Making Every Second Count
Living – and campaigning – with secondary breast cancer
Less than five years after Emma Cairns was treated for breast cancer, and while still only 38, she received the devastating diagnosis of secondary breast cancer (SBC).
“I had been experiencing increasingly bad back pain for a year and had been from my GP to the physiotherapist and back again to get answers,” explains Emma. “Of course you don’t want to think your cancer might be back so if a doctor says not to worry you tend to say, ‘Ok, fine’. But by the time I finally received my secondary diagnosis, I had three collapsed vertebrae in my spine as a result of the damage the cancer had done. It had also spread to my liver. I went straight into treatment which made me very ill but stabilised my condition.
“It was as if a hand grenade had been thrown into my life. I took early retirement from teaching and tried to live my life under the shadow of a life limiting illness. According to the statistics, on average people survived 2-3 years after a secondary diagnosis.
“My daughter Molly was six-and-a-half then, too young to truly understand the reality of my diagnosis. Then my husband left. This was the most difficult of times for me.
“Eventually I decided that travelling would be my saviour. I couldn’t just sit here and wait for this to happen. Molly and I went to Thailand and Cambodia and we had a ball. I can honestly say it was the best therapy. The trip made me feel I could do anything.
“Since then we have been to Singapore, Borneo, Vietnam and Myanmar, making lots of amazing memories together.
“Much more focus is given to primary breast cancer because there is a great amount of successful treatment but sometimes, women with SBC can feel almost guilty, the ‘failures of the system’. In October particularly, when everything is pink and fluffy and carnival, it can be very difficult. Last October I made a speech at the Houses of Parliament which supported the Breast Cancer Care manifesto on improving provision for SBC.
“I said I considered myself fortunate to have an amazing team in charge of my care, including a specialist SBC nurse. But that not all women in my position have access to this vitally important resource and I can only imagine how scared, isolated and
Not all women have access to resources and I can only imagine how scared and isolated they feel
bewildered they must feel.
“Also, not all hospitals are collecting SBC data and the existing information is not collated centrally, so it’s very difficult for hospitals to determine what the demand for these services might be.
“At the time of my speech I had just completed 18 chemotherapies to which I would initially respond well, only for the disease to work around it and progress again. Since then, however, my cancer has actually changed type and I am discussing with my oncologist whether there are suitable drugs available that I haven’t tried yet. I have been fundraising because, if they are unavailable to me on the NHS, I will have to self-fund.
“This experience is a continuous rollercoaster of good news and bad. I do still have bad days but I am past the stage where the many statistics and worst case scenarios fired at you make it difficult to imagine living a life. I don’t know how long I have left to live – but nobody does!
“I want Molly to remember me living my life to the full and taking every opportunity that I have available to me. She is now 13 and growing into an amazing young woman. I have seen her go to secondary school, have her first boyfriend, and experiment with make-up, but I can’t tell you how difficult it is to know that I won’t see what sort of adult she becomes. I work hard to stay positive and to live my life as much as I can.
“My disease has given me perspective, I have the clarity that comes with a terminal diagnosis. What is left of my life is defined by some certainties. One of those is that I am going to make every second of my time on this earth count.”
It’s true I don’t know how long I have left to live – but nobody does!