Not every HSE story is a bad one

A routine mammogram torpedoed Jillian Godsil into a system that was speedy, effective, and kind, writes Jillian Godsil

Fri, 16 Jan, 2026 - 01:07

Jillian Godsil

The HSE is used to criticisms; this week figures released by the Irish Nurses and Midwives Organisation (INMO) point to 708 people waiting for beds. Today I want to tell a different story, a positive one about the Breast Check Clinic.

On October 1 of last year, I was called for a routine mammogram. I thought nothing of it, even when the nurse said I might be called back to attend the Breast Check Clinic in Vincent’s. A week later I had that invitation.

A small matter, I thought, and I arrived at the hospital with a book and headphones. The letter said the appointment might take the whole morning, so I presumed there would be long periods of waiting. I was wrong.

What I was not prepared for was the onslaught for three hours. I was greeted by a smiling nurse who brought me into the consultancy rooms. I was pointed towards a cubicle where I undressed my upper half and put everything into a shopping basket.

I had been given a poncho which fastened up in front. I still spent several minutes trying to find the non-existent arms. In another room with similarly garbed women, I discovered we had all searched for arms. We looked like a gaggle of handmaidens.

I had mammograms where my right breast was vigorously pummelled into shape. Then I was examined using ultrasound. About 60 minutes in I said, “This is not nothing?” No, indeed it was not. There was a small pea-shaped lump which they suspected was cancer.

Back to the mammogram room where I was set up for biopsy, again flattened in the machine. It took three women to pin the offending breast down. Once satisfied they could see the lump, they took a biopsy and inserted a marker. All the while another nurse held my hand and told me not to look.

Three weeks later, on October 31, I was back in Vincent’s to see my surgeon and get the results of the biopsy. A top plastic surgeon, he carefully explained they had found cancer, but it was very small and early.

He spoke kindly, so much so, it took me about five minutes to understand it was cancer.

“Oh, so I’ve got cancer,” I said, comprehension dawning. He continued explaining and answering my many questions.

On November 13 I got my invite to surgery. The Breast Check unit is administered under the private wing of the hospital, and I was to attend on Tuesday, December 2. Prior to that, I had another appointment to have a “mag-seed” inserted into my right breast to make sure the surgeon could find it — a tiny pulsating X that marked the spot.

Now I was in full cancer mode. I told a lot of people and had strange dreams, including one in which John Banville, man of letters, praised my bosom. It wasn’t rude, just mad and artistic.

Looking at my diary, I see I had entered a quote from Einstein in late November — “nothing happens until something moves” — and this was happening for sure.

December 2 arrived fast. Everything about my experience was like cancer on steroids: things happened quickly. I was admitted and, like the handmaids from before, found pockets of conversation with women.

We didn’t jump right in, but once we talked, we went deep. I met women who were very scared and women who were confident.

I was pulled into surgery before lunch. I was now in the scared variety. There seemed to be a lot of people in the theatre, but the anaesthetist talked to me and my surgeon greeted me, asking how I was. I was fine.

I was fine some hours later when I woke. I was brought back to my room, settled in, and slept. A doctor from the surgical team came in and said they were happy. Later that evening my surgeon popped in and said he was happy. I was so happy at this stage; I told him he was fine.

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I had to wait until December 17 to get my results. The news was great. They got the cancer. It had not spread. I was technically cancer-free.

Yes, this year I will need to be assessed for radiotherapy, to see what preventive treatment I may need. I will also require medication and regular monitoring.

The Breast Check health system picked up the cancer randomly and then pushed me through a system that left my head spinning. Everyone I met — from the receptionist to the nurses, the surgical team and my lovely surgeon — were exceptional. Kindness exemplified their treatment.

The speed at which I was looked after was phenomenal, and the results were amazing at every stage. I know not everyone will have such a light brush with cancer, but I was in good hands. Not every HSE story is a bad one.