Check it out

I had seen a lot of advertising exhorting women to check their breasts for a lump in case of breast cancer. As a male, I never made the link.

Words: Michael McMenamin

I had noticed a lump on my left breast for a fair while and my first mistake was to not to take it seriously. My second mistake was not to get a second opinion. My third mistake was … well in a strange kind of way I did get it checked out again and in a strange kind of way I was very lucky.

One night I awoke with a severe pain in my left chest, arm tingling, sweating profusely and I was finding it hard to breathe. I have always dreaded a heart attack because they seem to me to be so damned inconvenient and a heart attack will always happen at the worst possible time, so I convinced myself I was all right. The pain continued so at 2.00 a.m. I got on the Internet and Googled ‘heart attack’. I had a few of the symptoms. I decided to drive to Palmerston North Hospital’s A&E.
I entered saying, “I think I’m having a heart attack,” and I got the full response. Within an hour of testing, my heart was pronounced healthy and I was apologising for my hypochondria … that was when I got lucky. The doctor on duty noticed the lump in my breast and enquired if I had had it checked.
“No, I was told it is just a cyst of some sort.”
“You should get it checked, to eliminate the possibility of breast cancer.”
“No need, men don’t get breast cancer.”
The doctor gave me a look, and to her eternal credit she booked me in for a biopsy the following week.
As well as a biopsy and a CT-scan, I had the experience of a mammogram. Yes, women are correct – it hurts. It was a rather funny scene as the radiographer was trying to get enough breast into the x-ray press so that the mammogram could be done.
The appointment with the surgeon and nurse to discuss the results of the biopsy was one of those life-changing moments. At first I thought the surgeon was joking, as it never entered my mind I would have cancer. But the serious look and the repetition of “you have breast cancer” (or words to that effect as my disbelief meant I wasn’t really listening to the words) made the atmosphere in the room rather serious. I made a few flippant responses expressing that they must be wrong. But they continued to be very clinical explaining how they would cut the cancer out and started using words such as ‘chemotherapy’ and ‘radiation’ and … it was quite unreal. This was not happening and I wasn’t really listening.
To their credit, Palmerston North Hospital has a support breast care nurse who is very good at her job. She was the contact person who answers the questions you think about later; she was the distributor of pamphlets and advice and most importantly she was the link among surgeons, nurses, chemo-therapists, radiologists and oncologists. In my view she was most valuable as she dealt with that area called ‘emotions’, and it was great to have someone to turn to for advice, or to get things done. Through the whole process I was always impressed with the ones who cared, or at least acted like they cared. It is an important point. Professionals need to do their job well but they’ve also got to care – the good ones want to make a difference in people’s lives. In fact during the whole process people did their skilled jobs (cutting me, nursing me, feeding me with chemicals and irradiating me) but it was the professionals who cared that made the difference – it was a good experience to meet people like that.
They did well. The surgery was done and I had a drain as my companion. The odds of getting rid of the cancer were 78% if I had chemotherapy and radiation, 60% if I didn’t have the treatment, so that was an easy decision. I liked the way they gave me a lot of information and I also learned a lot from the Internet. I knew what to expect and it happened. I was not prepared though to see the large number of other people diagnosed with cancer – I had no idea it was so prevalent and I was especially surprised with the large proportion of cancer fighters who were younger women.
How did I react? Well, after the initial shock, disbelief, feeling sorry for myself and anger at why it had happened to me, I found that the surface and physical stuff didn’t really matter. I was almost bald anyway (although having no body hair was a new experience) and I have no emotional attachment to my ‘man boob’ (in fact it was too large anyway). The tiredness, nausea, ‘chemo brain’ and pain were debilitating, but for me it was the emotional reaction that was the hardest to deal with including:
• The effect on my partner and loved ones.
• The concern about the future impact on
my job.

And of course the big question: what if I die?

It has been two years now since my diagnosis of breast cancer. I am enjoying my job and my health is good. I take a daily pill called Tamoxifen (whoever invented that pill is a genius) and I get six-monthly check ups, which have all been encouraging.

So the message is clear for all men – CHECK YOUR BREASTS FOR LUMPS. There are few men affected by breast cancer, but it can happen and obviously you do not want to delay a diagnosis. Go to the doctor if you have any hint of a lump on your breast, as early detection makes a difference.

Michael McMenamin is into his second year as Headmaster of New Plymouth Boys’ High School. At the time of being diagnosed with breast cancer Michael was Principal of Greyberg High School in Palmerston North. Michael has been involved in education for 35 years and has taught throughout New Zealand.

Michael McMenamin