In 2013, Jessica Weller was another Kiwi starting her OE in the bright lights of London. Then she was diagnosed with breast cancer at age 27, and everything changed.
Now, as well as teaching, Jess runs The WELLer Network, where she wants to raise awareness among young women about breast cancer. Jess believes that knowing your body, and looking after it, is your greatest defence.
Here’s her story:
There are two questions I get: was it a lump, and did you have a family history? The answer is ‘no’ to both.
It was more than a bloody lump.
My first symptom was an ache.
I arrived in London in January and the symptoms started in May. I was diagnosed in June.
When I was diagnosed, I was like, “Let’s get on with this.” I treated it like another job that had to be done. I still wanted to travel, I still wanted to have a good time in London – this was just something I was going to have to deal with at the same time.
I had the drug Herceptin and chemotherapy every three weeks for 15 months, and after every session I would book something in. I went to Portugal for Christmas and New Year’s Eve. I went to Paris by myself. I went to Rome. I wasn’t going to give up my OE for anything.
When I used to tell people that I had cancer, they did look at me like I was dead. They gave you the death stare. But it’s not a death sentence. We have to stop fearing it and start realising that if you catch it early, the results can be good.
One of the things the surgeon said to me was, “This is going to be the shittiest year of your life. But it’s going to be an investment for your life.”
Around the time I was diagnosed, I decided I would walk the London half marathon. Because that’s something to aim for, isn’t it? So the day after my fourth round of chemo, I walked a half marathon. I’d shaved all my hair off, it was raining and cold. But it was the most liberating thing ever, to know I could do that – and I was so high on steroids, I just powered through it. It took four hours. A year later, I did the full marathon with a group – dressed in giant boob costumes – and it took us 11 hours.
You see the world through different eyes when something like this happens to you. It was like, “Where is the support for me? Where is the information? What about other people?” I feel like I have a massive love for people and I want to make sure they don’t get a raw deal.
With breast cancer, 3000 women are diagnosed each year and 350 of those are under 45 years old. You need to be aware of what’s normal for you, so you know when it changes.
My slogan is ‘supporting healthy conversations that could save your life’. This happened to me, and I don’t want it to happen to you. It’s trying to stimulate people to pluck up the courage and talk about these things, because I just don’t think we can afford not to.
I wish that I had known more. I wish it had been talked about at school – we talk about sex and puberty, but not cancer.
I had to hustle to get into schools, to talk to the students. I would say, ‘Look, I’m a breast cancer survivor, I’m a teacher.’ I ended up getting into 34 schools across Auckland; either doing year-level assemblies or health curriculum classes. There’s a lot of information out there and it’s hard for that age group to decipher fact from fiction.
The younger ones will always ask, “What is cancer? What is chemotherapy?” Whereas the older ones will ask more technical questions, about my surgery, or the side effects of the drugs, or deep questions like, “What have you learnt?’”
I spoke to about 7500 kids; and six of them presented with symptoms. These are teenagers. And it’s probably nothing, but for them to be more aware of their bodies, that’s the key.
A lot of people think it’s only to do with family history, but it’s not – and I don’t understand why that’s not being screamed from the rooftops. That was me three years ago: no family history, no rhyme or reason.
I think mine was stress-related; a big part of my presentation is how to reduce risk. Limit your alcohol intake; be conscious of what you put on your skin and what you put in your body. Maintain a healthy weight, exercise as regularly as possible. These are the things I wish I’d done enough of before I was diagnosed, like get enough sleep. Rest more.
Meditation and mindfulness are really healthy for you; I use the Headspace app. Journaling and writing – get your feelings outside of you. Make time to de-stress; I just don’t sweat the small stuff anymore because life is too bloody short.
And I don’t apologise any more. We’re always apologising and once you start noticing how much you say it, you realise you’ve done nothing wrong.
A friend of mine had a scare and went to see her GP. I warned her, “Don’t be told that you’re too young.” And that’s exactly what they said to her. If you’re not sure about something, trust your gut and ask to be referred, or see another GP.
I had a scare earlier this year when I had a clinical exam and they could feel something. The scans looked fine but when they did another exam, they found something so I end up being pushed into a biopsy I didn’t want to do. I knew it was nothing. They put me into high alert, and then I had to wait two weeks for the results. That’s too long. My anxiety levels went through the roof; it was brutal.
A friend with secondary cancer, and the founder of Shocking Pink – a support service for women with breast cancer – said to me, “There are two types of people: those who are diagnosed, who want to deal with it and then never have to think about it again; then there are those who want to take the experience and ensure other people don’t ever have to go through it. We want to save the world.”
But you do have to be careful about looking after yourself, because every time I stand in front of a group of people and speak about this, I give a piece of myself away. And I have to be able to replenish myself. I put my heart and soul into what I’m doing, because I believe in this so much.
For more information on Jess, visit www.thewellernetwork.com
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