Reflections from My Annual Breast Cancer Check-Up – Six Years On

Yesterday was my annual check-up day.

Six years have passed since I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2019, and still, this day never feels ordinary. Each year, as check-up time approaches, a quiet anxiety builds in the background. I don’t tell many people about it — just Stephen (my husband!), really. That’s what works for me. Everyone is different, and we all have to do what feels right when navigating something so deeply personal.

Yesterday lunchtime, I left Kerry and made the familiar journey to Cork for my mammogram and appointment with my surgeon. In some ways, it feels like my diagnosis was just yesterday. In others, it feels like something that happened in a completely different life — to someone else entirely. It's a strange duality, and not one that’s easy to explain unless you’ve been through it.

And the truth? It doesn’t really get easier.

The mammogram — as uncomfortable as ever (there's definitely a Young Scientist opportunity to come up with a gentler way to do this!!) — still brings a knot of dread to my stomach. (I used to joke that it was the worst part of the whole cancer journey, but there’s always some truth in humour, isn’t there?!) The waiting, the wondering… it all comes rushing back.

But yesterday, thankfully, all was okay.

I drove home to Tralee with a grateful heart. And while the relief is immense, I never take it for granted. I know how fragile things can be.

Last night, I was back in my own sitting room, watching Love Island with Stephen and the kids — and it’s in these simple, almost silly moments that I find the most peace. After a long and nerve-wracking day, the comfort of the mundane is a beautiful thing. The hum of normal life is deeply soothing.

And as I sit here, I’m thinking of you — the woman heading into a scan, the one waiting on results, the one newly diagnosed, or the one going in for your own annual check-up. Whether it’s your first or your fifteenth, it’s never easy. I see you. I feel what you’re feeling.

And I want you to know: you are not alone.

With love,
Siobhán x