Day 7 #HAWMC
How did you choose to start advocating for breast cancer?
I don’t remember ever making a conscious decision to become an advocate; it’s something that has evolved over time. I think for many of us who have assumed this role the trigger is something that has happened to us or someone we love – something which we want to change and make better. Our advocacy evolves at the moment when it is no longer about us, but also about all of those who are affected in the same way.
For me, my advocacy was born in the moment when I realised that fertility preservation should have been on the agenda with my oncology team. The decision to initiate fertility preservation must be made quickly before cancer treatment begins. The sense of urgency, the stress of the cancer diagnosis, and insufficient support and information meant I didn’t feel I had time to explore my fertility options before treatment began. This ultimately had a negative effect on my emotional and psychological healing from cancer.
While it was too late for me to do something to preserve my own fertility, it wasn’t too late for other young women. I started to speak at events, write articles, and talk to whomever would listen that this was an issue that all young women with a diagnosis of breast cancer should be informed about. I co-authored a booklet on Breast Cancer and Fertility to provide patients with the information and support they need to make informed decisions about their reproductive choices when facing a diagnosis of breast cancer. All these many years later, I still can’t believe there is a need to continue this advocacy. While it’s improved for some, there is still no co-ordinated plan for discussing fertility and providing options for young women in Ireland. That makes me sad and angry, and so my advocacy continues.
How about you? What started you on your own advocacy journey?
Related Reading What I Wish I’d Known Then…
It really wasn’t a decision. I was new in this state,recovering from spine surgery, far from my beloved CA doctors. My best friend in central CA had died of breast cancer.
The doctor on the phone seemed to be laughing at something perhaps heard before I answered. Her laughing voice said: There was cancer. She told me to go to a certain surgeon “We use him all the time.” It wasn’t my idea of a good reason, but I went.
I fed all my scared hours into the laptop. Then there were a few good hours to feed in: A couple of wonderful radiation therapists who were like pals to me, a woman in a crowded waiting room who looked at my paper work and said: You got the GOOD doctor. I wanted good things for people who had a less encouraging experience.
I found someone to confide in–two someones, really. And along the way I re-learned a fascination with the medical world that started in high school, was revived working for CAP, and nourished by digging into research. Now, mornings like this when I wake up with so much more to write, I feel alive.
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Hi Margaret, thanks for taking the time to share your experience here and to know that you agree that often it’s not a decision we make, but something we grow into.
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