Cancer Story - Shanna
Cancer has not been a stranger to Shanna and her family: cancer took her mother's life 20 years ago; last November, at the age of 42, Shanna was diagnosed with breast cancer and this August, her first younger brother was diagnosed with cancer as well. Whilst she cannot imagine how things might be to leave behind her youngest brother with autism, Shanna is not letting the thought bring her down and below is the story she shared with an audience of 400 at The Fayre of St. John's 2017.
I was diagnosed with breast cancer last year, and even though cancer is no stranger to me since my mother died of cancer, I was totally unprepared. I couldn’t think of anything when I heard the news. Despite the care and concern from my family and friends, they couldn’t fully understand how I felt – but both my growing up experience and working environment made me independent and rational. Few days after my diagnosis, I came to a realisation that I know for a fact I will not die of this cancer this time. I truly had faith. Life has put me in tough situations one after another, and sometimes deep inside from my heart I do feel like I’m all alone in this world, but for me, it’s OK.
My cancer diagnosis was one of these tough situations and when the doctor told me I had to remove my breast, I asked myself, “Can I accept it if I only have one breast tomorrow?” Then I went on and sought a second opinion where I was advised to go on chemotherapy first at Tuen Mun Hospital, followed by surgery, reconstruction, and radiotherapy. I did and that’s how I learnt about Maggie’s Cancer Caring Centre.
After the first visit, I then became a frequent visitor at Maggie’s – what I like about the Centre is the sense of respect and care as soon as you step in. I didn’t expect anything from Maggie’s at the very beginning, but turned out I actually found my second home. People there, like the clinical psychologist, nurses, social workers, or even peer patients, are always here for me, willing to listen patiently and help me with struggles big and small on my cancer journey. Tips and advice from different classes too, help me with my sleeping problems and strengthen my healthy lifestyle. Support in aspects of such has helped me a lot to move on.
Before I even completed my treatments, however, my first brother was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer, the same one that Steve Jobs had. Up to the present moment, this is considered an incurable type of cancer. When I heard such a bad news, I was furious, I can’t help and I asked “why choose him but not me?!” He inherited faulty cancer genes from my mother. When he was only 20, in order to avoid the cancer, his colon and rectum had been removed. Now cancer knocks on his door again?! My heart just hurts so bad, I can only break down in tears and I don’t know what else I can do to help. And if he and I can’t make it far, what will happen to our baby brother?! I remember once my baby brother somehow picked up on my upcoming surgery, and he asked “sister, will you die?” I tried to comfort him and promised I wouldn’t, and briefly explained my situation. Then he asked again, “will you not come back out from the hospital?” This question made me shocked and reminded me that this was what happened to our mother, and I didn’t know what to say to him. I love my brothers so much and I do feel responsible for them, so I can’t afford to imagine how I could lose one of them, or leave the other one on his own.
Being a caregiver two decades ago, then a patient, a survivor, and now a caregiver again, after all of these, I’m able to think out of the box. I’m grateful that life doesn’t give you more than you can take. Cancer won’t let go of my family – my mother, myself and my brothers – but it also gave me a second family at Maggie’s. There I have people who could understand and walk the cancer journey with me. It is a comforting and safe place for me to drop my guard, to be my true self, and rebuild the sense of self-worth.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank the team at Maggie’s – you guys have made the unbearable actually bearable, and tears become smiles. Thank you for your patience, care, and professionalism. Last but definitely not least, thank you to every single one of you here tonight for being not only my audience but also my witness. I am standing here not because I want sympathy, but because I truly wish to turn this meaningful challenge for myself into something that can hopefully raise support for Maggie’s to keep its door open, for those who need the support as I did.