She was only 18 when her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Jolene Ho and her mother, Jenny Khoo, recount the ups and downs of their five-year journey.
She was only 18 when her mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. Jolene Ho and her mother, Jenny Khoo, recount the ups and downs of their five-year journey.
Jolene Ho, 23, Research Assistant
When I first learnt of my mum’s diagnosis back in 2011, it was definitely hard to accept. I didn’t want to hear about any of the details, like the stage of the cancer or how big the growth was. I didn’t know how to react – I remember saying everything will be fine, but started crying once I was alone in my room. I didn’t want my mum to see me crying, because I didn’t want to make her feel sadder.
I tried to stay positive, especially around my mum, but I definitely was very worried during that time. Will my mum recover from this? What if she doesn’t? What if she isn’t around anymore? How are we going to cope as a family? Will my dad be all right, seeing that they’re such a close and loving couple? It was hard dealing with these negative thoughts and emotions – I kept myself occupied by talking to my family and close friends. I focused on one task at a time, one day at a time, choosing to live in the present instead of worrying about the future.
It was tough seeing her go through this battle with cancer in the beginning. I was at a loss, because I didn’t know what I could possibly do to make her feel better. It’s not as if I could take her suffering away. I couldn’t stop her hair from falling out due to chemotherapy. Eventually, I learnt that the main thing I could do was just be there for her. When my mum’s hair started to drop, I wasn’t brave enough to shave off all my hair with her so I only shaved off the bottom half.
My source of strength during the difficult moments came from my religion, as my family is Christian. My mum was also a huge inspiration, as she never gave up on herself. I never realised the capacity of my mum’s mental strength before this. She made the best out of the situation. When her hair fell, instead of hiding at home, she took the opportunity to try out various hairstyles by getting different wigs. She even got her hairdresser to style them!
There’s something she said to the family that stuck with me. She told us that good things can come out of bad situations, and told us to look for the silver lining. I guess for us, the silver lining is that our family is closer than before. Because of this, we’ve now learnt to be more open with each other, and we’d always speak our feelings instead of bottling them up.
For me, the most emotional part of my mum’s journey is during her last therapy session on September 5, 2012. I was looking forward to it. I thought back on her first session – how she had to be poked with needles multiple times and how weak she was after that – which is a huge contrast from her last session, where she was cheerful and had grown so much stronger. I put together a scrapbook to celebrate the occasion. When I was going through the photos and putting the book together, I realised it was quite an eventful period for us. We went through a lot as a family, but we also had many reasons and things to celebrate.
This August marked her five-year battle with breast cancer. She’s in remission now, and I pray and hope that all will be well. From my experience, the best thing that you can do for someone who is battling cancer is to be there for them and let them know they’re not alone. Support their feelings — don’t get upset when they’re feeling down.
Jenny Khoo, 54, Homemaker
When my doctor told me I was diagnosed with stage 2A breast cancer in 2011, I was calm and we even discussed the various treatment plans. I only broke down and cried at home three days later, when the truth really sank in. My husband was with me at the doctor’s, so he broke the news to our children. My youngest daughter, Jolene, and my son, Jerone, were only 18 and 15 years old back then. But both of them were mature enough to say, let’s handle this together. It was only much later that I learnt that they cried over my diagnosis. It was very kind of them to put on a brave front for me.
Since I have cancer in my family history, I decided to have a mastectomy. After that, I had to have 17 cycles of targeted therapy in addition to four rounds of chemotherapy.
The whole course of treatment took 51 weeks.
One of the toughest parts was definitely having needles poked through my veins 17 times once every three weeks. And the toxicity from the chemotherapy shrinks your veins, so it got harder to locate them. The side effects of chemotherapy – like insomnia, rashes, and fatigue – were hard to deal with too. Another tough part was the hair loss. I thought I had it all prepared with five wigs, but when it happened, I was overwhelmed – I had a head full of hair before this, so it felt like I was slowly losing a part of myself.
Children will always be kids in our hearts, but during my battle with cancer, I’ve learnt that Jolene is no longer a kid.
She’d always check if I was feeling all right and if I needed anything. One of the most touching things she’s done for me is this scrapbook titled The Warrior’s Journey, which she gave to me after my 50th birthday. The book traces every step of my journey, complete with photographs. It has become one of my resources to encourage fellow sufferers of breast cancer. I reached my five-year mark this August. For breast cancer patients, they say the fifth year is an important milestone because your chances of recovery increase. I recently went for a full scan and I’m now in remission.
Sometimes, people are not sure of how to support cancer patients. Well, we’re all unique. Some prefer to keep mum about it, while others are more prepared to talk. But there’s one thing that you can do for sure – to assure her that she doesn’t have to fight this battle alone. For women who are newly-diagnosed with breast cancer, it helps to talk to people who have gone through it, or take a look at what the Breast Cancer Foundation has to offer. They have programmes to help breast cancer patients, both physically and emotionally. I joined their counselling programme last year because I wanted to pay it forward. I now volunteer at the National University Hospital’s breast clinic once a week. [Jenny has since fully recovered and is now cancer-free.]
“One of the toughest parts was definitely having needles poked through my veins 17 times once every three weeks.”
