Men share breast cancer stories
Breast cancer in men is rare, accounting for less than 1 per cent of cases in NZ. Lee Suckling talks to three guys about how they were diagnosed and how they coped with the disease.
‘‘It did take me a while to adjust to the diagnosis. I couldn’t tell all my friends straight away. I did share it with my current partner, my daughter and my ex-wife. But I really struggled with my mates.’’ Terry O’rourke
Although rare, men get breast cancer too. According to the New Zealand Breast Cancer Foundation, around 25 men are diagnosed with the cancer every year, which accounts for less than one per cent of breast cancer cases.
Because breast cancer is seen as a ‘‘women’s disease’’, it’s common for men to put off seeing a doctor about a lump on their chest. Though symptoms are the same for both sexes – and, in fact, it’s the exact same cancer that affects women – the first thought for most men when encountering an abnormality on their pectoral area wouldn’t generally be breast cancer.
‘‘I thought ‘why had I got a women’s disease?’ initially, I was not aware it happened in men,’’ says Greg Sargeaunt, from Tauranga, who was diagnosed in early 2016. ‘‘We got prostate or bowel cancer.’’
Sargeaunt’s breast cancer journey began with a misdiagnosis. ‘‘I initially went to the GP with a painful nipple on my right breast. Initially it was diagnosed as a bruise. I was going to Europe for three months, and was told it would clear up OK,’’ he says. ‘‘Whilst on the trip the nipple grew larger and started to fungate. On my return I went back to the GP and he thought it was cancer. We had the test, and it was confirmed as stage 3 breast cancer.’’
It had never occurred to Terry O’rourke – diagnosed in March 2016 – that he could get breast cancer either. ‘‘Did I know men could get breast cancer? Not really, at least it had never impinged on me,’’ says O’rourke, who is from Waiatarua.
For O’rouke, it also began with a lump. He was immediately put in for an ultrasound and mammogram, and three weeks later he was at his first oncology appointment. ‘‘I was then put on the list for surgery [his mastectomy was done a month later]. By now it was known that this was a stage 2 aggressive cancer. There was one tumour.’’
Craig Johnson, from Mt Wellington in Auckland, was diagnosed in July 2016. He thought the lump on his right breast was either something from weight loss, or gristle from playing football or another sport. ‘‘After five or six months I decided to see my GP, who suggested I book in to see [specialist breast surgeon] Trevor Smith at Ascot Hospital.’’
After an immediate ultrasound and mammogram, and just days later, biopsies, results confirmed a 22mm malignant cancerous mass. A mastectomy was performed two weeks after Johnson first walked into the breast specialist’s office.
Genetic testing for both O’rourke and Sargeaunt confirmed it didn’t run in their families, and Johnson’s only family history was his maternal grandmother who died in her late 70s of bowel cancer.
Regardless, telling family and friends was tough. ‘‘It was harder at the time for my wife and daughters than for me,’’ says O’rourke. ‘‘I hope this is not casual sexism, but I suspect that women are more aware of breast cancer and that breasts are strongly related to their selfidentity.’’
Johnson adds: ‘‘It did take me a while to adjust to the diagnosis. I couldn’t tell all my friends straight away. I did share it with my current partner, my daughter and my ex-wife.
‘‘But I really struggled with my mates. Especially the guys that I have a few beers with. I find it more easy talking to females about it than males for some reason.’’
There’s also the problem of breast cancer literature: it’s all skewed towards women. ‘‘Many times nurses have apologised as the support material they give you refers only to women,’’ Sargeaunt says.
‘‘You find yourself in a very small minority. I have, however, supported the Breast Cancer Foundation through volunteering, and I think they do a good job, but even they do not put sufficient emphasis on men’s breast cancer.’’
These three men are all at different stages of their treatment. ‘‘I was rather fortunate that the five lymph nodes they removed from my right armpit were all clear so there was no need for any chemotherapy or radiation,’’ says Johnson. O’rourke’s medical team confirmed there was no spreading to the lymph nodes and ‘‘the basic message was that there was little to worry about’’, he says.
Sargeaunt has had a rougher cancer experience. After his mastectomy, it was found the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes, and he had 27 of them removed. He has completed five months of chemotherapy – and is still dealing with its invasive side effects, and is now undergoing radiotherapy. He should then move on to five years of hormone treatment.
In New Zealand, the prognosis is similar for men as for women: 86 per cent remain in remission at the five-year mark.
As with any cancer, survival is most likely when diagnosed early. ‘‘[We must] get GPS more aware as I know of other [men] who where initially diagnosed with bruising,’’ says Sargeaunt.
When men do get diagnosed and treated, however, they are generally pleased with the level of care received.
‘‘Certainly all the health professionals that I have encountered were extremely skilled, gifted, and honest with me,’’ says Johnson.
‘‘That is reassuring.’’