Patient stories

Despite six years of setbacks, Lisa Banfield is looking forward to her new family life with husband, John, and their two new bundles of joy, Joshua and Lucas.

It has been a roller-coaster ride which has brought John and Lisa to this point. Originally mis-diagnosed in New Zealand (the gynaecologist was later struck off), Lisa was diagnosed with cervical cancer in 1996. She had to undergo a radical hysterectomy.

In 1998 Lisa and John arrived in Australia and were looking forward to a new life, when Lisa discovered a lump. Although there were no other symptoms and no pain, Lisa was referred to Professor Hacker at the Gynaecological Cancer Centre. Lisa says he listened carefully, took a biopsy and then operated that day.

“He was so patient and caring and was very concerned about me,” said Lisa. “This man is incredible!”

When Professor Hacker operated to remove the tumour, he pinned Lisa’s ovaries up so that they would not receive the full blast from the radiotherapy and strength of the chemotherapy which was to follow. The operation took 3½ hours. Unfortunately, although the ovaries were high in the abdomen, the scatter of radiation or the powerful chemotherapy caused them to stop functioning.

“At that stage,” recalls Lisa, “I had now not only lost the ability to carry a baby, but also the ability to provide the eggs. I was told that I had a 50% chance of living 18 months. But my husband kept me going, and the staff at the Royal Hospital for Women were wonderful. They were all such a comfort.”

John and Lisa are both very athletic, and once Lisa had recovered from the chemotherapy and radiotherapy, they were back riding mountain bikes together and she was doing yoga. (Lisa had won an athletic scholarship to the University of San Diego when she left high school.)

“Every day I wake up and wonder if the cancer has come back, but all bad thoughts disappear when I ride my bike,” said Lisa, who has been riding bikes since the age of 3.

Lisa says she owes her survival to the work of Professor Hacker at the Gynaecological Cancer Centre. “I’m eternally grateful for this second chance at life,” said Lisa. “And it is all due to these unbelievable people at this awesome hospital in Randwick. Thinking and caring is so rare these days. You want them to discover something in their research because of the time, effort, and expertise they put into all this treatment.”

The couple decided to wait a couple of years before seeing what they could do about having a baby. “We just wanted to have a child to share the love that John and I have. But if it is not to be, then we will just have to cope with that. I don’t expect much; I won’t let it become an obsession.”

After about 18 months, a girlfriend of Lisa’s offered to be a surrogate mother, using Lisa’s sister’s eggs. They formed 19 embryos and the girlfriend tried five times, but it didn’t work.

When Lisa started having pain round her waist, Professor Hacker ordered an ultrasound to see if the ovaries might be causing the pain. To everyone’s surprise, they found that Lisa’s ovaries had begun ovulating again, even though she had gone through all the symptoms of menopause three years earlier.

With her new eggs formed into three embryos by IVFAustralia, Lisa and John set off to America in 2002 for another attempt with a new surrogate mother. They were paired up with a Mrs Prelewicz by CSP (Centre for Surrogate Parenting) in California, U.S.A.

However, in March 2003, the Australian Government introduced laws banning embryos being taken out of the country. Lisa lobbied the Government until she won an amendment to the laws, allowing her to take the embryos to America.

To Lisa and John’s delight, Mrs Prelewicz became pregnant in May, but she miscarried. After another attempt, she became pregnant again and the twin boys were born in late April, 2004. It was an incredibly emotional time for the Banfields and their families, as well as Mrs Prelewicz who was so happy for them.

A few weeks later, Lisa and John arrived back in Australia with their new boys. It had been a long journey, and there were many hurdles overcome, but they had finally made it.

Lisa’s update: “On the 10th October we had a naming day celebration for Joshua and Lucas. We invited Professor Hacker and his wife Estelle to this very special occasion. We asked Professor Hacker to read a reading at this celebration because we believe that without this man and the team he heads up, Lisa AND Joshua and Lucas wouldn't be here today."

Joshua & Lucas

A daily focus on survival

 In 2002, Daphne Sauvage was at the height of her career and thoroughly enjoying her work. At 38 she was one of the top 10 real estate agents for a large Eastern Suburbs Agency and was having her best year in business. Suddenly, without warning, she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

Daphne felt she was too busy to be sick. There was no cancer in her family, she had always worked out and watched what she ate. She didn’t smoke. In her own words she was a “health freak”.

“I was feeling terribly tired and went through periods of bloating and stomach cramps, but I put it down to working such long hours,” she recounted. Her GP told her she was low in iron and needed more sleep. After 4 visits to her doctor and a visit to the emergency ward via ambulance no one could work out what was wrong, blood tests and examinations failed to pick anything up.

Eventually Daphne went to St Vincent ’s Hospital, had a cat scan, fluid taken, an ultrasound and further tests. They told her it was cancer, maybe stomach or bowel, but that she was too young to have ovarian cancer.

She was referred to a medical oncologist, Professor Robyn Ward, who diagnosed Stage III ovarian cancer. The following day the chemotherapy treatments were started to reduce the bloating, and in preparation for an operation. It was too late to save Daphne’s ovaries for pregnancy. The goal was to save her life.

“I was in shock,” she recalls. “I didn’t want to know any details or hear the statistics.” Daphne knew the mortality rates were high, but she just wanted to focus on day to day survival.

In October of that year, Daphne was operated on by Professor Marsden at the Royal Hospital for Women. Following the operation she was transferred to acute care and underwent a blood transfusion. “I was so tired; it was like wearing lead boots.” Daphne left hospital 14 kg lighter.

While in hospital, Daphne made friends with a woman across the room from her. As time and treatments moved on, her friend’s cancer returned. Daphne also had another friend who had breast cancer with an 80% chance of survival, but that friend also died. But Daphne refused to allow the cancer to become part of her. In her own mind “I never had cancer I was always getting rid of cancer”.

What Daphne had not allowed for, was the feeling of fragility and the fear of the cancer returning. She returned to work completely bald with all good intentions to get on with her life. It was too soon and Daphne was not prepared for how hard it was to get back to the demands of her role as a Real Estate agent so she could not cope. So she took a trip overseas to be with her family and sought help from Anthony Robbins. “I had to adjust mentally and get the terrible consuming fear that the cancer would come back and eventually kill me (as the statistics said it would). Now it’s interesting to look back on my anger at getting cancer and the challenges I overcame to survive.”

Three and a half years on, Daphne’s tumour markers are normal and she has never felt more fantastic with a new job at Raine and Horne Double Bay and an appreciation for life and all it’s wonderful gifts.

Now she says she takes nothing for granted. “Life is so precious. I met the most beautiful people in my life during that time.” One of her friends, who also survived cancer, gave her the Lance Armstrong book and she felt that if he could do it, she could too.

 Her message to others: “Ignore the statistics and be positive.”

NEW FERTILITY SPARING SURGERY PERFORMED

Carolyn is still recovering from the shock of discovering that she had cervical cancer.

A year ago, Carolyn visited her GP because of some slight bleeding. Her Pap smear was normal and when she visited her gynaecologist, he too found nothing abnormal.

A second Pap smear in February was abnormal and her gynaecologist noted a small ulcer on her cervix. A cone biopsy was performed at the end of March. At this stage, Carolyn was starting to worry as she thought “something’s not right.”

“I had only just started back into work, when I had to go into hospital. My boss was sympathetic and said my health was important and to have it looked at.”

Although her family and boyfriend, Andy, were there for support, Carolyn was agitated. After the operation she was given the news “It’s cancer of the cervix.”

“I thought ‘we can do something about this’, but the recommendation from my gynaecologist was that I have a radical hysterectomy. Suddenly I was faced with the prospect of never being able to have children. I was devastated! You never think it’s going to be taken away from you and so I was crying and in a daze. But my boyfriend said ‘it’s OK, we’ll deal with this’. We were both in shock.”

Carolyn says she was blaming herself because she was a smoker. Then she made up her mind “I’m not going to die from this.”

She was referred to Professor Hacker, who saw her during one of his regular bi-monthly clinics in Canberra. Professor Hacker also recommended a radical hysterectomy, but she refused. She sought a second opinion and received the same advice. She discussed it again with Professor Hacker and he told her that he would consider a radical trachelectomy if a second cone biopsy showed clear surgical margins.

Professor Hacker said, “Radical trachelectomy is a compromise operation for patients with Stage 1B cervical cancer who want to try to retain their fertility. The treatment is still experimental, and patients have to understand that there is a small, but definite, increased risk of recurrent disease. In addition, because most of the cervix has been removed, there are problems with conception, and an increased risk of mid-trimester miscarriage or premature delivery.

Carolyn said that she was perfectly happy to accept all of these risks and she underwent a successful radical trachelectomy in early June. She is very confident that everything will turn out well for her.

Carolyn has big plans. After returning to work in a couple of months, she’s intending to go round the world – visiting Nepal, Egypt and Mt Everest – before returning to have a baby. Carolyn has full confidence in the future and says her message to all women is – “Have a Pap smear!

For a woman who has always felt fit and healthy, being diagnosed with ovarian cancer was something Susanne found difficult to accept.

“I should have remembered my mother’s words: If something doesn’t heal in two weeks, check it out. Although I had symptoms for 18 months, I thought it was because I was menopausal and I continued to ignore them.”

In the same year Susanne started her own Interior Design business (1997), she was also busy raising two teenage children and running a home. It was while she was at the gym one day doing exercises, that she noticed a lump in her stomach.

“I visited women’s health centres and two doctors before I ended up being referred to Professor Hacker at the Royal Hospital for Women. I was certain that it was just a lump that needed to be removed and that it would be all right. I refused to accept it might be cancer.”

The night before the operation, the Professor visited Susanne and talked about the possibility of cancer. When she woke up, Susanne could tell they had done a lot more than just remove a lump. In fact, she had advanced ovarian cancer and the doctors had removed both ovaries, her uterus, omentum and 30 lymph nodes.

It was the six months of chemotherapy that followed which Susanne found distressing and which she would rather forget. Her hearing is now mildly affected and she has numbness in her toes, but she kept on working and running the household and coping with her teenage children.

Susanne feels that the experience has given her an appreciation for everything in her daily life. She has not needed any more treatment and remains free of disease six years later. “The message is - You can beat it,” says Susanne, but of course she still worries that her cancer may be back when her CA125 titres are checked every six months. She realises that she is one of the lucky ones, because her disease was already advanced at the time of diagnosis.

“If only we had a single blood test to check all healthy women for ovarian cancer,” Susanne said, “Then many more women would be diagnosed early and many more women would be cured.”

THANK YOU FOR SAVING MY LIFE!

Princess Taofi Atoa talks about her personal struggle against ovarian cancer

Cancer is as old as man. It has come down through centuries, misted in legend, shrouded with the dank thread of a hereditary curse. In Egypt it was known as the Disease of Pharaohs – the excavation of 3,500 year old mummies showed its presence. It has also been called the Disease of the Hapsburgs.

I was very involved with tourism development and spent a great deal of time on aeroplanes and in different places. I thought I could stand on any unfamiliar ground and conquer any situation that challenged my way. It was in 1992 that I was first diagnosed with ovarian cancer. The doctor alluded to the fact that it was fairly advanced. This undermined all my confidence. I was ill-prepared to deal with this disagreeable reality.

There were no warning signs or symptoms of this creepy disease. If there were warnings, I did not recognise them. All sorts of devastating thoughts went through my mind, as though I was caught in a web. I realised there were several stages of the disease, but I had no idea at which stage I was.

I went through the operation without knowing its outcome and waited anxiously for ensuing test results. I was thunderstruck, a similar feeling to that you have in an aeroplane when it strikes adversity in the sky. You hold on, deal with your fear and hope that the pilot with his skill and talent will bring you home safely.

My family’s affection and support was a great source of strength. I remember saying through agony “If I could only hold my father’s hand, everything would be alright.”

Dr Ian Cope was the surgeon who performed the operation, and I received six months of chemotherapy treatment at the St Vincents Oncology Clinic.

This was a very strenuous and testing time – I felt completely manoeuvred by this aggressive disease! The thought of not being able to get back to structured life and compelled by lost dreams of youth and career was daunting. But, just as the skilful pilot landed the aeroplane safely, so did the skilful medical team land me back to health. I recovered and returned to full activities. I felt marvellous, as if all fears and frustrating aspects about my health were in the past.

Unfortunately, my health reform was not permanent! Four years later, in 1996, I was diagnosed again with another cancerous tumour in the pelvic region (the second time) and was referred to Professor Hacker at the old Royal Hospital for Women at Paddington. I felt then that I had a ‘one-way ticket’ and this time the plane wasn’t going to land safely. The emotional security that is usually provided by doctors when confronted by illness, was gone. I felt so alone, with a restless longing for hope. Nothing is more discouraging and debilitating than to be confronted with the same situation that might never change and you have no control over it.

My private struggle was devastating! So much so that I found myself running all the way from my home to the clinic at St Vincents to see Dr Dalley. I sat outside the clinic and wept. The doctor came out and listened to my doubts about being operated on by a doctor I did not know well, in an old hospital building. He gave me the reassurance I needed. He took my hand and said, “Listen very carefully. Professor Hacker is the icon in the field. You will be in the most skilful hands in respect to gynaecological cancer.”

He went on talking about many marvellous achievements at the oncology section of The Royal Hospital for Women and that Professor Hacker was not just a brilliant surgeon, but also a diagnostic specialist (though I did not quite understand what a ‘diagnostic specialist’ was). My meeting with Dr Dalley felt like a soft landing for my shattered nerves. I left with a grudging respect for the people in the medical profession; the comradeship; their collective striving and quest for healing and elimination of suffering; wherein lies the living manifestation of hope and compassion.

To my delight, Professor Hacker saved my life! I went through the second operation with minimum discomfort. He eliminated my furious fear by explaining things to me before my admission to hospital. He simply said, “We shall open you up and then make things right. Then, perhaps, some chemotherapy to keep it right.”

There was a confident and soft ring to it. However, my flashback memory of chemotherapy had a tremor of agony. With his gentle persuasion and that of his team, I survived.

The memories of my first encounter with cancer helped my ability to cope and measure up to life. Personally, I feel it made me get in touch with myself. For example, my previous thoughts of ‘that old, decrepit building’, was one that turned out to be a sanctuary, with the best care I had ever received. It proved that a beautiful building with sophisticated equipment is not enough. It is secondary to the superiority of its human resource.

It has been six years since my second operation, and the chemotherapy that followed. Although one does not cling to immortality, I believe that I am cured and enjoy feeling well.

The Royal Hospital for Women is now a modern building in Randwick, and the team of people is still there, greeting, comforting and healing. I am encouraged with the GO Fund’s Research Program and the close watch by Professor Hacker over my condition.

I recall my brother’s astonishment at my being “well preserved” after my trembling ordeal with cancer. Coming from a brother, that is a serious compliment.

I am forever grateful to have known the doctor in the white coat, Professor Hacker, and the medical team which saved my life.