Why I’m risking cancer to take HRT
Your risk of breast cancer is raised 2.7 times by hormone replacement therapy, a study found last year. Despite her mum battling cancer linked to HRT, when the Sunday Mirror’s Grace Macaskill, 45, started struggling with the menopause, she still chose to
Almost seven years ago, my lovely mum Margaret was diagnosed with breast cancer. Doctors discovered two lumps in her left breast. They were small, just millimetres wide, but they were aggressive and stage 3.
It was hard to imagine that something so tiny could take away our whole future as a family – that they could steal away the mum who had spent her whole life putting her husband and four kids first.
It wasn’t fair. She didn’t smoke. She didn’t drink. Yes, she was carrying a bit of extra weight at the time but, in her early 60s, it was forgivable.
Experts tell us most cancers can be traced to lifestyle factors and Mum was keen to find out. Specialists at Lincoln Hospital – where she had chemotherapy so aggressive her toenails fell out – put it down to 10 years on HRT.
Like millions of women, her GP had prescribed her hormone replacement therapy tablets for symptoms of the menopause – mood swings and hot flushes that made life unbearable.
Happily, Mum has been cancer free for two years now. But I vowed never, ever to take HRT. I would stoically turn to natural remedies. I’d take soya milk, eat enough fruit and veg to fill a cart, take black cohosh and evening primrose for hot flushes and continue life uninterrupted.
Except it didn’t work out that way. By the time I hit 40, I had two small children under three and tiredness started to set in. When my first son, Theodore, now seven, was a toddler, he’d laugh with delight as I’d swing him about and dance around the room. By the time Nathan was the same age, I was almost 43 and my energy levels had taken a serious dip.
At first, I put it down to age. I was a mum of two with a full-time job and two small children, how could I not be tired?
But as the months crept by, that feeling of malaise became something more. Shattered doesn’t even cover it. I felt sick with tiredness from the moment I got up until the moment I went to bed.
My joints ached like I had the flu and my stomach was constantly bloated. I convinced myself I must have cancer.
Worse still, I was finding it hard to interact with Theo and Nathan. When they wanted to play ‘horsey’, I’d respond with ‘Mummy’s tired’ or ‘In a minute’. The minute never arrived. My husband would end up playing with them on his own.
I didn’t even have mood swings because I was too tired. Getting out of bed was a struggle. My brain was foggy and I couldn’t recall people’s names. Life was terrible – then the night sweats started. Imagine waking up your fevered worst in illness and you get the picture.
Eventually, under a cloud of worry, I went to the GP who tested my hormone levels. Turns out my oestrogen levels were very low and, just like my mum, I’d hit the premenopause early. At 43.
The GP offered me a low dose of HRT and, right there and then, I said yes. After watching everything my poor mum had been through, I didn’t question it. I’m now on combined HRT tablets.
I didn’t turn to herbal alternatives because I just wanted medicine to fix it. Maybe I should have given them a go –
maybe I will in the future. I write enough about health issues to know the statistics surrounding HRT and cancer. If 1,000 women start taking it aged 50 for five years, two more will get breast cancer and one more will get ovarian cancer than without.
But it’s a risk I’m willing to take – without it, I felt I was living half a life.
I try to look at the big picture. Staying a healthy weight could stop 18,100 UK cancer cases a year and 64,500 smokers wouldn’t develop the disease if they quit. The risk with HRT is small in comparison. Mum also took it for 10 years, from age 40 to 50, longer than recommended.
I realise my decision will attract criticism. But it’s a personal choice.
Life is different now. Back in focus. I no longer feel like an empty husk, a walking zombie devoid of real emotion.
Yes, I’m still groggy in the mornings, I still have some night sweats and my memory is not what it was. But my energy levels are back and I can once again dance around the living room with the kids – and that’s worth everything.
Today, my mum considers she was unlucky. Maybe I will be, too, but it’s a chance I’m willing to take.