‘Mum and I fought breast cancer at the same time’
nicola Szkopinska, 39, a complaints manager from rickmansworth in Hertfordshire, was shocked when her mum Sheila, 72, was diagnosed with breast cancer. Little did she know she’d soon be battling the same disease
Icouldn’t believe what I was hearing as I sat next to my mum on her sofa. “I have breast cancer,” she said calmly. “Oh, Mum,” I cried. “When did they find it? Why didn’t you tell me?”
My mum, Sheila, 72, smiled softly. “I didn’t want to worry you,” she said as our tears started to fall.
Mum was my best friend and we shared everything with each other. We would meet up most days to go shopping or have a spot of lunch and she was the first person I went to about anything. But in November 2018, when Mum noticed puckering in her left nipple, she took herself to the GP without saying anything to me, my sister Lisa, 41, or my dad Richard, 70. Tests showed a 2cm tumour and cancer in her lymph nodes.
“I wish you’d told me sooner,” I sobbed. “We’ll get through this together.”
We went to her next appointment together and Mum was told to wait until more results came through so the hospital could plan her treatment. We already had a big family holiday in Gran Canaria planned – me, my fiancé Adam, 40, a project manager, our son Luca, seven, and Mum and Dad. I remember the doctor telling us to go and enjoy ourselves.
After we arrived and got settled at the hotel, we went out exploring and found the most beautiful beach. The place was stunning, but I couldn’t help but worry about Mum.
“Relax,” she insisted. “Let’s have a nice holiday.” And that’s exactly what we did.
Four days after we returned home, Mum had a lumpectomy at Mount Vernon Hospital in Northwood, north-west London. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” I said, clutching her hand as she lay in her hospital bed.
Over the next few months, Mum was scheduled for six sessions of chemotherapy, followed by 15 daily sessions of radiotherapy to eradicate any remaining cancer cells. I was determined to support her throughout and joined her at every appointment. The treatment was gruelling, but Mum was the toughest person I knew. Unfortunately, she ended up getting quite sick from the chemo – but while she lost her hair, she never lost her smile.
A Grim coincidence
The following March, when Mum was over half way through her treatment, I was at home taking a bath when a thought suddenly occurred to me – I’d never checked my own breasts. I squeezed them gently and, as I did so, I felt a small, hard lump in the right one.
“It can’t be,” I said to myself in disbelief. Surely it was too much of a coincidence to be cancer?
“It’s probably just a cyst,” I told myself. But with everything Mum had been going through I decided to get it checked out immediately.
“It’s probably nothing,” the GP said at my appointment three days later. “But I’m going to send you for a scan just in case.”
I had the appointment four days after that
– I had a private health plan with the company I work for – and something sinister was picked up on the scan straightaway. They said it didn’t look quite right. It could be nothing, but they wanted to do a biopsy, which they did there and then. I was terrified – I’d had it in my head that they would say it was nothing.
‘Knowing she’d been there took the fear out of it for me’
on 26 March 2019, the day after my 38th birthday, I went to an appointment to get my results. “I’m sorry, but you have breast cancer,” the consultant told me and Adam. There were two tumours in my right breast and it was stage one.
“I can’t believe it,” I gasped. Adam was very positive – he always is because he knows I’m a worrier, so he’s the level-headed one. “It will be fine,” he said. “They’ve caught it early.” It felt like all the air had been knocked out me. The word “cancer” filled me with dread, but Adam’s words of encouragement made me feel a bit better. The scariest part was breaking the news to Mum. After the appointment, Adam and I headed over to her house. She could tell straightaway something was wrong.
“I’ve got breast cancer too,”
I explained as her face dropped.
She broke down in tears and
I gave her a big hug.
“This is my fault,” she sobbed.
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “no one’s to blame.” She was devastated, but we both knew we had to stay strong for the sake of the family. And in some ways we were lucky – it had been caught early for both of us.
I was scheduled for surgery in April 2019 at Spire Bushey Hospital, Watford, to remove the tumours. Luckily, like Mum, I didn’t need a mastectomy.
As it was stage one, I didn’t need chemotherapy either, but I underwent daily radiotherapy for four weeks. The treatment was harsh and we were both exhausted by it.
I had my treatment at a different hospital to Mum, which was hard because I couldn’t physically be there for her. But having our radiotherapy at the same time brought us closer together because we both knew exactly what the other was going through.
“Radiotherapy is tough,” said Mum, who’d been through it first. “Give me a call after your session and let me know how it went.” Knowing she’d been there before took the fear out of it for me. You don’t feel anything when you’re having the radiotherapy, but you get exhausted a couple of days later and that goes on until the end of the course.
Mutual support
Mum finished her treatment in May 2019. She’d done incredibly well and I joined her at the hospital for her results.
When the oncologist said there were no further signs of cancer, it was the best news we could have hoped for. I continued getting treatment until July 2019 and once again, things looked promising. For the results of my final scan, I went with Adam while Mum waited expectantly at home with Luca.
“So? How did it go?” she asked.
“The doctors can’t see any cancer,”
I replied, beaming.
We both need six-monthly check-ups, but our doctors were satisfied that we were cancer-free. It had been one of the toughest years of our lives, but we both came out the other end together. We celebrated with a big family meal – 10 of us at Mum’s house. She loves to cook for us, so it was the best way to get back to normal.
I hope that sharing our experience can help encourage others women to check themselves for symptoms. For me, it was feeling a lump, but for Mum, it was a change in the appearance of her breast. It takes no time to examine yourself and it’s worth a 30-minute doctor’s appointment to rule out anything serious. You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does. Mum getting cancer was the only reason I checked myself for lumps – so she saved my life. I just hope our story can save others, too.