Jo White

The first known descriptions of breast cancer date back to beyond 3,000 BC. Hippocrates described the progressive stages of breast cancer in 400 BC, when he outlined his theory for its cause. Although breast cancer mortality rates have been decreasing since the 1970s, approximately 11,400 women and 85 men die of breast cancer every year. That is 32 deaths from breast cancer every single day of the week. We all know someone who has been impacted by breast cancer—a mother, a sister, a granny, a daughter, a colleague or a friend. For me that was my nan, the matriarch of the family, a character, fit and healthy, who went out daily to clean other people’s houses. We lost her when I was 19 years old. She was too embarrassed to show her breast to her doctor, and explained away her lump as an injury caused by falling off a window ledge when cleaning windows. By the time she finally went to the doctor, it was too late, and she died months later. We lost her too soon. Perhaps it was also fear that kept her away; two of her sisters were also taken by breast cancer. That is such a familiar story. So many women being treated for breast cancer tell of family members—aunts, sisters, mothers, grandmothers—who have been through the same experiences. My nan was of Jewish descent. It is now known that Jewish people of Ashkenazi heritage have a one in 40 chance of carrying the BRCA gene mutation, which means a much higher chance of developing breast cancer—a one in two chance before the age of 70. For the sake of my family, I am currently having genetic screening to check that, if it was the familial cause, it has not been passed down. I urge every woman of Jewish heritage to do the same. Screening is provided free by the NHS and can be done in the home.