How breast cancer changed my life - for the better

Four very inspirational women tell us about their journey with the dreaded disease - and why they have no regrets

Every 1.7 minutes, a woman is diagnosed with breast cancer worldwide - 25 per cent of who are less than 50 years old. That is a statistic one might consider almost insane. But devastating though the 'C-word' is, women the world over are beating the odds to tell their stories - not just about how cancer changed their lives forever but, incredibly, how it may also have been for the best. Here are some of the UAE's own fighters:
Brigitte Chemla
Iwas diagnosed in October 2007 (during breast cancer awareness month, ironically!). I'd been going for yearly checkups since my forties, since it is mandatory back home in France. When I moved to Dubai in 2006, I got caught up with the hectic pace of life here, and missed my annual checkup that year.
In 2007, my left breast started to get very painfully itchy. I went to see a doctor but, unfortunately, she just prescribed a cream and sent me home. I was fortunate that the cancer was painful for me - it isn't for most women - because it made me go to a gynaecologist, who was visibly shocked as she examined me. She understood straightaway that it was going to, most probably, be cancer.
Everything happened very quickly after that. The next morning, she managed to get me an appointment with the renowned Emirati breast surgeon Dr Houriya Kazim, which was extremely difficult, because it was October - and you don't get a last minute appointment with Dr Houriya in October.
I underwent all the required tests. Even at that point, I wasn't really afraid, because it just felt like another examination to me. But when she called to tell me that it was cancer, everything around me collapsed. I was at work at the time; I left straightaway. All I remember is lying, curled up like a baby, on the couch, frozen and unable to move all night. It was the worst day of my life. My first reaction was to ask what I'd done to deserve this. I wasn't perfect but, surely, I hadn't been so bad as to deserve cancer. A friend of mine stayed awake with me the entire night. I found it impossible to move. but, by morning, I'd decided to fight.
My cancer was very aggressive. I had surgery to remove the tumour, a biopsy (it was determined to be Stage 4 cancer), and immediate mastectomy and chemotherapy. I was lucky to have my breast reconstruction done the same day as well. I say "lucky" because to wake up and find you have no breasts is very traumatic, as a woman, and I know so many who went through a really rough time because they had to wait a while before the procedure could be done.
I cannot describe the chemo... but I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. It is, what I call, an "awful lifesaver" and it brought with it severe vomiting, nausea and exhaustion; so much so that, at one point, I couldn't even carry my sunglasses. I lost complete faith in myself - and my body.
By 2010, I'd joined the Brest Friends support group; there, I met a lady who did karate and invited me to a class. I scoffed at the idea of myself doing martial arts but she was so insistent, I went along just to please her. The energy of the class really inspired me - because it was precisely what I'd lost. I signed up that night itself, got my black belt four years later, and I'm now going for my second Dan (ranking) this month.
In 2013, I happened to see another friend ballroom dancing and it was so beautiful that I signed up for that too. I've been dancing competitively for two years now; I went to Austria last, and I'll be going to Paris next. I started scuba diving not long after and have got my advanced open water certification now. I bought a quad and love riding it on the dunes.
Every single sport I do is part of who I am - and who I wasn't when I got the cancer. I've always been a sporty person, but life goes on, and other things take priority. You forget who you are. Cancer reminded me of everything I wanted to be. The diagnosis was the worst shock ever - but it was what I needed to go back to who I am.
What I've realised is: I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow. Getting cancer makes you realise that it is all about 'now'. What will happen tomorrow is not in my hand - it is not even my business.
I had my last checkup recently and Dr Houriya emailed me to say I've never been so healthy. And it's true. It's possible to have a life after cancer - a wonderful life. But, for that, you have to open yourself to the idea. I know many people who had cancer and went the other road: the route of depression and hopelessness. We have to know that we can take our lives back.
I took every single opportunity along this absolutely awful road to turn it around and make it a good one. You can mourn and feel sorry for yourself, but what will you get from that? Nobody can help you if you won't help yourself. We have to take every last opportunity because, otherwise, it will become part of the past - and what can we do about the past?
When you have cancer, you feel like there is something foreign in your body, and like your body doesn't belong to you anymore. The fact that your body allowed something foreign to get inside - to kill you from the inside - will make you feel like you're not in control of it anymore. To come back from that is a very long road. And I was lucky to find my way.
Apart from all those activities I took up, I also went dogsledding in the Arctic, and opened my own company last year. I did all of that to prove to myself that this is my body and it does what I want it to. The big moment was when I got that all-clear email from my doctor the other week. That's when I told myself: "I've got you, my dear. You belong to me again."
Katherine Journiac
I'd gone for a routine checkup on May 16 last year as I was leaving France to join my husband in Dubai. Incredibly, they found a lump. and it was cancerous. It was especially shocking because I'd had no symptoms till then. Thankfully, it was detected early (the tumour was just 1cm in size) and I was able to take all the necessary steps - surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy - immediately.
I stayed back in France with my children and underwent the standard chemo procedure that's about five months long. It was pretty horrendous. The treatment weakened me; I felt very sick and nauseous. My hair fell out in clumps two weeks after the chemo, which was the hardest thing for me. But I did every alternative therapy I could to help my body heal and recover. People would look at me and say I looked fantastic. My wonderful hairdresser gave me a beautiful wig that I loved wearing. And I lost about 10 kilos in the process - so I suppose those are all little silver linings that came with the experience.
More than anything though, cancer changed my character. I was always a positive person but I feel like I'm a lot more appreciative of things now. Little things that used to upset me before don't bother me now either. I just take a deep breath and try not to explode. And it works. I'm also far more assertive - something I really needed to be. I never knew how to say "no" before. But when I got cancer, I had to prioritise. think of myself first and be more assertive - especially on the work front.
I had two bosses at the European Court of Human Rights; one of them was very demanding and she'd often ask me to do things that she shouldn't. Yet, I felt like I couldn't say no to her. And so, I'd do everything she asked. It was a tricky situation.
Cancer tends to put things in perspective though. I couldn't believe it happened to me. But when I think of it now, I see it as a test; a journey I had to go through that changed my life, my perception of the world, and my relationships with other people. What if I hadn't gone through it? I'd probably still be getting walked over today. So, it's been an enormous learning curve.
The other thing I've changed is the way I eat. I had a very stressful job before and wouldn't really have time to prepare healthy meals. But I believe now that a lot of cancer is brought on by what we eat, so I've become a lot more experimental, and aware of the food I eat.
Cancer is a scary, emotional rollercoaster. But you've got to tell yourself it's going to be okay. Always stay positive - because it can be fought. There were plenty of tears for me, but I'm laughing, and a new person, now. How you think has a lot to do with the recovery process. You just have to hang in there and try to make the best of a bad situation.
Priyanka Gupta
It was 2003 and I was just recovering from a bout of tuberculosis when I learnt I had cancer. It definitely wasn't the best timing.
A friend of mine had casually advised that I do a check, since I was in my forties at the time. The doctor knew immediately that something was wrong. It was Grade 2 cancer: slow, tiny, but very aggressive.
The shock of that finding was great; in that moment, I couldn't speak and I couldn't cry. The magnitude of it hit me when I got home though, and there, I cried my eyes out. My kids were really young at the time, and the future was suddenly horribly uncertain. I didn't know what was going to happen. But I eventually calmed down, and told myself: if I could accept life's joys so readily, I should be able to accept its sorrows too. I discovered the power of positive thinking that day and it really got me through the whole ordeal.
It was an ordeal - but I don't regret it happened. Having cancer changed everything for me: my attitude, my pride. I became stronger, and learned to tackle problems better. Those initial days were really tough, but I learned that all things are possible with determination.
I kept myself busy with hobbies and friends, and consciously surrounded myself with a lot of positivity. I went to the health club, learnt to golf, did a lot of yoga and meditation, went skydiving. All because I realised sitting at home and crying about it was not going to solve my problems. Actually, problems are a lot lighter - and easier to handle - when you're not feeling down in the dumps.
I come from Mumbai where, back in 2003, nobody wanted to talk about cancer. Everybody preferred to hide the news, if they had it. I even met someone in a waiting room once, who was hiding his chemo treatments from his immediate family back home. It made no sense to me. Cancer patients need all the support they can get - and that only happens when you talk about it, especially now, with the shockingly high incidence of the disease. That's also how you meet inspirational people, like my friend who had Stage 4 cancer and fought it with all she had. She's been clear for 16 years now!
If you are strong on the inside, that's almost half the battle won.
Julia Selinger
I was diagnosed with breast cancer in May 2012. It had metastasised into my lymphatic system but, thankfully, nowhere else. I had an extremely aggressive and somewhat uncommon form of breast cancer known as Triple Negative, which is negative for all hormone receptors. Only approximately 15 per cent of breast cancers are triple negative, and there are no known targeted therapies or drugs for it, unlike other forms of breast cancer. The only treatment is an extremely harsh and aggressive chemo regimen, followed by a long cycle of radiation, which I underwent following surgery.
Luckily for me, the UAE has world-class medical personnel and facilities, and I am eternally grateful to these dedicated, highly skilled doctors and nurses for saving my life.
Although my family has a history of many types of cancer, I was the first one to have breast cancer. It felt very surreal to be diagnosed with it, and I could barely believe it. It took some time to truly sink in, and I dealt with it by staying incredibly busy, first with cancer-related personal research, and later with various service projects.
So many things changed for me at this time, it felt like my life was totally upside down and often out of control. The physical and mental changes caused by my cancer and its treatments were all-encompassing, affecting every aspect of my life. A bald, sickly-looking stranger stared back at me in the mirror every time I looked into it, and I felt even worse than I looked. Worst of all was the fear. The thought of leaving my young children (who were six and nine at the time) motherless was utterly devastating.
My greatest struggle was trying not to scare my children, and maintaining the best possible semblance of normal life that I was capable of. I poured all my energy into hiding my suffering, and striving not to transmit my pain and fear to them.
But my journey with cancer also taught me many positive things - things I thought I already knew but never put as fully into practice as I now do. Today, I try to live life to the fullest, taking advantage of all my blessings and opportunities. I'm a more patient and compassionate person. I realise that the people I love are my greatest treasures, and appreciate them as such. Akin to the proverbial rose-coloured glasses, everything is a little more vivid, and it is much more apparent to me that the extraordinary might always be found in the seemingly ordinary. Most of all, I try to be someone my children will be proud of. Everything can change in a heartbeat and I've realised I can't take anything for granted.
The power of positive thinking is very real, in my opinion, and it follows that our thoughts affect our health. Having said that, a cancer diagnosis is not a walk in the park, and all the positivity in the world could not have made my chemo easy. There are many different types of breast cancer, different stages, and different medical approaches regarding surgeries and treatments. There are also many types of chemo drugs, administered in different dosages, and some treatments are, therefore, more difficult to tolerate than others.
To all my fellow cancer fighters, I'd say: look for your inspiration in not only what gratifies you, even as you serve others, but what speaks to your convictions and your passions. Openly express your love and gratitude. Face your fears in order to conquer them, so you don't miss a minute of this life. And tell lots of jokes (even if they're bad!), because humour really is the best medicine. - karen@khaleejtimes.com 

"Having had cancer, one important thing to know is you're still the same person at the end. You're stripped down to near zero. But most people come out the other end feeling more like themselves than ever before." 
Kylie Minogue
Grammy-award winning Australian singer Kylie Minogue was only 37 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, but her 2005 diagnoses was followed by intense media coverage, which French Cultural Minister Christine Albanel famously famously described as the 'Kylie Effect' which 'encourages more women to have regular checks'. Since her remission, she has become a powerful ambassador and sponsor of the cause.   
"Now I have a third must-do on my list of things to do with cancer, and it's this: follow your gut, ask questions, don't be complacent."  
Cynthia Nixon
The Sex and The City star Cynthia Nixon, has seen both sides of the story, as her mother is a breast cancer survivor as well. The actress has admitted that at first she was not keen to make the information public, but as time passed, realised that she could inspire other women who were at risk of cancer by telling her story. She is not only an active advocate for awareness but also an ambassador for Susan G. Komen for the Cure, a non-profit organization dedicated to ending breast cancer
"Cancer is an opportunity to sit down and look into yourself and find the answers. Yes, it's serious, but it's not the end-all." 
Melissa Etheridge
This American singer-songwriter was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2004, but didn't even let that stop her from making public performances; during the 2005 Grammy awards where she performed onstage although bald from chemotherapy. She had to undergo five rounds of chemotherapy and radiation, but after recovering has committed herself to keeping her body fit and healthy, and thinking positively. 
"I posed bald for the cover it because I know there are women out there who literally will say no to chemo because they're so worried about losing their hair. That astonishes me because what's the alternative? I'm totally 100 percent bald right now. But at some point, my hair is going to grow back and I'll bet you that a year from now, I'll look back on this as like a little curve in the road. It won't define me and I'll go on and I'll be here for my children and my husband." 
Joan Lunden
Former co-host Joan Lunden's father was a cancer surgeon but she admitted to never having guessed that her annual mammogram's results be negative. However, she took immediate action and underwent chemotherapy. She has now made it her mission to help other women fight breast cancer and has writes motivational books such as and .
"Early detection is everything. It's what saved my life. If you detect breast cancer early, you have a 98 percent five-year survival rate."
Giuliana Rancic
<E! News> host Giuliana Rancic discovered she was in the early stages of breast cancer at the age of 36, while trying to get pregnant. She had no family history of breast cancer and has admitted that she was dragging 'kicking and screaming' for the mammogram that eventually saved her life.  
"People go through challenging moments of losing people and of having their life threatened from illness and real grief. But they get through it. And that's the testament to the human spirit and it's. we are fragile, but we also are divine."
Sheryl Crow
The American singer was diagnosed with breast cancer the week she ended her relationship with Lance Armstrong, a fellow cancer survivor. Crow had no family history of breast cancer, nor did she have any signs or symptoms - her cancer was detected only because of her yearly mammogram. Because of this she managed to avoid chemotherapy altogether!
"People should be afraid of the cancer, not the mammogram."
Nancy Reagan
Former actress and the wife of US President Ronald Reagan, Nancy Reagan, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 1987. She opted subsequently opted to undergo a mastectomy. The First Lady's influence can be seen in the fact that her surgery sparked an increase in the percentage of women opting to have mammograms.

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