‘I did do stories for papers, and television for National Breast Cancer Awareness week. I wanted to help people be aware that it could happen to them and to tell women to get in early for scans if a lump is found, so that it can be detected early for better results.’
S he was the hero of the 2006 Commonwealth Games in Melbourne. Her fierce confrontation with Kenya’s Hellen Cherono in the final stages of the women’s marathon will go down in Australian sporting history as one of the epic battles in athletics. But it is Kerryn McCann’s battle with deadly breast cancer that cemented her status as an Australian legend.
I watched that March day in 2006 from the sidelines, with hundreds of other screaming fans, as the gritty Australian athlete ran down the railroad ramp ahead of Cherono. Turning into the Melbourne Cricket Ground, she was overtaken by her dogged rival as we spectators roared encouragement. The lead changed many times before Kerryn McCann crossed the finish line two seconds ahead of Cherono to remain the Commonwealth Queen of the Marathon—a title she had earned four years earlier in Manchester.
At the time, a relieved and triumphant Kerryn told Australia, ‘That wasn’t me running that last 300 metres. I think it’s probably the greatest victory I’ve ever had, or the greatest race I’ve ever run.’
Eighteen months later, she was again lining up for a marathon—but of another kind, telling Australia, ‘I have breast cancer.’
Kerryn with son Benton after winning in 2006
When I visit Kerryn McCann to interview her for this book, her fighting spirit is strongly evident. No challenge is too great to face; no race too hard to run. And her battle against breast cancer is one she is determined to win. ‘I am ready to fight it,’ she tells me.
Breast cancer was not really something Kerryn knew much about before her own diagnosis. ‘I went to a fair few fundraisers for women suffering with breast cancer and I really felt for those women. Little did I know that would be me later on.
‘When I was asked in interviews to describe my life before my diagnosis, I could sum it up in one word: perfect. I have often said my life was so good it scared me. I loved what I have and was—and indeed still am—thankful for my beautiful family and friends. Life for us was fun, full of adventures, lots of holidays. I guess, like a lot of people, it was busy but fun.’
In 2007 Kerryn was pregnant with her third child when she went to her doctor with what she had dismissed as a minor lump in her breast. ‘I thought I had a blocked milk duct and when it kept growing, I was worried it may affect me breastfeeding my baby. That was the reason why I mentioned it to my doctor—so I could get the blocked duct fixed before the baby came along. I had no idea there was anything wrong with me or anything more sinister than a minor blocked duct,’ Kerryn explains.
However, the harsh reality of breast cancer was looming.
‘At my first ultrasound, the nurse was very chatty and said she would send the results off and the doctor would get them sometime next week. Then, while ultrasounding the lump, she called the doctor in, who asked a lot of questions about the lump, then asked if breast cancer was in my family. They told me the results would be faxed that afternoon and ready to be picked up in an hour. “A benign or malignant tumour” was what was written on the report.
‘I was angry after I left because I thought they were making me worry over nothing, and here I was pregnant. I didn’t need the extra worry,’ she says.
Even though she sees herself as a pragmatic person, Kerryn was agitated enough to have a sleepless night. ‘But,’ she says, ‘I believed I was probably overreacting and everything would be okay.’ But all was not okay.
‘I had a biopsy. The next day I was told by my gynaecologist at the hospital that the lump was a malignant tumour and that it needed to be treated immediately.
‘I was booked in the following day to see an oncologist, and he, too, was in a panic. He agreed that the tumour needed treating right away but he wanted to give me chemotherapy first to shrink the lump. The news was all bad. He told me that the growth was stuck on the chest wall and that it would be hard to remove it all.
‘He continued to tell me that it was an aggressive Grade 3 cancer, and that I would have to go through chemotherapy. The only good news was that the cancer cells were detected in only one lymph node. I was shocked, but my husband, Greg, started to sweat and had to lean on the table. He almost fainted. He picked up the phone and started calling the doctors in front of us,’ Kerryn says.
As Kerryn was pregnant, decisions about treatment—tough enough for anyone dealing with a cancer diagnosis—became even harder for her and Greg to make. Ensuring the protection of her unborn child was uppermost in Kerryn’s mind, but she and her husband were also faced with the urgency of arresting the growth of her aggressive cancer. The steely athlete was facing a tumultuous rollercoaster of emotions.
‘I said to my oncologist I didn’t care what he did as long as I lived. Together we would do what was best for me and my baby.
‘At this time I was 31 weeks pregnant, and my gynaecologist had said no to chemo, fearing it may harm my unborn baby. The good news was that my surgeon said he could feel the lump and he was confident he could get it all out. We went with the surgeon’s decision and I had the lump cut out the next day.
‘I prayed the surgeon would get it all and I tried to be positive. I woke up after surgery and anxiously asked the surgeon if he had got it all. Thankfully he said yes he had and so I ticked off the first hurdle,’ a relieved Kerryn says. ‘Once I found out the surgeon had got it all and the oncologist said the chemo was now a mop-up job, I finally could sleep.
‘After surgery I was a little sore but I recovered quickly. At first I was upset that I’d lost part of my breast but I sort of got used to it. After all, it is a small price to pay for your life, isn’t it?’ she asks.
So that Kerryn could have treatment as soon as possible, Kerryn and Greg’s little baby boy, Cooper, was induced six weeks early and was delivered naturally on Wednesday 5 September 2007 at 11.15pm.
Kerryn had scans done the next morning at 10am—only 11 hours after giving birth—and again the following day. As they were clear, chemotherapy was scheduled to start on the following Monday.
‘It was very hard because Cooper was six weeks premature so he had to stay in hospital for three weeks. We travelled into the hospital every morning and every night to see him. I hated seeing him hooked up to all the tubes and drips; I felt guilty that he was brought into the world too soon and that I wasn’t even allowed to breastfeed him—not even for that special first night—because of the scans I had to have the next day,’ explains an emotional Kerryn.
‘It was a difficult few weeks until he came home to the family. Then it felt better and normal for us to be looking after him in our own home, rather than the nurses in hospital. Although I have to say that the nurses were fantastic.’
Kerryn reveals that at first she was scared of the medical fraternity ‘because they had so much bad news. I didn’t know what I should do or what treatments I should be having. I couldn’t make any of those dreadfully hard decisions; I had no idea. So I let the doctors make them for me—doing what was best for me. And I did what I was told,’ she says.
‘Once the good results came back after surgery, my outlook changed to be much more positive. I think the medical staff are all fantastic and really know so much about breast cancer. I trusted them and believe in them. The oncologist said he knew the type of cancer I was diagnosed with and had had success with it. It wasn’t a popular cancer but he got me through,’ she adds.
Kerryn was scheduled to have six chemotherapy treatments spaced three weeks apart followed by six weeks of radiotherapy. Resolute, she just got on with the treatment. ‘I really didn’t have any reservations about having chemo as this was what the doctors advised. So once the decision was made for me to have chemo, I couldn’t wait for it to start. I just wanted to get on with it and get it over with.
‘At first I hated all those harsh chemicals going through my healthy body and couldn’t help but think how bad this poison was. But I grew to believe that it does its job in killing off all the bad cells. I took the philosophy that I would be healthy again once it was finished. While in training, I wouldn’t even take an anti-inflammatory pill because of what it may do to my insides so when they gave me steroids to stop the sickness I was horrified.
‘My first chemo session was five days after giving birth to Cooper. I got back pains so was given a relaxant, and it helped immediately. It took four hours for the first chemo treatment to be injected into my veins. I ached that night and I couldn’t sleep, but I would say that was because I had just given birth. The next two treatments were a breeze but number 4 knocked me flat. I felt like I had morning sickness all over again plus a virus. I was very tired and weak and struggled to pick up my baby, so my husband did everything for those few days after the treatment. I would then recover and feel fine up until the next one,’ Kerryn says.
‘The worst bit about chemo was the days immediately after each treatment. This was the only time I took medication—which I didn’t like taking. I seemed to be tired and sick but then I’d get better. I guess I can’t complain. The worst is the tiredness. My husband had to do everything, which was hard for me because I feel like it is my job. It is hard letting people do things for me when I’m used to doing everything. But I was also very grateful for all the support and help I did get. My friends and family made a roster to cook for me every week. Another good friend cleans as well. I am so lucky to have true friends,’ says Kerryn.
Although completely grateful that she is alive, well and powering back to an active and positive life, she says, ‘During chemotherapy, when I wasn’t feeling well, I sometimes felt a bit helpless and depressed. I got better, though, as the weeks passed. Before I was diagnosed I was running, but afterwards I wasn’t allowed to run because of the iron/haemoglobin deficiency. That was hard, too—not feeling fit and healthy.
‘I had read a lot of information on what to expect so I really thought I would feel worse. But I think my fitness helped with my recovery. I do admit to worrying that chemo might not work but I am thankful now for every single day.’
Following chemotherapy Kerryn faced two months of radiation treatments. ‘Radiotherapy was a breeze compared to the chemo. They said I would feel very tired but I didn’t feel tired at all. My only complaint was my terribly burned skin. It was very sore and bright red and the skin blistered. I was told this would happen so it was no great surprise,’ she says.
Looking back now at those first days of diagnosis, Kerryn remembers she not only had to deal with her own personal anguish but, as she was such a popular athletic champion, she was forced into sharing her journey with the public. ‘I told my mum first that I was having scans. Then I rang my dad, who was hysterical. I felt guilty I hadn’t mentioned that there could be something wrong, but I didn’t want to make a big deal of it in case it turned out to be nothing. My sister was next and Greg’s mum. They probably had a fair idea, though, that something serious was wrong because of the rush through the week with medical appointments, ultrasounds and biopsies,’ she recalls.
‘Once I knew I had breast cancer I rang close family. But I found it too hard to tell my friends so I texted them, I wrote: “Don’t ring me, too upset to speak right now, I’ll ring you, I have breast cancer.”
‘I tried to keep it from the public but I had commitments throughout the rest of the year with sponsors like Anlene and event organisers like the Melbourne Marathon. Word got out. I was really upset that the media were so upfront and inquisitive,’ Kerryn adds.
‘But in spite of that, I did do stories for papers, and television for National Breast Cancer Awareness week. I wanted to help people be aware that it could happen to them and to tell women to get in early for scans if a lump is found, so that it can be detected early for better results,’ says Kerryn. ‘I felt that I could use my profile to perhaps help other women.
‘I have had a lot of contact with people such as Jane McGrath and Raelene Boyle who have been diagnosed with breast cancer and who also have gone through the same public scrutiny. I found it a great help to me, speaking with such strong and inspirational women. They have helped me to be strong.
‘They were terribly supportive and gave me great advice. I remember Jane telling me to stop going on the internet all the time. She made me promise I would stop that—and I did. It is true. You read too many bad things and they seem to stick with you. So I now tell others to read only good positive things because they help you be positive and that helps in your recovery.
‘I love hearing good stories about people who were worse off than me but have overcome adversity and live a normal healthy life again. I read Lance Armstrong’s books. His is such a positive story,’ says Kerryn.
‘But being strong didn’t mean that I didn’t still worry—my greatest fear was leaving my family behind: my kids, my unborn baby, my husband. During this whole ordeal, they have all been there for me every single step of the way,’ Kerryn says, with emotion creeping into her voice. ‘Like me, everyone close to me was shocked and upset, but then they became my rock—strong and confident, supportive.
‘My husband’s strength—his love and support and his reassurance—keep me going. He has taken time off work to look after me, the kids and baby Cooper. I would be stuck without him. My mum is also great. She’s always there and helps me cope with all my fears and tears.’
For every person diagnosed with cancer, thoughts of facing death open the emotional floodgates. Kerryn was no different. ‘At first you are in shock and then you become more practical. I made plans, I gathered my family close. We prayed, we bargained with God, and then we just had to wait.
‘I guess I had a fair idea in the beginning that the breast cancer was potentially fatal, but I was more upset when I didn’t know where I stood. Once I found out and could do something about it, I coped a little better. It was the hardest three weeks of my life and yes, I did a lot of praying. I thought the worst—only natural, isn’t it? I cried a hell of a lot,’ Kerryn confesses.
But out of the intense turbulence of emotions, fears and panic attacks, there always appear some gifts. ‘Amidst all the bad news my husband and I learned how strong our love for each other is. This shock also makes me appreciate everything I have and do. Now I try not to be worrying about petty things,’ Kerryn says philosophically.
‘The other wonderful gift from my diagnosis has been the terrific support of my friends. They can’t do enough for me now. Sometimes I find that hard to accept. But as my sister told me, “You would do the same for them.” And she is right. I love my friends and would help them if they needed it. They keep telling me that they help me for their own sake because that is all they can do. It helps them feel better knowing that they are doing something for me.
‘And they have all now gone out and had mammograms. They were all in shock that someone like myself—fit and healthy—could get breast cancer. So that’s another positive.’
And of course, from time to time the seriousness of this medical war against breast cancer is lightened with humorous moments.
‘I remember watching my son in the pool from my balcony, and the wind blew off my wig. I scrambled around the balcony grabbing at my wig before it blew away—and especially before the neighbours saw my bald head. I finally got it back and put it on my head and looked down to see my 10-year-old son rolling around on the ground in hysterical laughter. So of course I just went into fits of laughter, too. We have the same sense of humour; we laugh at others’ misfortunes.’
Now that she has been through her treatments and is able to reflect on her experiences, Kerryn does admit to some frustration and irritation about the intrusion of cancer into her life. However, putting that behind her, she is now totally refocused on living a healthy life.
‘I have to see my oncologist every three months and have scans every year. But I am not worried about it coming back because I’ve been told there is a 97 per cent survival rate for breast cancer. I believe in being positive. It’s silly to worry about something that will probably never happen,’ Kerryn says.
‘Although it is not so long since my journey with breast cancer, I think I am coping quite well—physically, mentally and emotionally. I have learned so much from two inspirational women: Jane McGrath and Raelene Boyle. They have helped me to not be scared any more.
‘I don’t have time to worry: having three children, and one being only six months old, I’m too busy to think about it. People have said how bad the timing was—being pregnant and having breast cancer—but I think it was a blessing. Whenever I was feeling really sick, I would lie down with Cooper while he slept and just stare at his beautiful little face, and it made me feel so good. He is a beautiful boy and I feel so lucky,’ she says.
Kerryn’s secret to getting on with her life is simple. ‘I’m back running and feeling fit and healthy again. I feel strong when I run. It’s normal to me and I want everything to be back to normal. I have goals and I think that helps in my recovery. My goals aren’t as high as they were, but it’s nice to set smaller goals and work towards achieving them. I like to keep busy; it gives me something to think about. I just want to have fun now, with my family and friends.’
Kerryn McCann was an admired figure in Australia even before she was struck down with breast cancer. Since her diagnosis and subsequent treatments, she has earned the respect of the nation: not only is she a champion runner, she’s a true inspiration. If life is like a marathon race, then Kerryn is again showing her championship form.
Perhaps it will be her battle against breast cancer that is ‘the greatest victory I have had and the greatest race I have ever run’.
POSTSCRIPT: 8 DECEMBER 2008
Kez is in Heaven
With that simple text message, Greg McCann let family and friends know that his beloved wife, Kerryn, had run the last lap of her life and had crossed the finishing line.
In September 2008 Kerryn had stated that she was undergoing ‘a few problems’, as she was stricken with secondary cancer in her liver. She died at age 41, surrounded by Greg and their children: Benton, 11, Josie, 5, and baby Cooper, just 14 months old.
Kerryn will be remembered for being a champion athlete but for much more besides. Her dignity and courage in winning races and in fighting breast cancer has touched all Australians.
We will remember the woman who fought with everything she had—until her final breath.