By BRIGHID MAXWELL
My name is Brighid Maxwell and I am 45 years old. My husband Graham and I live in Toowoomba, Queensland with our two boys, William (13 years) and Jack (8 years).
It was late December 2010. I found what I thought was just a blocked milk duct in my breast. I saw my GP but sat on the referral for a scan she gave me until the boys went back to school.
In February, I went for a mammogram. The scan showed the ‘blocked duct’ was a lump. A biopsy confirmed the lump was malignant. I was 42 and had early breast cancer. I was in shock.
I mentioned to my doctors an ache I had had off and on in my left shoulder blade, a pulled muscle I thought. However, an x-ray showed I had a pathological fracture.
It was a Saturday morning and my surgeon came to my house. He is such a caring man, but even he could not soften the news. He told me I had Stage 4 ‘advanced’ breast cancer – it had spread to my bones. There was no cure. I would always need treatment.
I felt numb. “I just can’t die, I can’t leave Will and Jack,” I kept thinking in disbelief.
Cancer took over my life. I attended a string of appointments and scans. I went in and out of hospitals. There was no time to think. I listened and I did what I was told.