My Journey Through Breast Cancer During the COVID-19 Pandemic

 

The COVID pandemic was a frightening, and uncertain period of time. We lost people we loved –  care homes and NHS staff & hospitals were under a strain never seen before. Contact with loved ones was forbidden, we had to stay in our own bubbles, work from home, socialising was banned, travel was restricted. Medical treatments postponed or cancelled… 

 

Just before this began, on Christmas Eve in 2019, I received a phone call which changed my life. 

 

My Breast surgeon confirmed I did indeed have grade 2 breast cancer, and it was HER2+ (the fast growing type). “This means we can’t delay treatment,“ he said. 

 

So began the fastest roller coaster I’ve ever ridden, a non-stop ride of MRI scans, blood tests, more biopsies, oncologist appointments, breast care nurses & chemo units. 

 

Those first few weeks of 2020, shock took over, my brain acting on auto-pilot, as loved ones gathered around me, and friends messaged with offers of help, to drive me or keep me company during the dreaded chemo.  

 

On the 3rd of February 2020 was my first and only chemo session where I had somebody with me – 6 gruelling hours, intravenously filling my veins with the evil mix that would help kill what I had nicknamed, ‘Chucky’.

 

THEN CAME THE COVID RUMOURS 

 

3 weeks later before my 2nd chemo session, the worldwide pandemic had been thrust upon us, life as we knew it was no more…

 

By the 23rd of March, the U.K. was officially in lockdown.

 

Hospitals were ‘no-go’ areas, the chemo unit was closed to all but urgent cancer patients, nurses wearing masks and sometimes homemade PPI, doors closed with scarily real signs saying ‘NO PALLIATIVE CHEMO’.

 

‘Stay at home’ was the government’s advice.

 

My fear was real, breast cancer alone was scary enough – then throw a worldwide pandemic in the mix, it made it terrifying, and I still had 36 hours of chemotherapy to withstand ahead. 

 

The world closed, all ‘normal’ life stopped. People wore masks, and hand sanitizer became our best friend. 

 

I couldn’t see, or hug, my family, grandchildren, or friends, as my immune system was vulnerable! Beautiful cards, gifts, and flowers kept me going. 

 

I received a letter from my oncologist asking if I wanted to postpone the rest of my chemotherapy, as I could catch covid at the hospital and it may result in my DEATH! 

 

Super shocking seeing it in black and white. I replied “if Covid doesn’t, breast cancer will kill me, so NO I’m not stopping”.

 

Caught between ‘the devil and the deep blue sea’, my hubby armed with a walking stick held out in front of us, masks & gloves on, keeping 3ft away from people, we navigated hospital corridors for blood tests, and on chemotherapy days he was not allowed in – he left me at the door to the unit. 

 

In June 2020 I was sent for my SMX, to a ghostly and vacant private hospital, now used by the NHS, where I entered to have my breast taken off me. No friendly faces, or hands to hold, all alone. My hubby cried, leaving me at the door at 7am, he then picked me up in the car park at 7pm, a mere 12 hours later.

 

Radiotherapy next, 15 rounds over 3 weeks, 15 minutes each. Empty corridors, huge sterile machines whirring around your body, while laid on a metal bed.  

 

A ‘granny’ pandemic miracle came about on the 20th September 2020, and another one on December 23rd 2020.  In the form of two beautiful new granddaughters – Ivy & Adira. I swear my guardian angels sent them to keep me going. 

 

Immunotherapy was given to me lastly, 14 treatments of solitary KADCYLA every 3 weeks intravenously at the chemo unit, still in masks and PPE.

 

For more information about KADCYLA® click here.

 

The treatment finally ended in April 2021, I lost 1 boob, all of my hair, a couple of teeth, and very nearly my sanity.  

 

I survived and now thrive. After counselling, I ran a fundraiser called ‘Pink Party’ (with all of my wonderful friends and family) raising £2500, and I became a Breast Cancer Now volunteer.  

 

I did a topless photo shoot at 65, with only my Boost breast form to cover the random boob left behind. 

 

 

My message on International Women’s day is to LIVE LIFE LIKE THERE IS NO TOMORROW, HOLD ON TO THE SMALL THINGS, AND TAKE EACH DAY AS IT COMES. Life does not stop because of breast cancer or global pandemics, it changes. So don’t forget to enjoy life and appreciate the small things, regardless of what may be going on around you.

 

Trisha Darling Tomkins