Vikki’s Story
“I was only 32, with two kids, a 4 year old and soon to be 2 year old.”
I’ll start from the beginning…
I’ve known for years that my mum is a BRCA carrier, and that the gene runs in the family. In fact our family was part of the very first BRCA study in Guernsey back in 1987. It all goes back to my mum’s cousin who was 27 when she was diagnosed with Breast Cancer (she is now in her 60s and thriving). At the time she was the youngest person to be diagnosed and the UK were starting to look at how genetics play a part in Cancer. As part of her surgery, she had some breast tissue taken away for testing in the UK and it was identified that she was a BRCA carrier.
The genetics team in Southampton came over to Guernsey and met with the extended family offering testing to them all. Some took it up, and over the years even more of the family have been tested.
Now let's get back to me....
My mum has never pressured us to get tested, and said it was up to us if we did or not. I hadn't really thought about it much, I was still only in my 20s at the time, despite being pressured by my best friend who found out she was a BRCA carrier following her sister diagnosis.
It wasn’t until after the birth of my daughter and going to my 6 weeks post-partum check with the Doctor - the Doctor that would save my life - that I thought about it seriously.
We touched on contraception. It was only then that she identified that having this gene in the family and that the contraceptive pill I had been on since I was 16 was one that should not be given to BRCA carriers. It was then she asked if I'd like to be tested and referred me to the breast clinic to have a chat. This was November 2019.
Skip ahead to March 2020 and I get invited to the Breast Clinic to meet the Family History team. We spoke through my family history and what steps would be taken now for me. This would involve a consultation with Southampton, followed by a blood test. Simple! Unfortunately not, Covid had other ideas and the world closed.
July 2020 I had a video consult with Southampton and it was agreed whilst we waiting to see what Covid and the world did, I’d be treated as if I was a carrier and undergo annual screening. Seemed the sensible approach given the world at the time and it’s better to be safe than sorry.
November 2020, I have my first breast MRI scan. No Mammogram for me as I was too young.
Christmas comes and goes and in January 2021 I get a call for another MRI, no explanation given. I just thought I hadn’t put my tiny boobs in the machine well enough for a good reading, so off I went for another MRI.
May 2021 - I get a call from the Breast Clinic asking to come for an ultrasound. Again, nothing mentioned, no reason why. I headed up on a Thursday evening by myself, telling the husband that I wont be long and I’ll be back in time to help put the kids to bed. Let’s just say I was not home to put the kids to bed.
I went into my appointment and as I sit on the bed, the consultant says, “so we are just going to check this area of concern”. That was the first time I’d heard that there was anything to be concerned about. The second MRI, and now ultrasound, were all as a result of them finding something on the first MRI back in November 2020, and now only in May 2021 was I being told. What was going on?! My body went into shock as the radiographer tried to locate the area. Unfortunately the area of concern was quite far back against my chest wall and was hard to locate with the ultrasound. They then said they needed to take a biopsy, but given the difficulty in finding it or even feeling it, the biopsy might not be enough and they would have to consider sending me to the UK for an MRI guided biopsy. The issue was they’d never sent anyone and would have to find a hospital that would be able to do the procedure.
So there I am alone, on a Thursday night, in shock laying on a table, topless, holding a strangers hand as they do the biopsy, leaving a marker to see if they’d been successful. The biopsy was sent off to be tested, and I was sent home to wait.
I honestly can’t remember how long I waiting for the results but the good news was it was negative for any signs of cancer, what they had to determine now was had they got the area. So back in the MRI scanner I go, my 3rd in 7 months, I was beginning to be a pro now.
Then I had to wait!
I got the call “No sorry we didn’t get it so we will need to send you off to the UK.”
The next call I would receive would be one Saturday afternoon whilst out walking with my sister, a call from a random UK number. I answered, it was Northwick Park HOSPITAL in the UK saying they had an appointment the next Saturday at 3pm and could I make it. I was out walking, I didn’t know if I could get flights or who would come with me it was all a blur but I said yes and we rushed home to get stuff booked.
31 July I went to Northwick Park Hospital and had my MRI guided biopsy. I was in the machine for 90 minutes whilst they pulled me in / out to try and get the precise area to take the biopsy. My poor mum was in the waiting room thinking we’d only be 15 minutes.
Then we waited …. I got the call on 9th August asking if I could come in on 12th August at 1.10pm to meet with the Doctor and get my results. To say I was anxious was an understatement. My nerves were through the roof but I prepared myself to hear those words, in my mind I wouldn’t have gone through all this, all the MRI’s, the appointments, the waiting for nothing could I? Not that I wanted it to be something but I had to be prepared.
That morning my sister kept me busy. We went on a hike along the cliffs, grabbed coffee and then I waited. People came out before me looking fine, no tears, and then it was my turn.
I walked in to the room with my husband and mum, sat down and he said it “ I am sorry Mrs Hammond, its breast Cancer” I had prepared myself to hear the words so I didn’t cry, but beside me my mum broke down and my husband held my hand tight.
I think the fact I did not cry came as a shock to the Doctor who looked at me with his deepest sympathies’. The moment I broke down was when he told me the plan for treatment - chemotherapy followed by surgery. The type of chemotherapy to be confirmed once they knew which type of Breast Cancer it was.
This is when I broke down, the unknown road ahead of me. The thought of losing my hair, looking sick and frail like cancer is always portraited on medical tv shows. I’d grown up with ER and Greys Anatomy. I was only 32, with two kids, a 4 year old and soon to be 2 year old. The doctor turned to me and said, “please don’t worry you aren’t going to die”. My immediate response to this was ‘oh I’m not going anywhere” and from that day on I knew I had to use all those emotions to focus on the good, to be positive and fight this because I was not going to die.
The next test for me a CT scan to check it had not spread. Then to meet with the Oncologist for the results and confirm the treatment plan. We also did the BRCA test, a simple blood test and thankfully they agreed it could now be done in Guernsey.
Three weeks after being diagnosed I started Chemotherapy for Triple Negative Breast Cancer “TNBC” - very common for BRCA carriers ... 11 September 2021. The chemotherapy plan was 3 rounds of Epirubicin Cyclophosphamide (“EC”) and the 3 rounds of Paclitaxel Carboplatin (“PC”). These rounds would be every 21 days. The EC is so strong that it had to be administered by hand via syringe. The poor nurse would sit there for 90 minutes dispensing it via my PIC line that had been inserted in the lead up to Chemo.
What now sits in the site of my PIC line scar is a Lotus flower tattoo, my first one, with a meaning of strength, resilience and rebirth.
I decided to cold cap in an attempt to keep my hair. I lost around 95% of my hair still but it was worth it in the end. My hair is back better than It was before ( my hair dresser is in awe) and no chemo curl for me. Putting up with the extra time in the chair each week and the brain freeze to me was worth it. I couldn’t bring myself to shave my head.
During treatment I got the call from Southampton to confirm I was a BRCA carrier. It all made sense and I would have been more surprised if they had said I didn’t have it. Another one in the family … this also meant my children could be carriers.
After Chemotherapy I had another MRI and it was confirmed that I had had a fully pathological response to chemotherapy and there was no sign of any cancer.
Next steps was surgery and I decided to go big and opt for a double mastectomy, given that I was a BRCA carrier it would significantly reduce my risk of having breast cancer again. The surgery I had was DIEP flap reconstruction and for this I had to go to London. I isolated alone in the UK for a week before heading to hospital, alone, for major surgery which took 14 hours, and then spend a further 5 days in hospital, alone before being collected by my Mum and Sister who brought me back home to Guernsey. It was the longest I had been away from my husband and children ever.
After Surgery I was declared officially cancer free – I had not trace in my lymph nodes and it had not spread.
We never told the children I had cancer, and still to this day they don’t know (now 9 & 5). We decided to just tell them mummy was not very well and in order to get better I needed some super strong medicine which would make mummy sicker and loose her hair but in the end mummy would come out strong and healthy. I didn’t want to tell them the word Cancer as to me the word cancer brings fear. I never wanted them to say something in the playground and then a friend say “ oh my granddad died of cancer” and they feared I would die, because I was not.
In time when they are older we will sit down and tell them.