As my fourteenth wedding anniversary approached and the world prepared for the millennium celebrations, my entire focus was on my family, my husband and our three beautiful boys, the youngest of whom had just turned one. At 36 years old, I was healthy and had no reason to think about cancer. When I first noticed a lump in my left breast, I brushed it off. I delayed seeing a doctor, convinced that something like this could never happen to me, and went straight into denial.
The doctor referred me for a mammogram, resulting in a lengthy medical report that introduced terrifying new terms to my life: DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ), nodes, stages, and grades. Following painful biopsies, my histopathology results arrived three weeks later, confirming my worst fears. I sank deeper into denial, continuously asking, “Why me?” and feeling as though I was being uniquely targeted and punished. At the surgeon’s office, I was devastated to learn I needed a mastectomy. Five months, six chemotherapy cycles, and twenty radiotherapy sessions later, I adjusted to wearing breast prostheses. Unfortunately, the cancer returned, forcing me to undergo further surgeries and treatments in 2004 and 2007.
As gruelling as my breast cancer experience was, it ultimately changed my life. I researched the disease, connected with Hospice Malta, joined a support group, and formed deep bonds with other women facing the same battle. It was through this network that I met Helen Muscat. A seasoned healthcare professional, qualified breast care nurse, and eventually a breast cancer patient herself, Helen became my confidante, lifeline, and mentor.
Helen inspired me to actively improve the local healthcare services available to patients. In 2007, we co-founded the Action for Breast Cancer Foundation. Our first objective was to overhaul the breast prosthesis service; the poor-quality products provided for free at the time felt like an insult to a woman’s dignity. We launched a successful advocacy campaign that eventually saw the service transferred to a dedicated breast clinic. We also coordinated major lobbying efforts to provide the targeted therapy drug Herceptin (HER2) free of charge, marching through the streets of St. Julian’s and Valletta while chanting, “Give her life, give HER2.”
Helen and I grew incredibly close, speaking openly about our deepest fears, embarrassments, and sexuality. Her parting advice to me was always, “Esther, we have to move on and never look back.” I was overjoyed when she was awarded the Medalja għall-Qadi tar-Repubblika on Republic Day in 2012. Sadly, she passed away on October 19, 2013, leaving behind a profound sense of loss and devastation. I struggled with survivor’s guilt, frequently wondering, “Why did she die? Why am I the lucky one?” To honour her enduring legacy, we published a book titled ‘HER WAY, Helen’s inspiration to Life’
In October 2023, I faced a new challenge when the cancer relapsed in my spine, escalating my diagnosis to stage four metastatic breast cancer. While this news was deeply devastating, I am incredibly grateful that despite the frequent scans and hospital visits, my condition is currently stable. I continue to face my ongoing journey with dignity, grace, and continued spiritual growth.
2022 …42 years old, mothering 5-year-old twin boys and another 6-year-old son largely single-handedly following marital separation just months earlier. We were on our first-ever holiday in Gozo, enjoying ourselves following painful marital breakdown. Towards the end of the holiday, just before putting the boys to sleep, my hand incidentally brushed against a big lump in the inner part of my breast….my heart missed a beat. I immediately realised something was wrong. I told the kids about it as they are my closest relatives, in spite of their very tender age. I couldn’t sleep at all. The first thing I did the following morning was a call to schedule an appointment privately for an ultrasound, which was immediately followed by a biopsy and consequently the most-dreaded result. It was indeed breast cancer which needed to be removed through a mastectomy. I was completely unfamiliar with cancer at the time since I have no family history whatsoever, and utterly scared of it all. Also, I did not want to disclose my diagnosis with anyone. I was devastated, and utterly disappointed with life!
What followed was an MRI, which showed spread to a lymph node. This required another biopsy and further scans to check for spread in other parts of the body. Meanwhile, I tried as best I could to maintain normality at home for the kids, even though I was incredibly stressed. I lost a lot of weight. A single mastectomy ensued, which meant I ended up completely flat on one side. Needless to say, this sudden altered body image affected my self-confidence to a huge extent. And intensive psychotherapy was necessary to address the situation. I found most precious support from all the healthcare professionals, both at the Breast Clinic at Mater Dei Hospital and from all who I met at Sir Anthony Mamo Oncology Centre. Family members were there too to provide the necessary support so I could keep going in the circumstances.
During this time, my breast care nurse suggested I contact one of the local NGOs supporting breast cancer patients. And I arbitrarily messaged Esther Sant, chairperson and co-founder of Action for Breast Cancer Foundation (ABCF). She prepared me psychologically for my surgery, and later on, for adjuvant chemotherapy. She accompanied me to shave my hair off on New Year’s Eve ahead of starting chemo on 2nd January, and we shopped around for the most natural wig during the Christmas period. Esther even took the initiative to support me ahead of my eldest’s First Holy Communion scheduled five months later. This ensured I looked good enough for the occasion in spite of the ordeal I was going through.
I look back at my ‘chemotherapy months’ and smile. Most unexpectedly, I was never sick. I got on with life, albeit feeling lethargic at times. I was still there for my kids in their needs. SAMOC healthcare professionals became my ‘friends’ and I could feel the love and care I so desperately required. Esther and myself would go out for afternoon tea on a Saturday during the time, making sure I was dolled up. That was when she started me getting involved in Foundation work. It felt so good. Cancer didn’t feel a negative experience anymore. It became a positive experience from which I learnt so much!
2025 …At present, I’m very much involved in the Foundation activities and love supporting patients who approach me upon diagnosis. I try to be of support in the best way possible. This fills my heart with so much joy that I find impossible to explain. As opposed to how it all started, I’m proud to recount my story and how I managed to turn a most negative situation into a most positive one. I’m happy to be so alive and living to the full like never before! It is also worth noting how I managed to combine cancer with my area of specialisation at work, thus bringing my interests together for added ‘fun’! I’m proud of myself to have learnt how to seek opportunities for personal growth and development from negative life experiences. When life gives you lemons, make lemonade…..
If I could give one useful piece of advice, I would encourage patients to actively listen to what their healthcare professionals have to say about their specific situation, as they would know best. Additionally, in this highly technological age, it is of paramount importance to always seek the truth by consulting reputable sources.
