Ruth Maxwell

Invasive ductal carcinoma, stage 1

Being diagnosed with breast cancer in March 2025, three months after my GP referral was devastating, not just for me, but for the people who love me. I asked my GP to check my breasts because one was quite painful. This was the first huge trauma I’ve faced since my knife attack journey began in 2016, and it brought with it an overwhelming mix of fear, grief, and exhaustion. After all I'd been through previously I didn't want anyone near me but was aware that with my hand injuries I'm unable to check my own breasts. I only pushed for my GP to check me because I was in pain and hadn't had them checked in 11 or 12 years. My mantra now is 'always check your boobies' regardless of your trauma or inner pain.

I spent years recovering, both physically and emotionally, from that violent attack, and only after the final appeal and sentencing in 2022 did I finally begin to look forward again. That experience shaped everything about how I approach safety, trust, and health. Just as I was beginning to feel like I had reclaimed parts of myself, this diagnosis came and shook the ground beneath me once more.

The only symptom I had was a sore breast. I thought at one stage maybe the wire from my bra was digging into me. I was aware of sore breasts usually meaning a benign cyst but thank goodness I ignored that myth. My GP said nothing should be ignored when it comes to your breasts. I had invasive ductal carcinoma stage 1. I did have a three month wait from referral before Christmas 2024 then surgery was in April 2025. I had a week of radiation in June and turned down the 5/10 year hormone blocker putting my own quality of life over the side effects.

One of the hardest parts was telling my loved ones. Knowing I had to bring them more pain, after everything we’d already endured, was heartbreaking. But through this experience, I’ve also been met with remarkable compassion. The professionalism and kindness shown by the staff at Galway University Hospital, especially in the Breast Clinic and Oncology team, have been a source of real comfort. In a world that sometimes feels unsafe, being treated with respect, dignity, and care has meant more than I can say.

The aftermath of surgery and radiation was exhausting, slow, sore, and quite painful still almost a year on. I continued with work and when I wasn't up to it I shut my door and limited all integrations. I availed of all the resources and support offered, listened to music, sat in my garden reading three of the most beautiful books I'd ever read by an Irish author Evie Woods. I ate clean and did many small walks. My journey was a connection to nature and beauty that I'd not experienced before. Also a journey back to myself.

I’m still on this path, but I’ve learned that survival doesn’t just mean getting through, it also means being supported, informed, calm, and strong. Trauma doesn’t cancel strength, it can build it, too. I’ve leaned on the people I trust and worked hard to guide myself through this journey with logic, focus, nature, music, food, books, and peace and quiet.

I’m now cancer free and have finished treatment, grateful to come away with my life once again. Breast cancer can begin with a painful lump so it's very important to get everything checked for peace of mind and early treatment. I am very lucky and privileged to be alive and to share my journey.