I had just turned 32 and life was pretty perfect. I had a gorgeous 15-month-old baby boy, a loving husband, I had just started working part-time again, and was about to buy a house. Life was brilliant.
I had just finished breast feeding, so thought it normal when I felt a lump in my breast. I sat on it for a month until I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and get the doc to check it out while I had my son in for conjunctivitis. Two scans and three doctors’ appointments later and my worst fear was confirmed.
I had breast cancer.
Invasive early breast cancer in one breast, a dodgy mark in the other (which turned out to be a benign fibro adenoma) and under my arm, cancer in a lymph node. Next came a blur of surgery, radiotherapy, chemotherapy, a load of drugs, reconstructive surgery and being told I would need 5-10 years of tamoxifen (hormone therapy – which is like having PMS constantly).