Sally Tagg
On first meeting, Emma Consedine has a great life. A successful business owner, mum to two gorgeous boys, Frank, six, and Charlie, four, and living in North Auckland with their 15-month-old dog Roxy, the 40-year-old is effervescent and confident. Only when you discover the long blonde hair is a wig, and you see the telltale lump of a port implant in her chest, do you realise all is not what it seems.
“I’m an extrovert and for years things were hectic,” she says. “I own a recruitment company and a software development company. I’d go out four nights a week and I know everyone in our village. Frank started school last year and I know loads of the parents. I was busy.”
So busy that when she started feeling tired, she assumed it was normal. Covid meant business was tough and after a marriage break-up, Emma felt burnt out. Then last August, she felt a lump in her right breast. “It’s at the front,” she explains. “It’s not low down or by your armpit as you’d expect. This was front and centre.”
The solo mother wants to keep life as normal as possible for Charlie (left) and Frank.
As the lump grew, Emma went for a private mammogram – she’s too young to get one on the public system. She was told everything was fine. “They said it was just dense breast tissue. I was thrilled.”
But the lump kept growing. “It started to become quite pronounced – it was obvious if I wore a lower-cut top,” she explains. Emma called her GP, who referred her for more tests. “This time, I instantly knew something was wrong,” she says. “Everyone went silent. When I asked the surgeon if this could be cancer, he said yes.”
Emma returned the following week for a biopsy. “I just needed to know this time, so I asked the radiologist if they’d ever seen a lump like this that wasn’t cancer. And she said no.”
“I’ve had a very strong reaction to the chemo,” says Emma.
Emma was diagnosed with stage three triple-positive breast cancer that had spread to her lymph nodes. The doctors started her on chemotherapy every three weeks to shrink the tumour. Next, she’ll have surgery, followed by radiation and a unilateral mastectomy. However, things aren’t going smoothly.
“I’ve had a very strong reaction to the chemo. I’m sick for days after treatment and can’t eat. They’ve reduced my dose to try and help the vomiting and diarrhoea, but it’s not helping.”
Explaining things to the boys was another hurdle. “We’re a tight team, so I was honest,” says Emma. “I told them I had a lump in my boob called cancer and the doctors are helping me get rid of it by giving me really strong medicine. One of the major things for Frank was that I was going to lose my hair and people would laugh at me when I took him to school. So we made a deal – I can be bald at home, but wear my wig when I’m out. He just wants to protect me.”
Because she was so busy and tired last year, she never got around to redoing her life insurance and income protection after separating from her husband – and she’s had to stop work. Her family are helping with finances and she’s set up a Givealittle page. “I’m the breadwinner,” she says. “The boys need me – I have to keep things going.”
Her boys are good for cuddles.
Despite everything, Emma is extraordinarily upbeat. “When I was first diagnosed, I came home, laid on my bed and cried – big, proper sobs – for about 20 minutes. And then I had to pick up the kids from school,” she recalls. “So, I made some decisions. I decided to learn everything I could about how to heal myself – obviously I’m doing chemotherapy, surgery, radiation and all that stuff. But I’m also researching lifestyle changes. I have therapy, I use a hyperbaric oxygen chamber, I take intravenous vitamins, I’m juicing… I’m giving my body as many nutrients as I can.”
Emma is blown away by the support. “My freezer is full of meals from everyone from local café staff to the daycare mums, and I’m seeing friends I haven’t seen in years,” she says. “I’m finding real beauty in humanity. The Breast Cancer Foundation rings patients every couple of weeks just to check on them. Look Good Feel Better helps women find confidence again and the Breast Cancer Aotearoa Coalition has sent me a treatment diary – they lobby the government for medical and legislation changes to help patients. And there’s a Facebook page, the Aotearoa NZ Breast Cancer Community, where women share their worries honestly and openly.
“Of course cancer isn’t a positive thing, but I feel this was my body’s way of telling me I was too busy. I’m learning a new way of living. And it’s better.”
To donate, visit givealittle.co.nz/cause/emmas-stage-3-breast-cancer-battle.
For more about breast cancer, visit breastcancerfoundation.org.nz.
