“I knew menopause was going to come, but I still wasn’t really prepared for it.” 

Kellie lives in rural Queensland and was 45 when she learned she was positive for the BRCA1 pathogenic variant (gene mutation). She chose risk-reducing surgery, including ovary removal, knowing it would bring on menopause.  

“My relationship with cancer is quite layered,” Kellie says. There had been a lot of cancer in her family, but genetic testing began with her sister, who was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer while pregnant at 28, after having non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma at 17. Her sister was positive for the BRCA1 variant, which led Kellie to have testing too. 

Choosing surgery before cancer 

“I pretty much knew straight away that I was going to do something,” she says. “Even prior to knowing my own result.”  

Genetic testing gave Kellie the chance to make choices, something her sister hadn’t had. “I had watched her experience, which was quite forced and medical,” Kellie says. “No choice in her mastectomy and no choice in treatment. I thought, no, I’m not doing that. If I have an opportunity to find out and change the course of something, then I would do that.” 

Kellie chose to have risk-reducing surgery, including a double mastectomy, hysterectomy and ovary removal. She’d finished having children, and her husband came to every appointment as she worked through the decision. 

Knowing menopause is coming doesn’t mean you’re ready 

Before surgery, Kellie had experienced what she calls “soft parts of perimenopause”. Her periods had changed, and she’d had some hot flushes. She knew surgical menopause was coming, but the pace still surprised her. “I felt that it was going to be more of a slow, drawn-out sort of situation.” 

“Within a few days of my surgery, I started to experience physical symptoms, hot flushes and feeling really a bit weird and a bit funny,” she says. “I sort of realised what was happening and I thought, okay, we’ll just see how this goes, and yeah, it was a ride.” 

The hot flushes after surgery felt different. “It was just like, whoa,” she says. “It starts at your head, and it goes down through your body.” 

“It literally feels like you’re induced when you’re pregnant, like they break your waters and you’re just thrown straight into that labour. It’s just like bam. That’s how it felt for me.” 

There’s more to menopause than hot flushes 

The emotional impact was harder to untangle. Kellie was recovering from surgery, her hormones had changed suddenly, and her father had died 10 days earlier after a long illness. 

“It was a bit of a messy time,” she says. Journalling helped her process her feelings. “When I read my thoughts at that time, they’re very messy, very scattered.” 

She also wasn’t prepared for how menopause might affect intimacy and how she felt in her body. “I never really stopped and thought about the fact that sexually that’s going to feel really different,” she says. She compares it to the uncertainty of being intimate with your partner again after having a baby. And, just like childbirth, “You figure out your body’s amazing and it recovers, and off you go again.” 

Kellie’s doctor advised her to avoid hormone replacement therapy. “So, I just was like, okay, if it’s a no-go, then let’s try something else.” 

That something else was trial and error. “I call my journey through menopause a really raw dogging experience. I just did it. I tried every form of anything that could help me.” She changed her diet, tried acupuncture, naturopathy, vitamins and essential oils.  “There were days none of it worked. But I just did it.” 

Finding a different kind of normal 

Six years later, Kellie’s symptoms are starting to settle. “I don’t have the physical symptoms. I don’t have the flushes like I was. I still have elements of symptoms. And menopause affects so much, from your headspace all the way down.”   

When she tried to return to everyday life, she wanted normality. “But I realised really quickly that version of normality was different.” She expected to feel like herself again but didn’t. “Not physically the same, or internally the same.”  

“I was putting pressure on myself to like everything that I’d previously liked or to do everything that I’d previously done.” Eventually, she began to let that go. “Why am I trying to be this version? I’m not even that person anymore. Just be this person.” She realised she might not find joy in the same things as before but could find it somewhere new. 

Finding information and connection 

For Kellie, advice about menopause after risk-reducing surgery is “a bit of a grey area”, especially for the inherited cancer community. Living rurally made access to information and specialists harder, and she encourages people to use telehealth or travel to find someone who understands inherited cancer risk. 

Inherited Cancers Australia (ICA) helped Kellie feel less alone. She’d seen overseas resources but wanted information that reflected risk-reducing surgery in Australia. “When I found ICA, I was so happy that organisation here in Australia that recognised what people like me were going through. 

Her advice is to ask about life after surgery, not just the operation itself. “Really talk about the ‘after’, not just the surgery. Really talk about menopause and what it’s going to mean.” And include your partner in those conversations. 

Beyond medical information, Kellie says “Connection is massive. Connection is key.” 

When Kellie had to find her own way through, she came back to one mantra: “Mindset is everything. I had that written out in so many places in my house.” 

“We can’t choose our scenarios necessarily, but we can choose our mindset.”