For Norma Moller, a successful 42-year-old psychologist in private practice and mother of two lively pre-teenagers, life was rolling along quite happily. Despite the usual ups and downs she was, to quote the popular US family TV soapy, “Mostly Happy”.
Then almost intuitively, she went for a cautionary check-up in November 2010. A sonar showed an irregularity in her breast, something her mammogram had missed. There was no history of cancer in her family. However, two subsequent needle biopsies showed it to be cancer. “I went from total shock and disbelief to a strong realisation that I might die,” she recalls. And so, she strapped herself in for what turned out to be 11 months of chemo and radiation therapies, followed by five years of daily oral meds and once-monthly injections. It was to be an ultimately successful roller coaster treatment journey that left her wiser, more disciplined and with an unprecedented determination to nurture and take care of herself.
“I really believe you can do a lot in terms of managing your immune system by looking at what you put into your body, by getting enough sleep and exercising. Before I was diagnosed, it wasn’t so much that I was eating too much of the wrong stuff, but that there wasn’t enough of the right stuff,’ she says with the benefit of hindsight.
Slowly, with the help of an empathic and decisive surgeon who engendered confidence, she realised her breast cancer wasn’t a death sentence at all. “Once the emotion settled I got more pragmatic and, in a strange way, I was quite motivated to deal with it. I decided I was going to throw everything I had at it - a positive attitude plus all that modern medicine, homeopathy and naturopathy had to offer,” she recalls.
After the lump was surgically removed, Norma had a specific genetic test done for early stage breast cancer – a tissue biopsy of the tumour was sent to a laboratory overseas for precise genetic sampling of the cancer. This armed her treating specialists with additional clinical information guiding precision in prescribing a treatment protocol.
As the genetic test showed the cancer to be of the kind that has a high risk for recurrence, full chemotherapy and radiation treatment was indicated, giving Norma the best possible prognosis. Hers was an oestrogen-receptor positive cancer, making it possible to add a five-year protocol of daily Tamoxifen and monthly Zoladex, both of which suppress oestrogen production. The downside was that the treatment brought on early menopause, resulting in hot flashes and little sleep. A small dose of a very specific anti-depressant was prescribed, not for depression but because one of its side-effects was to prevent hot flashes. Much to Norma’s relief this treatment worked. Sleep was critical to enduring the turbulent nausea and immunity challenges, not to mention Cortisone’s side effects.
The minimum six-month cycle of four chemo treatments, during which time all her hair fell out, took two months longer than expected as her body struggled to adapt to the dosages. Constant blood counts were the norm as doctors checked when it was safe for her to return for chemo. With chemo done, she finally got a couple of weeks “off” to get her strength back in preparation for the radiation treatment, which took just over a month and a half.
Norma recalls practicing mindfulness while sitting in the blue Lazy-Boy chairs in the chemotherapy room, taking in all her fellow patients around her.
Today she’s at about 70 percent of her in-treatment discipline of daily green juicing which involves juicing mainly green vegetables and herbs with a bit of green fruit to produce a drink that promotes alkalinity in the body, which is associated with a state of health where acidity in the body is linked to inflammation and disease. She’s cut out sugar and dairy and she’s also back to her daily jogging.
Norma recounts what helped her stay determined and positive. Her surgeon took control and was firm, always available and caring. “He never left me with any uncertainty and would draw pictures if that’s what it took to make sure I understood. He was punctual and never let anything interrupt a consult,” she recalls. Her husband, Francois, who works in the financial sector, had just landed in London on business when she originally called him to say she had tested positive for breast cancer. He climbed on the next plane home. “In my whole life, I’ve never been as cared for as I was by my husband when I had cancer. He was such a super-star”. He chuckled alongside when she took him up on a dare to use her hair loss as an opportunity to have a henna tattoo emblazoned on her bald head. The husband of a cousin of hers, who happens to be a paediatric oncologist cousin at the Red Cross War Memorial Children’s Hospital called her upon hearing the news. Rendered sage by his heart-wrenching day-job, he gave her an unforgettable piece of advice to let other people carry you, especially because you’re used to doing the carrying. Says Norma contritely, “I had to learn to deal with that.”
He had more to offer. “He said that when those around me wondered what to say or do to tell them to bring food. I’ll never forget that. People literally worked out a schedule to bring us food. We had these amazing suppers. Their generosity and love carried me a lot. You could taste the love in the food,” she recalls.
Financially, a combination of their initial healthcare plan later converted to a Discovery Hospital Plan in 2015 (with an oncology benefit) covered nearly all of their expenses, except for part of the hospital bill and the genetic test, homeopathy and naturopathy treatments. “It’s certainly a wake-up call to have some form of professional indemnity cover in place. I have a friend who went through the same thing and she had such a policy. It paid her out a huge sum of money which made it possible for her not to work for several months,” Norma says.
“It’s been a very personal journey,” says Norma. “I’m glad I took the treatment options I did. I now have a new awareness about eating the right stuff.” During her chemo and radiation spells, she read Anticancer: a new way of life by Dr David Servan-Schreiber which highlighted the value of sleep, stress reduction techniques, nutrition and exercise and which she highly recommends reading. Post-treatment, Ariana Huffington’s Thrive is next on her supportive literature list.
Norma sees her cancer as something that has taught her the need to love and look after herself, to be an expert when it comes to her body and to seek out good, supportive people.
“But things still fluctuate. It’s not like you had cancer and you didn’t learn. It’s just that it’s hard to maintain the learnings. My annual check-up is still the worst day of my year, because of the fear of relapse. But they got all the cancer surgically when they removed the 13mm diameter tumour and there was no spread to my lymph nodes. Ever since my surgery six years ago, I’ve been clean if you can call it that. I also have no scar on my breast,’’ adds Norma.
She counts herself much more grateful today and perhaps even a bit more than mostly happy.