuous growth of my inner strength.

A year on and the world looks a different place. A diagnosis of cancer has a way of making you look at each day as ‘special’. There is no time to hold grudges, and you begin to look at the bigger picture — for me, what I wanted from my relationships, my school, and so on. Things that used to bother me, no longer matter as much.

It was interesting, as word spread of my news, that ‘resilient’ and ‘determined’ were two words that my friends and colleagues used to describe me. Throughout the whole journey, you have to remain determined and resilient. You are absolutely petrified and you lie awake at night thinking of everything imaginable, but you have to take charge of the situation. There really is no choice.

Mind shift

I love my job and I have given everything to it. I get a buzz out of school life, even though it is demanding and exhausting. School leaders are in a very privileged position as we see every child evolve and flourish over the years.

Change came into my life in this past year and, in some ways, it has allowed me to reconnect with myself. Gratitude is a such a big thing for me. I wake up and I’m so thankful. Of course, there are times when I have a wobble and feel like nothing is going to plan. However, it’s about training yourself to think about the good. It can be as simple as being able to breathe.

Following the completion of her chemotherapy last May, Fiona started a clinical trial for patients with oestrogen receptor positive, HER-2 negative, early breast cancer. The trial is comparing the use of the hormone therapy giredestrant with a physician’s own choice of hormone therapy.

Monday May 20 is International Clinical Trials Day. As part of its Just Ask campaign, Cancer Trials Ireland is urging people with cancer to ask their doctor if there is a cancer trial to suit them. A public webinar on the topic will take place from 1pm-1.45pm. To register, visit www.cancertrials.ie/JustAsk

You are absolutely petrified and you lie awake at night thinking of everything imaginable, but you have to take charge of the situation. There really is no choice