Life with cancer
For Daffodil Day, Sarah Murray talks about her journey through cancer
Sarah Murray was diagnosed with breast cancer in February 2015, aged just 32. Her symptoms had been mild. “I had a baby 11 months before and I was in the gym four times a week. I was also feeling tired, but I had gone back to work, and my job entails a 6am start time, so I was leaving the house at 5.30 am every morning, and I was up with a young baby during the night, so I didn’t pay any attention to the tiredness. en I noticed a swelling under my right arm. I went on with it for a couple of weeks. I was bringing my daughter Sadie for her 12-month vaccinations, and I know my GP very well, as he’s a family friend. I mentioned it to him. He told me it’s more than likely a swollen lymph node from some sort of virus or infection recently. I said, ‘Well no, I actually haven’t been sick at all’. So he said, ‘Let’s get an ultrasound done just to be sure.’ I was referred up to Beaumont for an ultrasound. I think I had it the following day. When I was in there, the radiographer did the ultrasound and asked me a lot of questions. She asked me to come for a biopsy. A er the biopsy, I was told my results would go back to a Professor Arnold Hill.”
Sarah was told she had early stage breast cancer, specifically HER-2 positive, and that it was quite aggressive. Sarah’s rst question when she got her diagnosis was not ‘Will I survive?’ but ‘Will I be able to have more kids?’ and ‘Will I lose my hair?’ She continues: “I was told that yes I would lose my hair. I bawled at that because I love my hair. en the consultant said we can give some patients the option of freezing eggs, but he said in your case, you’re very young, you have a little girl at home, I wouldn’t advise it because we need to get chemotherapy started as soon as possible and freezing eggs can take up to 4 to 6 weeks. He said the chance of my fertility coming back a er chemotherapy would be higher than with an older person.”
Sarah’s sister is an oncology nurse, and she told her about a drug some doctors used to try to preserve fertility during chemotherapy. “It was a drug called Zoladex, and it essentially puts your eggs into hiding. ere is not enough research into it, so doctors won’t say it works,” Sarah says, “but I said I’d try it, so I got the injection once a month.”
A week a er her meeting with the oncologist, Sarah started her treatment plan which involved six months of chemotherapy, a mastectomy and axillary clearance, six weeks of radiotherapy and a year of Herceptin. “In the beginning I was very strong,” she remembers. “Myself and my husband shaved my head. We went and bought the wig. As the chemo went on and I got weaker and weaker, I ended up in hospital with infections and it just got harder and harder on my mental health. e thought process was just about getting up in the morning and getting through the day. How was I going to entertain Sadie, who is now running around? It just got overwhelming. With a young child, the fatigue is what really killed me.” To combat her low mood and anxiety during and a er her treatment, Sarah used the Irish Cancer Society’s services, including the Daffodil Centre in Beaumont. “I got a lot of support from the cancer nurses in the Daffodil Centre. I used to go into them on my way to my chemotherapy to have a chat and they were always so nice and helpful. I still call in any time I am in the hospital. Having a listening ear, someone who understands, is such a great help. I also used the Nurseline. I didn’t nd that early enough. I could have done with it at the beginning. I also used e ARC Cancer Support Centre on Eccles Street in Dublin. I got counselling sessions in there from a lovely psychologist and I also went to some of their yoga, Pilates and mediation classes. ey were great and they always let my Mum come with me. People expect you to be over it once treatment has nished, but for me that’s when the reality of what I had gone through hit me. I believe talking is so important for your recovery, because recovery isn’t just physical; it’s mental too. Talk about it. Do not bottle up your feelings in your head, because the more you bottle them up, the worse it’s going to get: it’s a downward spiral.”
In October 2017, a er a very tough 2½ years, Sarah discovered she was pregnant. “We had only just said to my consultant that we were thinking of trying for a baby.” Baby Sean arrived the following June. Her pregnancy meant Sarah had to delay breast reconstruction surgery, but she is having it done now and she is feeling really healthy. “ ey’re trying to change breast cancer from a life-threatening disease to a managed life-threatening illness. And it is,” she says, keen to give hope to people dealing with a recent diagnosis, “Don’t get worried about the future, just do what your specialist doctors and nurses are telling you to do.”
Daffodil Day, supported by Boots Ireland, is on March 22 and raises crucial funds to support cancer patients and their families. Donate or volunteer at.cancer.ie