dellaram vreeland

When Danielle McKenzie-McHarg was first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2021, she was barely given a moment to deal with the shock before she was presented with three life-changing options.

“I had to decide whether to have a lumpectomy, single mastectomy, or double mastectomy, and I needed to make this decision as it was presented to me there in the surgeon’s room,” the Ballarat mother-of-two says. “I was totally unprepared for that, but I was desperate to have the surgery as quickly as possible.”

While she decided on the double mastectomy, which meant removing her breasts and nipples, it proved to be the most effective course of action since it decreased the risk of the cancer returning at a later point in time.

“My genetic testing revealed I carried that BRCA1 gene mutation which increases my lifetime breast cancer risk to around 80 per cent,” Danielle says. “If I still had my breasts I could potentially have another breast cancer.”

Undergoing intense chemotherapy for several months, Danielle chose to make the best out of a dire situation. “For each chemo session I would dress up in a fancy costume, with loud make-up and jewellery, and my husband would take my photo outside the hospital,” she says. “I was so scared of the chemo treatments (the first drug of the treatment was called the ‘red death’) that I didn’t want to just turn up in sweatpants with large under-eye bags and my teeth chattering away. I wanted armour. I wanted to show up with intention.

“My family and friends offered me their brightest and finest vintage clothes and I felt they were with me when I dressed up each week.”

“I wanted armour. I wanted to show up with intention.”

Danielle McKenzie-McHarg

When Danielle’s son was only five months old, her best friend took her own life and it was during that period of grief that she found the tumour in her left breast. “It was small, when I first felt it, and though it was painless I assumed it was something to do with breastfeeding. It couldn’t be a priority for me at that point, but a few weeks later I felt it again and it was noticeably larger, so I went to the doctor. It did not even cross my mind that it could be a cancer.

“I went through the tests – imaging and biopsy – but in my mind there was no way I could get sick, because that was something that only happened to other people. When I was finally diagnosed, I felt entirely numb. I went about organising appointments and doctor visits as though it was my job, rather than considering how life was on the line.

“The cancer was what’s called ‘triple negative’, which is particularly aggressive, but fortunately it hadn’t spread to the lymph nodes. It also responds well to chemotherapy. I didn’t cry, but I was stressed. I think I was blocking my emotions as much as I could because I didn’t have a way of dealing with them. The only point at which I remember really crying was when the nurse told me I would maybe not be able to have another child.”

When she was first diagnosed, her mother’s group organised to pack and move all of her family’s belongings into their first home. “Can you imagine a bigger favour or task? I still cry when I think about that incredible kindness,” she says. “One lovely lady told me that she received help at a difficult point in her life and that it was important to her to pass it on. I have held on to that sentiment and I often think about when and where I might be able to contribute to someone or something in such a kind and critical way.”

“The fact that a group of people that haven’t known me very long would provide help for my family in that way was profound. It gave me almost a new view of the world and a new understanding of empathy and kindness and how much that can mean to people.”

Danielle did go on to have another child, her baby girl Willow, then at the end of 2023 decided to have her ovaries removed. “That was the last step of the cancer journey – fingers crossed – removing my elevated ovarian cancer risk due to the BRCA1 gene mutation,” she says. Coming up to three years since her initial diagnosis, her chances of cancer recurring have dropped significantly.

Danielle’s family made the move to Ballarat from Canberra at the start of the pandemic when she was pregnant with her first child and keen to be closer to family. “We suspected a thriving regional centre would suit us well and we were right.”

“Parenthood has been a big change of lifestyle for us. Being a parent is a new way to experience the world – It makes me feel super vulnerable and scared for my children, but also incredibly optimistic.

“It’s hard not to be full of awe when looking at the universe through your child’s eyes. Like any parent my hopes for my children are that they can live full and just lives on this planet – and that the planetary destruction and disaster that they will witness in their lifetime will be balanced with hope for the future of humanity. And that they get to be themselves, without being pigeonholed by fears or stereotypes.”

She says she feels “incredibly lucky” to have a solid community around her, providing support through the most challenging times, and rallying around her and her children as they’ve navigated her cancer journey. “The kids’ lives are so much the better for that.”