leeanna.maharaj@guardian.co.tt
During Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which was observed in October, many stories of survival and strength were told. One such story is that of Samantha Duncan, whose journey began when she was just 28 years old. A breast cancer diagnosis before the age of 30 is rare—but not unheard of.
“You always hear about getting screened for breast cancer from the age of 40. You always hear ‘get screened, do your mammograms, this, this, this.’ So at 28, that’s the last thing you’re thinking of,” the now 32-year-old Diego Martin resident shared.
Duncan vividly remembers the day something felt off. She was at work when she noticed a lump. At first, she didn’t think much of it.
“I went straight home and called my mother,” she recalled. “She told me to keep monitoring it—it could just be that phase of your cycle where things feel a little different. Two weeks later, I remember lying down in a certain position and it got painful. I thought, that’s not normal. So, I called Mommy back and she said, schedule a check-up at the Cancer Society. God forbid it’s anything, they would know what to advise. The very next day, I had a biopsy—but even before that, I knew something was off.”
Then, she said, she received a sign.
“At the doctor’s office, before the appointment, I sat in the waiting room praying. I said, ‘God, if you’re preparing me for something, just let me know.’ I made the sign of the cross—because I’m Catholic—and the electricity went. They had to reschedule everyone. I drove to Long Circular Mall, went to Pennywise, got chocolate—my comfort food—and sat in the car eating it. When they called me back, I went more mentally prepared to receive the news.”
That news confirmed what she had feared: Duncan was diagnosed with stage two breast cancer. It’s rare for someone her age, but doctors say it can happen—often linked to family history or genetics. Her world was suddenly turned upside down.
“Every single thing changed. I can’t say one thing changed the most, because everything did,” she said. “The first thing to change was definitely my mindset. All of a sudden, everything mattered—but nothing mattered at the same time.
“Some people might think I became more cold-hearted, but it’s not that. It’s just that after seeing how something can affect families so deeply, you realise people often complain about nonsense. Your perspective shifts, and you start to feel grateful for things you once took for granted.”
Financially, the experience was also eye-opening.
“You always hear of people running fundraisers for treatment, but experiencing it yourself is something completely different,” she said.
Her treatment included surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation, but she admits chemotherapy was the hardest.
“Chemotherapy lasted a few months, and it felt the most drawn out. Some days you feel fine, other days you feel awful. Losing my hair hurt me emotionally more than the diagnosis itself. That might sound vain, but it was my reality,” she said honestly.
“A lot of people go through treatment and don’t lose their hair. Lucky them. But that was really hard—especially when your body weight fluctuates. For me, it went up, and I was the heaviest I’d ever been. Looking in the mirror and seeing someone completely different—with no hair, eyebrows, or eyelashes—was shocking. It was like, who is this person?”
Today, Duncan is in remission and hopes to finish her medication soon. Yet, she’s mindful that not everyone shares her outcome.
“It’s been a long road, and I’m hoping I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel,” she said. “Unfortunately, it’s not that way for everybody. Along the journey, you meet a lot of people you lose. Some days you check your phone and see that someone from your support group has passed away. That’s really hard—but it also makes you more grateful for where you are.”
For Breast Cancer Awareness Month, Duncan’s message is one of awareness and inclusion.
“I wish everyone understood that not only young women—or women—are affected by breast cancer. I know of men in Trinidad and Tobago and across the Caribbean who are survivors. But because our focus is so socially geared towards women and girls, men aren’t comfortable sharing their stories. They’re not comfortable talking about their diagnosis. Even the breast cancer ribbon is pink, and we know that here in the Caribbean, a lot of men still won’t wear pink,” she said.
Duncan also wants people to understand that early detection saves lives, but so does maintaining a healthy lifestyle.
“Your lifestyle plays a huge role in recovery, prevention, and longevity,” she explained. “It’s one thing to overcome cancer and be in remission—but it’s another thing to stay there. I’ve seen people go back to their old habits once they’re in remission, depending on where they were in their diagnosis. Staying healthy is part of staying alive.”
