No time for tears
A breast cancer survivor’s story
HART HILL, Portland — One day after she became a certified nurse’s assistant Cassandra Bennett was diagnosed with breast cancer.
She was 45 years old. She did not cry; instead, she chose to fight. Born in the community of Mahoe in Portland’s Buff Bay Valley, she lived in the Hart Hill section of the parish until she emigrated to the United States of America in 2013. On November 13, 2016 she graduated from the Bulkan Educational Institute in Brooklyn, New York. The next day she got the news no one ever wants to hear. This is her story, in her own words, lightly edited.
Since living in the United States I have been doing my yearly mammogram. In August of 2016, I remember clearly after I did my mammogram I was called for a second imagining, and then I was asked to do a sonogram. Immediately I knew something was wrong. I was then asked to do a biopsy and the result came back as cancer – stage one.
From the day of the sonogram I said to the doctor, “I knew something wrong from my nursing studies.” When I got back the results I looked up to the sky and said, “Why me, Lord?” But on my way home I said, “Lord, you know why, after all I am not better than anyone else.”
I did not cry; I knew that I was diagnosed with cancer but I would not accept it. So I said whatever is not of God is not for me, so this monster has to go.
On October 14, I was officially diagnosed with breast cancer. I had no health insurance, but I have my two children and my niece to live for and that motivated me. My spirit was dampened as it was just after graduation and I had been looking forward to going out to work. I got help with my school fees from someone’s brother who I was caring for, who wanted me to be certified in the medical field.
I asked breast surgeon Dr Maria Catalvi, “What am I going to do?” She said to me, “We are going to save your life and then you tell us how you are going to pay us later.” With that she wrote up some documents and gave it to me, indicating that I have to do an MRI [magnetic resonance imaging] to get clearance for surgery.
I remember on the day of my visit she said to me, “You have two choices– a lumpectomy or a mastectomy.” I said to her, “Mastectomy, please.” She said, “Right choice, you will live another 35 years without worries.”
She said, “How the 13th look to you?”
I said, “Is it a Friday?”
She said, “No.”
I said, “Yes.”
November 13, 2016 I had a mastectomy. I told my mom and my sisters but I could not tell my son and daughter until after the surgery.
The day of the surgery my son said to my mother, “Mama I know something is wrong with mummy; this is unlike her, she call me every day.”
I told them on December 13, 2016.
My daughter was okay when I told her, but my niece did not accept it easily. She said to me, “Auntie Sandra, if you did dead what you would tell me. Please don’t hide anymore secret from me?”
I said, “Yes niecey.” My friends here were okay with it, they were at my beck and call; Doreen Williams and her family were super exceptional. They took me in before the surgery.
I was home for a while, then two months after I had to put in a chemo port. I had three months of chemotherapy therapy and six weeks of radiation therapy.
Chemotherapy was rough. My fingers got damaged and the radiation burnt my liver. I had to be hospitalised for over 10 days.
Two lumps were found in my right breast from the biopsy but after the MRI they found six lumps. After the surgery I was informed that it was stage two cancer and not one as I was originally told.
I am fine now. I am in remission, I still do my yearly checks. I take an oral chemotherapy pill daily, and an infusion every 28 days. These I will have to take for the next 10 years. I am fourand-a-half years in taking the pills and three-and-a-half years in taking the infusion. I take my vitamins and I am okay. I eat right, exercise, live good and love God.
I would recommend that persons do early testing to know what is happening as early detection saves lives.