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Submitted by PatientsEngage on 4 October 2017

Cancer is not a death sentence. There is no rule that says a person who has cancer will die before one who hasn’t. Nandita Muralidhar, who had breast cancer, recounts how her cheerful and positive approach eased the gloom.

Cancer. The very word freezes one in one’s tracks, sends a shiver down the spine, brings up the memory of every sad movie you’ve seen…because it has been portrayed as the end, or at least the beginning of the end. Sad music, copious tears or a struggle towards an inevitable end. Scary? It does not have to be and is not.

Cancer is curable if detected early and treated. If you have flu once, you aren’t called a flu patient thereafter. Malaria, pneumonia, dengue, cholera… all can be fatal but don’t leave behind a label like cancer or for that matter AIDS does. But once again, cancer is curable.

The False Alarm

In December 2009, I had a lump in my right breast investigated. That was a sort of scary time, waiting for the diagnosis. I had discovered the lump while lying face down on the bed. At first I thought I was lying on some pen cap or something on the bed. When I looked on the bed, there was nothing there, so I did a self-examination.

I also got an FNAC (Fine needle aspiration cytology- basically, in layman's terms, they take a sample of the tumour via a needle.), biopsy, ultrasound, mammograms of both breasts. Two long days of wait later was the result. I was told it was a fatty cyst, nothing to worry about. Mammograms were clear! I was told that at my age (48) and the perimenopausal stage of life, it was common and it was called fibrocystic breast disease. What a relief! So I heaved a big sigh of relief and relaxed.

Fibrocystic Breast Disease or Breast Cancer

Three months later, I brought my mom for her check up to Adyar Cancer Institute, Chennai. She had been diagnosed with cancer again in January 2009, with a pea sized lump in the armpit. She had been treated hormonally for it. So in March 2010, I took her to Chennai. In the meanwhile, I had felt a tiny lump on the left side, but pacified myself. This had a name. It was fibrocystic breast disease, so I was not worried at all. Mummy’s check-up cleared her. Her lump had gone but she was to continue her treatment to be on the safe side. I casually mentioned the new lump to the doc, a family friend, who had checked up mummy. I also told her about the mammogram, FNAC and Fibrocystic breast disease.  She said since I was there, she might as well have a look at it.

If this had been a movie, the suspense music would have started the minute she palpated the lump. She started asking me questions - about any hurt, about pain, and all sorts of questions. And then, when I was about to put on my dress, she stopped me and called in the surgeon and asked her to check. While she was checking, both exchanged worried glances. I knew straight away that something wasn’t right. So I asked them to tell me in simple clear language what the matter was. “Nandita, it does not look good. We need to do a biopsy.” I agreed and they proceeded to take a sample on the spot (FNAC).

Two days later, the biopsy result was “suspicious for malignancy”. We decided on an MRI to make the picture clearer. It only muddled it further, because the result was “Resolving Abscess.” A repeat biopsy was decided upon. This time the doc said, “Nandita, the result has come. It’s positive.” 

Shifting Gear after the Breast Cancer Diagnosis

Like I said, time stood still. All the thoughts came crowding into my head. My daughter was in the seventh month of her first pregnancy. Mom had been with me because she had shown the signs of dementia. Hubby was in Mhow and due to retire later that year. So much. And then I called my daughter. Her reaction brought me back to mother earth and sanity. “OK, so it has been detected. Lucky you are there. What’s the next step?” (She confessed years later, that after putting down the phone she bawled her heart out.) I got a similar reaction from my mother. It’s the right place to be in, best doctors, early stage….and so on. All well. This was to set the tone for my attitude and strength and positivity from then on.  From that day onwards, I shifted gear and took one day at a time. I gave the SOS call to my brothers abroad. My elder brother came down, and between the two brothers, made arrangements to take Mummy back to Africa.

Lumpectomy or Mastectomy?

30 April 2010. The operation went off well. One condition I had laid down was that if the lump was found to be benign during the operation, only the lump should be removed (that's called Lumpectomy). If positive, then the doc could take a call and proceed with a full mastectomy (which is the removal of the whole breast). The procedure of sending the tumour to the path lab during the operation to be checked is called a 'frozen section'. They send the offending lump to the lab where it is examined under the microscope and result is conveyed back to the Doc in the OT. The whole mastectomy was done. Later on the doc informed me that they had removed all the lymph nodes too because they looked swollen. And that the future course of treatment would depend on the biopsy result of the whole lot of stuff removed.

Twelve days of hospitalization followed. No pain except when the physiotherapist put me through exercises to keep the muscles supple and to make sure all movement is regained. (God bless them. The trouble taken at that time has paid rich dividends thereafter.) I spent the time writing a diary and solving math puzzles. The doc told me that they had decided the course of action, that I would have 6 cycles of chemotherapy. Good news was that the nodes were clear, so no radiation. I did not realize the repercussions of this bit of news till months later.

Listen to Nandita share her views in the video below

And Then The Chemo Began

12 May was my first chemo. 3-4 big syringes full of the cocktail of drugs chosen were injected into the vein, followed by a 30 min IV drip. Though I was kept under observation for 6 to 8 hours and sent home, the reactions started just as we reached home. Non-stop vomiting. By the sixth time, we spoke to the doc who told us to head right back and get admitted. Three days later, I went home. I had to do regular blood tests to keep track of the blood count.

After 6 cycles I can tell you that the usual reactions I had. First three days nausea, then three days of extreme exhaustion, along with soreness in the mouth and the whole alimentary canal. The blood count used to drop in a week and then slowly climb back up and be normal by the 20th day. 21st day used to be the next injection.

If the blood count dropped below 3000 (normal range is 4000-6000), there were restrictions in the diet and extra care to be taken because of lowered immunity (no raw food, no food from outside).  Any fever over 100 degrees had to be conveyed to the hospital/docs. Luckily my appetite was ok.

And so began the see saw of chemo cycles and the after effects. Six cycles meaning six sessions of injections with a 21day gap. Each one followed almost the same pattern of after effects. Total hair loss by the second session (the knowledge that it would grow back was the biggest relief...and it did, about a month after the last cycle.). Some after effects I still have...minor aches and pains... but then I am alive, fit and happy. What more could I ask for?

How did I cope with Chemotherapy?

Someone asked me, how did you go in for the second and third injection knowing what it would bring along with it?  Ok so how does one deal with all the side effects?

I can give you a simple set of how to remain positive that I apply in my life.

  1. Focus on the positive. Don’t look at what’s going wrong, look at what’s going right. The bad things happening are because of the good treatment, so take it in your stride. There are two sides to each and every situation. Focus on the brighter side.
  2. I used to count down the chemo cycles. 6 in total. So 1 gone 5 to go, 2 gone 4 to go and so on. (Smaller goals, easier to achieve).
  3. On the way to the hospital once I saw a couple with leprosy, without fingers and toes, disfigured, out in the hot sun begging. Could I sitting in a car, driving out to a hospital complain? I had a lot to thank God for.
  4. Count every single blessing you have. Hands legs, fingers toes, and if you are reading this, eyes, education. We cannot complain.
  5. DO NOT overcomplicate things by looking too far into the future. Deal with each day as it comes. Take one step at a time, one day at a time.
  6. Don’t feel guilty about being sick. It’s a phase. It will pass.
  7. Yes, one fine day you too will be a source of strength to others.
  8. Helping others is the best medicine. I have one of my favourite sayings. When you dig another out of trouble, you create the hole in which to bury your own.
  9. Don’t compare yourself to one who has more or is healthier than you. When you are low, think of the hundreds or thousands who would die to have what you have. I mean, there are people suffering just like you are, but without any resources. Happiness comes from being thankful and content. Another favourite saying “I had no shoes and I complained and then I met a man who had no feet.”
  10. Hair fall, bald? Don’t worry. It grows back. Bad times will pass.

Life is not guaranteed. There is no rule that says a person who has cancer will die before one who hasn’t. How we deal with life is how our life will be. Stay cheerful, positive, appreciate all the good things happening, and leave the past behind and live in the present. Life is beautiful.

 

 

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