Stage 4 Breast Cancer Hasn't Kept This Mum-Of-4 From Living Fully

Early onset breast cancer – breast cancer occurring in women under the age of 45 – is on the rise. In Singapore, one out of six women diagnosed with breast cancer is under the age of 45. Women aged 20 to 39 are advised to do monthly breast self-examinations, while women between the ages of 40 and 49 are recommended to have yearly mammograms. If you notice a new lump in your breast, regardless of whether you are pregnant or nursing, get it checked by a specialist as soon as possible.

My entire world changed in late November 2022.

I felt a sudden pain under my right rib after work. I brushed it off initially, thinking maybe my clothes were too tight. The discomfort was bearable, but my husband reminded me that I had high pain tolerance – I didn’t complain even during childbirth – so it would be better to get it checked out.

I saw a GP the next morning, who observed that my liver was enlarged. Only a CT scan could confirm what was causing it, so I obediently checked into a private hospital. By 4pm or so, we received the news no one wanted to hear.

Over 70 per cent of my liver was filled with tumours. The tumour markers on my blood test were also extremely high. It was “easily stage 4”, according to the attending doctor. The pain I was feeling? It was from my enlarged liver pushing against surrounding organs.

I was in disbelief. I was 35 then. My four children were aged between two and 10 – it wasn't exactly the most convenient time to get such a diagnosis. No one else in the family except my grandmother had breast cancer, which she discovered and treated at an early stage.

And I was supposed to be competing in the Mrs Singapore Chinatown 2022 pageant days after – it was a challenge I had put myself up for, to learn to gain confidence, etiquette and grooming skills.

But there was no time to dwell and ruminate.

I had to do further procedures to determine the origin of the cancer, the result of which would take two weeks to determine. Rather than get a second opinion elsewhere, I quickly agreed to start chemotherapy, and we would tweak the medication later on.

It turned out that what I had was Stage 4 breast cancer, which had by then spread to my liver, lungs, lymph nodes, spine and brain.

“I ended up comforting my visitors.”

Everyone who came to see me at the hospital was visibly upset. Even the doctor looked stressed. Ironically, I was the one who told everyone I was okay. In fact, I was, even after seeing the results with my own eyes. Perhaps I hadn't yet processed my feelings.

My mother and children came to visit. I wasn’t sure how to break the news to them, especially my mother whom I knew would have a big reaction. My friends wound up being the ones telling her. She blurted words "breast cancer", unintentionally within earshot of my eldest son.

He googled the term on the phone, and immediately ran over to hug me. It was hard not to get emotional at that point. My eldest and I are very close and have similar temperaments.

My three younger children didn’t understand the seriousness of the illness at the time.

At the hospital then, no one broached the topic of death or survival rate. I was later told by a friend’s mother (who works as a nurse) that in cases like mine, patients usually survive “no more than three months”.

It’s been two years, and I’m still here, going about my regular life, working as a financial advisor and taking care of the children.

“I competed in a pageant despite my diagnosis.”

People were expecting me to drop out from the Mrs Singapore Chinatown pageant. It was my first time participating in something like this. I had been a stay-at-home mother for a long time before becoming a financial advisor after my fourth child turned two.

After taking care of the kids and the household for so long (we don’t have a helper), I saw the pageant as an opportunity to come out of my shell and learn to become more presentable in the working world.

Prior to the diagnosis, I had already prepped for three months. My condition wouldn’t change even if I dropped out. I wanted to finish what I started.

I asked my husband to bring my clothes, makeup and shoes to the hospital. The nurses were quite shocked to see me all glammed up and checking out for a few hours, just four days after my first chemotherapy session.

Physically, I was slightly weaker than usual but was otherwise fine.

At the event, I shared about my breast cancer ordeal, which was still very fresh. The judges were moved by how I spoke from the heart, and were perhaps feeling sympathy for my predicament given my age. But I was still shocked when I was chosen as one of the top five contestants, and ultimately ended up in second place.

Love and positivity trump the challenges

In all, I went through 18 sessions of chemotherapy and 10 sessions of radiotherapy. I thought that was it, since my condition was under control. But my oncologist said that to keep the cancer at bay, I had to do maintenance chemotherapy once every three weeks for the rest of my life.

To be on treatment for the rest of my life – that is a long time, but I refuse to let my mind stay in that frame of thought. I choose to think on the bright side and believe that I will fully recover one day.

Besides, my two-hour chemotherapy session is done in a Lazy Boy recliner, so I just use that time for a nap – still productive, just in a different way.

I am very thankful for my oncologist who prescribed me medications that helped with pain and nausea, which are common side effects of chemotherapy.

My eldest was also very sweet when I was undergoing active treatment – he would ask how I felt and offer to fetch me water.

And though my husband was not good at talking about feelings, this episode has brought out a different, more loving side of him. He bought a hospital bed so I could be more comfortable while resting at home. He also started to pick up the housework and has been more hands-on with caring for the kids.

The hair loss was at first disconcerting, though I knew it would regrow. The strands were coming off in clumps when I combed, and I would see hair on my pillow after I woke up. One day, I found a disposable shaver and decided to just remove the straggling strands myself.

I caught my two youngest children watching me from a distance after I had shaved, and then running away when I caught their eye. I spoke to them and realised they were scared because I looked different. But they got used to it pretty soon.

“I don’t see cancer as a bad thing.”

Like many others, I used to fear cancer. But after going through it myself, I’ve realised that it isn’t insurmountable. I can still work, take care of my children and go about my daily life – people don’t even know I'm ill, especially when I have a wig on.

I also found myself changing as a person throughout this journey. While I was self-conscious about my appearance growing up, I now see beauty as more than a pretty face or a shapely figure. It is about the things you do, the thoughts you think and what you do for others.

In fact, after my hair grew out, I participated in Hair for Hope in 2024, a head-shaving campaign to raise awareness of childhood cancer.

These days, I’m also more decisive and don’t let minor things – like annoyances on the road – bother me.

Life isn’t easy for everyone so let’s give more grace.

In parenting, I am also more relaxed about academics – children all have their own talents and will flourish in their own time. I just hope for my children to be healthy and happy.

I recognise now that we have a choice as to how we want to raise our kids. Parents often place many expectations on their children and cause too much stress. If we can take them out more to see the world, they wouldn’t be on their gadgets all the time.

As a Breast Cancer Foundation member, I get to speak to fellow breast cancer patients. I use this chance to share this other empowering side to cancer. When we show that cancer patients are surviving and thriving, we give people hope. There will be fatigue and different side effects during treatment, but that will also pass. Life must continue.