“It’s as if time stops. The noise shuts off, the room dissolves away, and you’re suddenly in a silent state of shock.
You hear the words again. The doctor says, ‘It’s cancer Brett, and we need to get you into treatment immediately’.”
On any given day in downtown Orangeville, you will come across a lovely restaurant whose decor, staff, service, and of course its food, all rank amongst the best there is. Once inside, you might think to yourself “this restaurant owner really knows what they’re doing, I wonder who it is?” And, I think most would be surprised to see that the same pretty lady greeting you with that warm smile when you walk in, or even serving you your dinner, is owner Brett Jaggard, a restaurateur who’s success factor is not only driven by her keen business savvy, but also by her strength, determination, and an intense desire to survive.
When you meet Brett you are instantly smitten. Not just that she’s a beautiful young woman, but also wickedly funny with a little sass thrown in for good measure.
But unlike her business, where her hard work has paid off with success, her life/health journey over the past several years has been anything but.
“I never felt ill” Brett begins. “I had broken my leg in 2016, and about 6 or 7 months later, I began to feel tired, but simply thought it was a result of the broken leg and a corresponding lack of exercise. It was not until one morning when I woke up and thought I had rolled over something in my bed. It felt as if my necklace or bracelet had fallen into the sheets and was pressing into my breast. As I searched around the bed for whatever object was there, I soon realized that this was not an object that had come detached from me, this was a lump inside me that was sore to the touch.”
There was an immediate visit to the doctor. Brett’s mother was diagnosed with breast cancer back in 2010 and is still fighting the battle as we speak. The doctor sent Brett for a mammogram, and the results came back positive. “Everything is fine, there’s nothing to concern yourself with for now, but come back in a year for a re-check.” To say that Brett was relieved was an understatement, and the news had come at just the perfect time. “I was leaving the next day for England to vacation with my best friend Claire”, says Brett. “I was able to hop on that plane with relief and joy knowing that I was fine. The 2 weeks away were wonderful, however Claire and I were both noticing that the lump on my breast was changing, and growing. I knew something just wasn’t right. But I knew it must be nothing to be worried about as the mammogram came back fine so we enjoyed the rest of our time together, and I planned to go see my doctor when I got back home.”
In her spare time, Brett rides horses. When she arrived back home from England, she went to the stables and was riding that day with a good friend of hers, who’s husband (also a good friend) is a doctor himself. “I had explained the situation to him, and he wanted to see me at his office the next day where he could pull the mammogram results himself and give me a second opinion. When I did see him, he sent me for a biopsy. As a matter of fact, he was so concerned, he would not let me leave the clinic until the biopsy was done. A few days later, he delivered the news.
That’s the moment when time stood still. With tears in his eyes and in mine we were all shocked, stunned, and devastated.”
Things were now about to move very fast for Brett, faster than anyone could have anticipated. In a much needed and poignant moment, Brett went back out to the stables, laid her head against her horse’s neck and quietly whispered, “It’s happening… this is happening.”
“For the next 3 weeks I went through non-stop testing. The doctors asked me how much I was willing to go through with all of the testing and I said go for it – I can take it all! Everything was developing so fast, and everyone involved knew they had to get a handle on this sooner rather than later. As the results came in, it was determined that I had ‘Triple Negative, BRCA 2’ breast cancer. The Triple Negative is an aggressive form of breast cancer. They had to get me on chemo fast. My response to the chemo was key. So off I went to get my first ‘chemo-cocktail’ – a phrase my mom and I share regarding our various mixtures of chemotherapy drugs. Not everyone’s cancer is the same, and not everyone has the same treatment routines. My cocktail hit me hard. The cancer was too big to remove right away so they needed to shrink it aggressively before they could operate. Then came the day that I would have my double mastectomy, which was a difficult decision, but in hindsight the absolute right choice. What had been previously unknown, and came as quite a surprise to everyone, is that the genetic link to my cancer was not to my mother’s side, but to my father’s. I had been part of a genetic study at Sunnybrook Hospital as the doctors were very interested in the Triple Negative diagnosis. Sure enough it was determined that my father’s side, both his mother and father, were the actual genetic links to my disease.”
So Brett was now to endure the painful process of the removal of both of her breasts. The pain exists not just in the physical aspect, but more so from a human being aspect, a womanly aspect. “Now in hindsight, it all seems a little vain, however I knew I was going to lose my hair, I knew I was going to lose my breasts, and I began to feel that I was being robbed of both my body and my femininity. I really felt that as I was going through all of it, the cancer, the treatment, and the surgery, it had left me just a shell, empty and lonely. I had to learn how to forgive myself – forgive myself for being tired, and forgive myself for being distant both professionally and personally. It was very difficult back in the restaurant because while the staff knew what was happening, obviously the clientele did not. I wanted people to come into my space and have a positive, joyful experience, and I didn’t want dark clouds hovering over anyone. The decision to go back to work certainly provided for some funny moments, and some moments where thinking quickly on my feet were critical.”
“I’ve never had long, luxurious hair,” explains Brett, “so all of the sudden I was wearing a wig, and getting all sorts of compliments on how awesome my hair was. People were asking what I was doing differently, who my stylist was, so I had to be very vague in the way I answered. I would tell people I go to a place in downtown Toronto but I couldn’t remember the exact name. When people questioned as to where I’d been lately, as they hadn’t seen me around, I would tell them that I was taking a little more time off for some self-care. Thank God for the staff, because they were superstars when it came to supporting me, and keeping my secret. Plus, it always helps when your wig is on crooked, and one of your staff grabs you before you go out on the floor! Or, your ‘enhanced’ eyebrows start smudging and they let you know you need a bit of a touch up! Seeing and enjoying the humour in these types of things is essential to getting through it all.”
At the end of it all, Brett was put on a maintenance drug that would last for 8 weeks. After 6 weeks, the pain was so intense it was crippling, and although she was doing very well on the medication, she wanted/needed her life back. “Some things as simple as getting the credit cards out of my wallet were agonizing. The skin on my fingers and feet were sloughing off, and it was becoming impossible to do even the most minor of tasks.”
Fast forward to the winter of 2019.
“My family and I were meeting for a holiday and I had decided to go 2 days early to have a little ‘me time’”, explains Brett.
“I spent 2 days on the ski hills and the conditions were perfect. The powder was deep and soft, just how a skier would like it. After a couple of runs I seemed to be out of breath, and I was sweating profusely. I was soaked actually, but freezing at the same time. I knew it was strange, but chalked it up to once again just being out of shape. Yes, the signs were there, but I was not going to listen. The rest of the holiday was wonderful, and I felt fine.
Once home, life went back to normal. I was back to work, and things were fine. One Friday night at the restaurant I went to the basement to get something. I hadn’t told anyone that I was going down there, so when the pain in my abdomen came on, and came on strong, I couldn’t move. I had been having some minor pain flare-ups recently, but was sort of ignoring it. But this was bad. I eventually got myself back up the stairs, went home, and went to bed thinking I would see how I felt in the morning. Again, something wasn’t right.”
Brett was scheduled for a CT scan, and received the news that she had a large mass on her ovaries. It was the size of a grapefruit, and it was cancer. More testing began, and more bad news was coming Brett’s way.
Amongst everything else going on, Brett had developed a small cough, almost like a tickle in her throat. Eventually she went to the doctor because she was unable to catch her breath. Even speaking to customers at the restaurant became impossible. Her doctor put her on a puffer which seemed to help, but was not going to be a cure. While the ovarian cancer testing was underway, and treatment options were being discussed, it was discovered that Brett also had cancer that metastasized to her liver, right kidney, left adrenal and lungs. While originally a hysterectomy was on the table as an option for the ovarian cancer treatment, that option was now gone. “They told me that with everything now happening, that my chances of surviving a hysterectomy would be very slim.”
Now, a new treatment plan would have to be determined.
The passing seasons bring certain changes, and Brett had been experiencing what she considered seasonal headaches. When her migraines began, and her vision became blurry, she thought it was simply down to the change of the season. She would be wrong.
“My headaches became so severe that I had to pull down my blackout curtains, turn off everything so all noise and light would be blocked out, and I went to bed for 2 days. No one really knew where I was, or what was happening. I finally called my mom and I was rushed to emergency right away. We told them I was a cancer patient, and gave them my history. At this point, I had let my body get depleted so badly I could barely function.” The doctors ordered a CT scan of Brett’s brain. Devastating news. Brett had 9 tumours in her brain. The cancer was metastasizing at a rapid rate, but the doctors could not figure out the origin; if it was breast or ovarian. Testing and treatment would have to be aggressive, and it would have to start immediately.
“The radiation was so intense, that my body couldn’t take anymore and it simply shut down. I had experienced a minor seizure as a result of how much my body had gone through, and that it simply needed a rest.” She was hospitalized for 5 days while she endured exhaustive radiation treatments that at one point left her confined to a wheelchair for 3 days.
Now it was time for more chemo cocktails. Brett was ready. Well, as ready as one can be. The chemotherapy needed to address her entire body. At this point Brett had tumours in her lungs, her ovaries, her liver, her kidneys, and her brain.
“I changed the way I managed my treatment this time, and I decided to do things differently.
This time I would take care of my body. I would nourish it. Little changes like having a nurse come in after chemotherapy to give me fluids. I meditated. I did visualization exercises, where I would explode my cancer cells into unicorns and rainbows, things that were light and positive. I stopped keeping everything a secret. I shared more. I researched more. I spoke to the doctors, and questioned what and why they were doing things. I looked into different treatment options. I connected more to my body and I listened to it very carefully.”
That’s when a research team at Sunnybrook suggested Brett take part in a trial drug study. The issue was that they could not guarantee whether she would receive the actual drug, or get the placebo. After researching the drug, and seeing the positive results, Brett and her family were determined to get her on the drug no matter what the cost. While the actual cost of this drug was significant, it was not money alone that enabled Brett to get the medication she so desperately needed. It was also the love of her stepfather to be exact.
“My stepfather would stand in front of the leadership team at the Frank Stronach Cancer Centre in Newmarket, and would tirelessly plead my case as to why I had to get on this medication. ‘No’ was never an option for him. ‘We can’t’ was never an option for him. It was always how, when, and where. And it worked.”
To date, Brett has been on an incredible road to full recovery. I will never forget the day she told me that her cancer was leaving, that it was in remission. She was healthy. We cried happy, happy tears.
Her lessons are simple:
- Lean on your support system.
- Have a sense of humour.
- Research and question everything.
- Stay positive.
- Decrease stress.
- Listen to your body.
- Listen to your intuition.
I’ve always seen Brett as a success, even before I knew of her brave and determined journey to beat cancer. However, she’s taught me that success isn’t measured by what you do, or even who you are. Success, she believes, comes from how you manage your life. The way you show up everyday. She’s taught me that grace doesn’t always come in the form of beauty, and that strength doesn’t always come in the form of the physical. And that more than ever, life is to be lived, no matter what.
Life is to be lived.
Written by: Kelli M. Maddocks
