A dad-of-two opens up about beating breast cancer and coming to terms with fighting a ‘women’s disease’
Sean Comiskey was 18 when he discovered a lump on his chest but he ignored it for a year 'naively' assuming it would disappear
SEAN Comiskey, 35, is an outdoor instructor. He lives in Fort William in the Scottish Highlands with his wife Anna, 33, and children Freya, five, and Oisean, two. He says:
As I peeled off my wetsuit, a student noticed the scars on my chest and asked about them.
Taking a deep breath, I said: ‘I had breast cancer.’
It’s taken me a long time to feel comfortable saying that.
Growing up in Ireland, I was very sporty, so when I finished school I decided to do a degree in outdoor education.
It was during my first year at GMIT in County Mayo when I was 18 that I noticed a lump the size of a small grape behind my left nipple.
I ignored it, even when it grew bigger over the next year, naively assuming it would eventually disappear.
But in August 2000, a bloody discharge appeared from the nipple and I knew I had to see my GP.
He told me it was probably a cyst and arranged for me to have it removed under local anaesthetic in a few days’ time.
A week later, I got a call from the hospital – the lump was cancerous.
When I went to see the consultant at The Mater Hospital in Dublin, he said breast cancer in men was so rare that he couldn’t predict what my future held.
That afternoon, I bawled my eyes out thinking of all the things I might not get to do, such as travel or start a family.
Telling my parents was heartbreaking. My mum Kathleen burst into tears.
Because we lived in a small village, word spread quickly.
Being a typical man, I didn’t want to open up about it, especially as it was breast cancer – a ‘woman’s disease’.
But when I caught up with my mates, they were really supportive.
In September 2000, I had surgery to remove my left breast tissue and the lymph nodes under my arm, which left a 10cm scar across my chest. The following month I started chemotherapy.
It made me feel like I had a constant hangover, so I deferred uni for a year.
I tried to keep positive, but there were times when the ‘what ifs’ and ‘why me?’ crept in.
Finally, in March 2001 after a six-week course of radiotherapy, I was ready to restart my life.
I still didn’t like acknowledging I’d had breast cancer, so apart from monthly GP check-ups, as far as I was concerned I would never need to talk about it again.
I returned to my studies with a new appreciation of life and travelled the world once I graduated, eventually settling in Scotland in 2007, where I worked as an outdoor educator for a children’s charity.
Helping kids from all walks of life made me reflect on my own future.
For years, I’d preferred not to mention the type of cancer I’d had, but I realised that had to stop.
How else would people ever learn men could get it, too?
Once I spoke about it, everyone was so kind.
I couldn’t believe I’d wasted so many years feeling embarrassed.
In 2008 I met Anna, also an outdoor educator, through work.
When our relationship got serious, I told her about having breast cancer, but part of me still worried how she’d react – especially when I revealed that possible side effects of chemo included infertility.
But Anna was supportive and we left it to fate.
Thankfully, Freya was born in March 2011 and Oisean in March 2014.
I’m still cancer-free and work with charities including One For The Boys and Breast Cancer Care to raise awareness among men.
So many people don’t realise guys can get the disease – but I’m proof they can.
BTW
- Around 340 men in the UK are diagnosed with breast cancer each year.*
- Most men who get breast cancer are over 60.*
- More than eight out of 10 survive the disease beyond five years.**
Sources: *Breast Cancer Care **Breast Cancer Support. For more info, visit and