Help me stop breast cancer from coming back AGAIN
Donation protected
I am asking for donations to help me access medical care for breast cancer treatment not currently offered on the NHS. I have 3 children and I desperately don’t want to die of cancer.
I have had 5 diagnoses of breast cancer between Dec 2011 and Jan 2020 and my options are running out if it comes back again. I would like to be able to attend the Care Oncology Clinic in London to access the treatment protocol they offer. Your donations will help me do that and give me the best chance of stopping another recurrence or metastasis.
Here is a potted history of my cancer story, but if you want to know the long version, please keep reading!
Oct 2010 was told lumps in my breast were fibroadenoma and nothing to worry about
Dec 2011 was told same lumps in my breast were cancer
Feb 2012 sentinel lymph node biopsy
Feb 2012 mastectomy surgery & implant put in left breast
Apr 2012 30 days of radiotherapy
Dec 2012 oophorectomy surgery to remove my ovaries
Jan 2013 lipofilling #1 to reconstruct my breast
Mar 2013 recurrence of cancer in lymph nodes under arm – lymph clearance surgery
Aug 2013 lipofilling #2 to reconstruct my breast
Dec 2013 temporary implant removed, silicone implant put in, plus lipofilling #3 to finish reconstruction of breast
Oct 2014 benign lump in lymph
Dec 2015 benign lump in breast
Apr 2017 recurrence of cancer in breast, lumpectomy surgery
Feb 2018 recurrence of cancer in underarm, surgery to remove cancer in pectoralis minor muscle
Apr 2018 chemotherapy
Jan 2020 recurrence of cancer in underarm in 4 areas, surgery to remove all 4 areas, including part of latissimus dorsi muscle
Thank you for reading. Here is my full story:
On 28th December 2011, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was 37 years old and my son was only 18 months old. My daughters were 2.5 and 9 and when my 9-year-old asked me if I was going to die, my whole world collapsed around me.
I had a sentinel lymph biopsy to see if the cancer had spread to the lymph – this came back clear which was reassuring. I had surgery in January 2012 – a skin sparing mastectomy which meant the inside of my breast and nipple was scooped out so that only the skin remained. My consultant inserted a temporary implant which would force my skin to remain stretched while I underwent 30 days of radiotherapy which left my thin skin burnt, lumpy, red and sore. It was like the worst sunburn you could imagine.
I researched frantically, trying to discover the reason why I had cancer at such a young age. I read about what I could do to prevent a recurrence. I was grateful that it had not spread from my breast and I tried desperately to keep it all together for the sake of my kids. The cancer was oestrogen receptive so after much soul searching, I had an oophorectomy in December 2012. Without ovaries, the oestrogen levels in my body would drop and that would mean less oestrogen for the cancer to feed on, thus reducing the chance of a recurrence. This plunged me into menopause age 37. Hot flushes, night sweats, aching joints, lethargy, low mood, insomnia, dry skin, weight increase, fluid retention – all ‘normal’ symptoms experienced as a post-menopausal woman. It sucked. But, if it was that or cancer, it was worth it.
Life carried on. With only 12 months in age between my youngest two children, Grace and Zoba, my day to day routine was busy, with little time to dwell on my health. I suppressed the feelings of fear, anxiety and sadness and just kept going. It felt like I had little choice.
At my six-monthly check-up in February 2013, the radiographer found a lump in my armpit. Biopsies showed that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes there. I had a full lymph node removal surgery the following month. The cancer had travelled in the smaller of two lymph branches and that had not been checked at my original diagnosis. I was devastated. Possibly more so than when I was first diagnosed. The shock and fear seemed more acute, the optimism of being cancer-free ripped from me.
The recovery from surgery was difficult. I had 2 pre-school children clambering over me all day every day. I had a 10 year old who needed to be driven to school and back every day as well as to after school activities. I had a house to run, meals to cook. My low mood descended into depression, but I kept it hidden.
In the summer of 2013, on my 40th birthday, my partner proposed to me. Our relationship had been rocky for the previous few years and the cancer diagnosis and all the resulting health issues caused by the treatment, had taken their toll. A wedding felt like a new start, and the planning gave me something to focus on. During 2013 and 2014 I had a series of operations to reconstruct my breast. Each time was grueling, with pain and restricted movement becoming the norm for me.
We married in June 2014 and it was the perfect day. I had been cancer free for 15 months and I was hopeful that being married would help to resolve some of the issues we had been experiencing. I was wrong. In October 2015 we moved house to our dream home. Our relationship was in a bad way but again I thought 'new house, new start'.
In April 2017 I had pains in my sternum and booked to see my consultant. Ultrasound scans showed a growth, not in my sternum but in my breast. Biopsies confirmed the cancer was back. Surgery involved removing a portion of my breast skin and me losing the shape my consultant had worked so hard to retain in my first surgery. My nipple was also pointing due east, not a great look, but once again, if it meant the cancer was gone, it was worth it.
In February 2018 they found cancer in a muscle in my underarm. An extensive operation during which I bled profusely, resulted in the muscle being removed and the oncologist recommending a course of chemotherapy. I had researched chemo extensively after my first diagnosis and decided that it was not worth the very minimal benefits it offered versus the horrendous side effects to the body – mainly depleting the immune system to the point of it never being able to recover fully. This time though the cancer was grade 3 (aggressive) and I was scared. More scared than any of the previous 3 diagnoses.
My mortality was staring me in the face and the fear of leaving my children without a mother was choking me.
I agreed to chemo – 4 rounds, each 3 weeks apart starting on Friday 13th April 2018. I saw it as a sign – my oldest was born on Friday 13th so it has always been a positive date for me. Chemo was tough – the nausea, the fatigue, the fear of the harm the toxic chemicals were doing to my immune system. The hair loss was surprisingly liberating. I was given an NHS wig but chose not to wear it, instead I rocked my bald head like a badass. But the psychological effect was not so badass.
And now here I am in 2020. Separated from my husband and trying to make sense of what the hell went wrong. I have had counselling to help me come to terms with what I have been through and this has helped my mental health to improve. I thought having had chemotherapy that I could now get on with my life and enjoy being healthy and happy...
In December last year I found a lump in my armpit – as soon as my consultant put the ultrasound wand on it, he told me it was cancer. The 8 biopsies confirmed that there were 4 areas of cancer in my underarm. One of them was in the latissimus dorsi muscle which is a different muscle than in the previous diagnosis.
On 16th January 2020 I had my 10th surgery in 8 years. I am tired, scarred from all the surgeries, worn down by all the stress and so scared that cancer is going to kill me.
I have been SO fortunate to be treated by the NHS in Scotland. The hospital I attend has one of world’s leading breast cancer units. My consultant attends lectures, seminars and conferences around the world educating other surgeons in best practice and sharing new techniques. The nursing staff in the wards are warm, caring, professional and under-appreciated. Maggie’s Centre in the hospital grounds has been a huge support to me over the last few years. I cannot fault my care at all. But, the treatments on offer are limited to surgery, radiotherapy and chemotherapy and my suggestions of trying any alternatives have been met with disinterest or disapproval.
There is a wealth of evidence that cancer is a metabolic disease and as such should be treated in ways very different to what the NHS offers. My frustration is that there are other options out there, real options which can make the difference between life and death. The standard cancer treatment in this country results in over 460 deaths every day. I cannot become one of those statistics.
I have researched a clinic in London called Care Oncology Clinic. They are run by oncologists who have become disillusioned with the treatments offered by the NHS and have set up the clinic to offer alternative treatments to cancer patients. Their results are reassuring, ground-breaking and expensive. I have also been to see a nutritionist and together we researched which supplements my body needs to boost my immune system and to give me the best chance of stopping the cancer returning, or even worse, spreading to critical organs. Please help me stay alive.
I would like to start on the protocol as soon as possible. All donations, no matter how small, will help and be so gratefully received. Thank you x
I have had 5 diagnoses of breast cancer between Dec 2011 and Jan 2020 and my options are running out if it comes back again. I would like to be able to attend the Care Oncology Clinic in London to access the treatment protocol they offer. Your donations will help me do that and give me the best chance of stopping another recurrence or metastasis.
Here is a potted history of my cancer story, but if you want to know the long version, please keep reading!
Oct 2010 was told lumps in my breast were fibroadenoma and nothing to worry about
Dec 2011 was told same lumps in my breast were cancer
Feb 2012 sentinel lymph node biopsy
Feb 2012 mastectomy surgery & implant put in left breast
Apr 2012 30 days of radiotherapy
Dec 2012 oophorectomy surgery to remove my ovaries
Jan 2013 lipofilling #1 to reconstruct my breast
Mar 2013 recurrence of cancer in lymph nodes under arm – lymph clearance surgery
Aug 2013 lipofilling #2 to reconstruct my breast
Dec 2013 temporary implant removed, silicone implant put in, plus lipofilling #3 to finish reconstruction of breast
Oct 2014 benign lump in lymph
Dec 2015 benign lump in breast
Apr 2017 recurrence of cancer in breast, lumpectomy surgery
Feb 2018 recurrence of cancer in underarm, surgery to remove cancer in pectoralis minor muscle
Apr 2018 chemotherapy
Jan 2020 recurrence of cancer in underarm in 4 areas, surgery to remove all 4 areas, including part of latissimus dorsi muscle
Thank you for reading. Here is my full story:
On 28th December 2011, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was 37 years old and my son was only 18 months old. My daughters were 2.5 and 9 and when my 9-year-old asked me if I was going to die, my whole world collapsed around me.
I had a sentinel lymph biopsy to see if the cancer had spread to the lymph – this came back clear which was reassuring. I had surgery in January 2012 – a skin sparing mastectomy which meant the inside of my breast and nipple was scooped out so that only the skin remained. My consultant inserted a temporary implant which would force my skin to remain stretched while I underwent 30 days of radiotherapy which left my thin skin burnt, lumpy, red and sore. It was like the worst sunburn you could imagine.
I researched frantically, trying to discover the reason why I had cancer at such a young age. I read about what I could do to prevent a recurrence. I was grateful that it had not spread from my breast and I tried desperately to keep it all together for the sake of my kids. The cancer was oestrogen receptive so after much soul searching, I had an oophorectomy in December 2012. Without ovaries, the oestrogen levels in my body would drop and that would mean less oestrogen for the cancer to feed on, thus reducing the chance of a recurrence. This plunged me into menopause age 37. Hot flushes, night sweats, aching joints, lethargy, low mood, insomnia, dry skin, weight increase, fluid retention – all ‘normal’ symptoms experienced as a post-menopausal woman. It sucked. But, if it was that or cancer, it was worth it.
Life carried on. With only 12 months in age between my youngest two children, Grace and Zoba, my day to day routine was busy, with little time to dwell on my health. I suppressed the feelings of fear, anxiety and sadness and just kept going. It felt like I had little choice.
At my six-monthly check-up in February 2013, the radiographer found a lump in my armpit. Biopsies showed that the cancer had spread to the lymph nodes there. I had a full lymph node removal surgery the following month. The cancer had travelled in the smaller of two lymph branches and that had not been checked at my original diagnosis. I was devastated. Possibly more so than when I was first diagnosed. The shock and fear seemed more acute, the optimism of being cancer-free ripped from me.
The recovery from surgery was difficult. I had 2 pre-school children clambering over me all day every day. I had a 10 year old who needed to be driven to school and back every day as well as to after school activities. I had a house to run, meals to cook. My low mood descended into depression, but I kept it hidden.
In the summer of 2013, on my 40th birthday, my partner proposed to me. Our relationship had been rocky for the previous few years and the cancer diagnosis and all the resulting health issues caused by the treatment, had taken their toll. A wedding felt like a new start, and the planning gave me something to focus on. During 2013 and 2014 I had a series of operations to reconstruct my breast. Each time was grueling, with pain and restricted movement becoming the norm for me.
We married in June 2014 and it was the perfect day. I had been cancer free for 15 months and I was hopeful that being married would help to resolve some of the issues we had been experiencing. I was wrong. In October 2015 we moved house to our dream home. Our relationship was in a bad way but again I thought 'new house, new start'.
In April 2017 I had pains in my sternum and booked to see my consultant. Ultrasound scans showed a growth, not in my sternum but in my breast. Biopsies confirmed the cancer was back. Surgery involved removing a portion of my breast skin and me losing the shape my consultant had worked so hard to retain in my first surgery. My nipple was also pointing due east, not a great look, but once again, if it meant the cancer was gone, it was worth it.
In February 2018 they found cancer in a muscle in my underarm. An extensive operation during which I bled profusely, resulted in the muscle being removed and the oncologist recommending a course of chemotherapy. I had researched chemo extensively after my first diagnosis and decided that it was not worth the very minimal benefits it offered versus the horrendous side effects to the body – mainly depleting the immune system to the point of it never being able to recover fully. This time though the cancer was grade 3 (aggressive) and I was scared. More scared than any of the previous 3 diagnoses.
My mortality was staring me in the face and the fear of leaving my children without a mother was choking me.
I agreed to chemo – 4 rounds, each 3 weeks apart starting on Friday 13th April 2018. I saw it as a sign – my oldest was born on Friday 13th so it has always been a positive date for me. Chemo was tough – the nausea, the fatigue, the fear of the harm the toxic chemicals were doing to my immune system. The hair loss was surprisingly liberating. I was given an NHS wig but chose not to wear it, instead I rocked my bald head like a badass. But the psychological effect was not so badass.
And now here I am in 2020. Separated from my husband and trying to make sense of what the hell went wrong. I have had counselling to help me come to terms with what I have been through and this has helped my mental health to improve. I thought having had chemotherapy that I could now get on with my life and enjoy being healthy and happy...
In December last year I found a lump in my armpit – as soon as my consultant put the ultrasound wand on it, he told me it was cancer. The 8 biopsies confirmed that there were 4 areas of cancer in my underarm. One of them was in the latissimus dorsi muscle which is a different muscle than in the previous diagnosis.
On 16th January 2020 I had my 10th surgery in 8 years. I am tired, scarred from all the surgeries, worn down by all the stress and so scared that cancer is going to kill me.
I have been SO fortunate to be treated by the NHS in Scotland. The hospital I attend has one of world’s leading breast cancer units. My consultant attends lectures, seminars and conferences around the world educating other surgeons in best practice and sharing new techniques. The nursing staff in the wards are warm, caring, professional and under-appreciated. Maggie’s Centre in the hospital grounds has been a huge support to me over the last few years. I cannot fault my care at all. But, the treatments on offer are limited to surgery, radiotherapy and chemotherapy and my suggestions of trying any alternatives have been met with disinterest or disapproval.
There is a wealth of evidence that cancer is a metabolic disease and as such should be treated in ways very different to what the NHS offers. My frustration is that there are other options out there, real options which can make the difference between life and death. The standard cancer treatment in this country results in over 460 deaths every day. I cannot become one of those statistics.
I have researched a clinic in London called Care Oncology Clinic. They are run by oncologists who have become disillusioned with the treatments offered by the NHS and have set up the clinic to offer alternative treatments to cancer patients. Their results are reassuring, ground-breaking and expensive. I have also been to see a nutritionist and together we researched which supplements my body needs to boost my immune system and to give me the best chance of stopping the cancer returning, or even worse, spreading to critical organs. Please help me stay alive.
I would like to start on the protocol as soon as possible. All donations, no matter how small, will help and be so gratefully received. Thank you x
Organizer
Mel Aghanya
Organizer
