On the road again for Breast Cancer with the Comrades Pink Drive
In March 2010 my worst fears were realized. After weeks of breathlessness, lower back ache and a sore chest, my medical team discovered that my breast cancer had moved to my left lung.
It was a crippling blow. I always knew that I was going to live with my HER2+ breast cancer diagnosis for the rest of my (probably short!) life, but somehow I’d always hoped and prayed for a miracle. Now it was obvious that there was going to be no miracle for me. The news was frightening.
Breast cancer was always a disease that happened to other people. Not me. Every now and then you’d hear of a friend of a friend who was diagnosed with breast cancer and you’d say “ag shame” and get on with your life.
In August 2006 this changed. I was diagnosed with Stage 3HER2+ breast cancer. The very aggressive one; the one that never lets you get away.
When you’re first diagnosed with cancer, you’re in a state of total shock. I now believe that I should have had a cycle of chemotherapy first to shrink the tumour before having a mastectomy. My first reaction was to have this tumour, this “thing” removed from my body so that I could carry on with my life.
It wasn’t so easy, even though I was very determined. Three weeks after my mastectomy, I was at a Madonna concert in Amsterdam with my husband, Paul. I was not going to compromise on my lifestyle. I was still going to have fun.
After twelve sessions of chemotherapy, Paul and I flew to Cuba to celebrate my return to health. I discovered a new lump on Day 3 in Havana. I was frightened. My determination to resume my fun-filled life suffered another blow.
So, what do I have to say now … after almost four years of living with breast cancer, three major surgeries, four rounds of hellish chemotherapy (comprising of at least forty IV drips), six months of intravenous Herceptin, radiation therapy that burned the skin off my body, the loss of my hair, eyebrows and eyelashes, expensive stereotactic radiation in Milan, Tykerb tablets that cost a small fortune, tears, disappointment, hope and fear?
I have learnt to take the bitter with the sweet. Hope is stronger than hopelessness. The mind is a powerful tool. I avoid negative people. It’s hard to stay positive, but I try my best. I have learnt to ride a Harley-Davidson and that, in itself, has opened a new world for me.
In between sessions of chemotherapy, tucked away in little corners of light and sunshine, lives the empowering knowledge that I can get on my Harley-Davidson and ride until I feel feathery-light, fearless and free. And I do this often. With my husband, friends and with other breast cancer survivors. And sometimes all alone with my thoughts.
I learnt to ride a Harley in 2008 when I participated in the Journey of Hope Breast Cancer Ride from Johannesburg to Cape Town. I managed to get my licence the day before the ride started. Ian Thompson from Clearwater Harley Davidson put me onto a 1200 Sportster, gave me slap on the bum and told me to “go for it.” I’ve never stopped. I’ve just kept on riding.
My friend, Amy Jansen, and I rode the Amazon Heart Thunder Breast Cancer Ride with 42 breast cancer warriors from five continents across 2000km in Australia in May last year. I did it on a hardcore 1600cc Rocker C. I was so proud of myself!
A few months later I rode a 1600cc Fat Bob through California - again with my Amazon Heart Thunder Sistas. Another empowering, amazing ride!
And of course, I was privileged enough to ride the Journey of Hope again last year (this time from Cape Town to Johannesburg) on my very own Harley – a 1600cc Dyna Super Glide.
My journey with breast cancer so far has taught me that no problems are insurmountable; that just when you think that your life is running smoothly, something unexpected happens that knocks the breath out of you.
After a while you learn that the easiest way forward is to take a deep breathe, dust yourself off and start all over again! This lung cancer hiccup will be the same. I’ve endured horrible treatment, thought I was going die, spent thousands of rands on medication, yet, at the end of the day it’s worthwhile to know that I send out a positive message when I ride my Harley. It gives people hope. With the Pink Drive I’m looking forward to having a fabulous ride through our beautiful country for a fantastic cause. We’ll create awareness of breast cancer and will encourage women from all walks of life to have mammograms that could save their lives.
When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I thought my life had come to an end, that I was going to die soon and that nothing would ever be the same again.
I ‘m still alive and kicking but nothing was ever the same again. Through the months and years of treatment; the mastectomy, chemo, radiation, no hair days and the discovery and treatment of new lumps, I have learnt to fight, to know that there will be setbacks on the road to recovery and to appreciate the gift of life more than ever.
I celebrate every single day that I’m alive. I appreciate my privileged existence; my loving husband; handsome sons, dear daughter-in-law, cleverest granddaughter in the world, wonderful mother, friends, family, silly dogs, my housekeeper Paulina who nursed me through chemo and my lovely Harley Dyna Glide. The list goes on and on …
What I don’t understand is why it took me so long to appreciate all of this - the beauty, the pain, the love. Why did I have to get breast cancer before I realized how precious my existence is; that appearances don’t matter; that it doesn’t matter how thin or how rich you are; which car you drive or where you live. What matters is how you choose to live your life. How you perceive the people around you, how you love them and receive and give graciously of your time, energy and knowledge. Life is too short to waste it on negative energy. That is why I wake up every morning, revive myself with a happy mantra and sometimes write in my journal, listing my blessings and the good things in my life. This is necessary, because sometime we stare ourselves blind against our pain and angst and forget to follow our bliss.
One of the joys of motorcycling is, strangely enough, stopping – either to visit places of interest or to admire a fabulous view, or just to flex your muscles and enjoy a cup of coffee. I try to do it all the time. Not just when I’m riding my Harley. Stop and smell those flowers every day. Grasp life with both hands.
With motorcycling comes an exhilaration that goes beyond horsepower. Your Harley allows you to be part of your environment and to experience it in a very intimate way. This is a dangerous hobby, so you’re required to use all your focus and concentration. It’s essential to always be in the “here” and “now”, because that’s all you have on a motorcycle – the here and now. Life intensifies when you’re balancing on two wheels and an engine. It keeps you alert and alive. And always right there in the moment.
If I have one thought to share, it would be this: live in the moment. Be aware of every second. It is so precious. Savour it. Enjoy it. Learn from my experience. You don’t have to wait until you get breast cancer to enjoy life to the brim.
On Wednesday, the 19th of May we’ll start the Pink Drive on our Harleys by accompanying two bright pink mobile breast cancer mammogram vans on their life-saving journey through some of South Africa’s most beautiful countryside. There will be six of us on our motorcycles. All women with breast cancer. Some of us are well now. In true female warrior fashion some of us have one breast … or no breasts. A few of us still have the disease. Some of us may have no hair. Some have lustrous locks. We are all different, but the same under our skins. We want to tell the tale of breast cancer. And we’ll tell it by participating in this incredible Pink Drive en-route to the 85th Commemorative Race of the Comrades Marathon 2010 . Our Pink Drive winds through the heartland of Kwazulu-Natal and we want to share our stories of hope and survival with as many people as we can.
We want to help save loves by encouraging women to have mammograms. Early detection saves lives.
We don’t know each other well yet. But by the end of the ride we would have shared a unique experience and will be bonded together forever. Breast cancer runs like a common thread through our lives. We are all breast cancer sisters. This dreadful disease brought us together on Harleys to create a greater awareness of breast cancer. It’s going to be a ride of a lifetime.
I‘m extremely excited and privileged to take part in this ride. We want all the women in this country to come journey with us in spirit. We want all women to check their boobs at least once a week and go for those mammograms. It can save lives. Be on the lookout for breast cancer.
Enjoy life. It’s like a Harley ride. It’s a daily adventure.