A breast cancer survivor at 28, she’s now a voice of hope
After her twin tested BRCA2-positive, Brooklyn Olumba got tested, leading to her own cancer diagnosis. Now she’s educating other young women of color.
“I learned that my aunt had breast cancer after she was told she had three months to live,” said Brooklyn Olumba.
Shortly after, her aunt passed away, leaving her shocked, grieving, and grappling with questions. Like what type of breast cancer was it and which treatments did she have? Was it hereditary? And if so, were Brooklyn and her fraternal twin sister, Bethany, both then 22, also at risk?
One year later, Bethany had genetic testing and discovered she carried the BRCA2 mutation, which meant she had an increased lifetime risk of up to 75 percent for breast cancer and up to 50 percent for ovarian cancer. Fresh out of college, Brooklyn couldn’t afford testing (which her insurance wouldn’t cover), so she put it off.
A safety net of surveillance
While Brooklyn began a pharmacy practice residency program at Penn Presbyterian Medical Center, her sister, in Virginia, began scheduling breast MRIs and mammograms, alternating one every six months.
“She kept telling me, ‘You really need to prioritize this,’” Brooklyn said.
Finally, when she was 25 and working in Philadelphia, Brooklyn got genetic testing and learned that she, too, had the BRCA2 mutation. She was later referred to Penn Medicine’s Basser Center for BRCA.
Brooklyn knew the BRCA mutations were associated with breast cancer, but it wasn’t until she met with a genetic counselor at Penn that she understood the other implications—like if her two older brothers had the mutation, their risk for developing prostate cancer would be elevated, too.
“That was really eye-opening for me,” she said.
Brooklyn, who is Black, explained that in many families of color, talking about illness is a cultural taboo. It explained why her aunt—diagnosed with breast cancer in her late forties—had waited two years to tell Brooklyn’s mom, and why they’d kept it secret for almost three more years.
Brooklyn now initiated conversations with her other family members, urging them to get genetic testing. If she couldn’t change her family history, perhaps she could rewrite the chapters still ahead.
Because Brooklyn had dense breast tissue, her genetic counselor recommended annual breast MRIs, which can detect early-stage cancers mammograms might miss. She and Bethany, still living in separate cities, timed their MRIs for the same month each year—Brooklyn getting hers at Penn.
When they were 28, her sister called and announced, “I just got my results and I’m clear.”
Days later, Brooklyn wouldn’t be as fortunate.
It was 5:30 p.m. when the radiologist called to break the news: The MRI showed breast cancer and a nurse navigator from Penn would be contacting her to schedule appointments.
Unmatched support
True to the radiologist’s word, a nurse navigator from Penn’s Abramson Cancer Center called the next morning. First, Brooklyn would meet via telehealth with Penn’s fertility specialist; she then had appointments lined up with breast surgeon, Alina M. Mateo, MD, MS, FACS, director of the Integrated Breast Center at Pennsylvania Hospital, and medical oncologist, Susan M. Domchek, MD, executive director of the Basser Center for BRCA.
Compounding the typical stress of a cancer diagnosis was the timing of it all. Brooklyn was diagnosed on March 9, 2020, and hospital protocols were changing dramatically due to the COVID-19 pandemic. She’d have to face her in-person appointments without any loved ones by her side.
During their telehealth appointment, the fertility specialist presented Brooklyn with options for fertility preservation, which is important for younger patients because treatments such as chemotherapy and radiation can affect reproduction. Suddenly, Brooklyn and her boyfriend (now husband) went from planning a future together to discussing whether to freeze her eggs or use a medication to protect her ovarian function, before starting treatment.
“I’m the type of person who likes having all of the information,” Brooklyn said, adding that everyone at Penn was good about explaining everything in detail and making sure she was comfortable with her choices.
Mateo, her breast surgeon, for example, drew diagrams to show Brooklyn where the cancer was and what surgery would entail, and explained how scars heal in people with more melanated skin.
“I absolutely loved her,” Brooklyn said, recalling how safe she felt with her surgeon.
At the end of the appointment, Mateo saw that Brooklyn was on the verge of tears and offered a hug. “That was exactly what I needed at that moment, because I was barely hanging on.”
Personalized treatment
Through treatment, Brooklyn’s team collaborated to provide the best possible care, their experience and training allowing them to adapt in real-time to new information and adjust her plan as needed.
Brooklyn had been diagnosed with stage 0 breast cancer, also known as ductal carcinoma in situ (DCIS), of the right breast, and would need surgery and possible radiation therapy. Brooklyn opted for a double mastectomy, which was Mateo’s recommendation given Brooklyn’s high risk for recurrence because of her BRCA2 mutation.
But the pathology report after the surgery revealed some invasive lobular carcinoma and very small tumors in the breast tissue that hadn’t been visible on imaging.
Brooklyn ended up getting upgraded to lymph node-positive cancer, “which completely changed my treatment plan,” she said. She would need chemotherapy next, not just radiation.
Because of her pharmacology training, Brooklyn was familiar with the drugs Domchek, her medical oncologist, was considering. They discussed several possible regimens and chose one with a lower risk for future cardiovascular problems (Brooklyn’s family had a history of heart disease) and a better chance at fertility preservation.
After four months of chemotherapy, Brooklyn proceeded with completion of her breast reconstruction and implant placement. Once she recovered, she finished treatment with 28 rounds of daily radiation therapy.
Brooklyn said breast reconstruction helped her reclaim a part of herself that breast cancer tried to take away. She had chosen over-the-muscle silicone implants, requiring only small incisions in the natural fold beneath each breast, after discussing various options in detail with Suhail K. Kanchwala, MD, the director of Penn’s RESTORE: Center for Advanced Breast Reconstruction.
“My scars are minimal and hidden, and that mattered more than I expected,” she said. “Now, when I look at my breasts, I don't immediately see the trauma I endured. I see strength and a version of me that I love.”
After completing treatment, she might have welcomed a break from focusing on cancer. Instead, Brooklyn went public with her story.
Transforming adversity into advocacy
In breast cancer support groups, Brooklyn often found she was the youngest patient and only person of color, and online searches for information on radiation scars yielded only images of white women.
“I started looking on social media for other young, Black breast cancer patients,” she said.
Brooklyn knew there had to be others like herself with similar experiences. She decided to share her story on Instagram, so that “if there was someone else out there like me who felt the same way, they could find my page and we could connect.”
Soon, her account was reaching young women worldwide. They messaged Brooklyn, saying they’d never felt so seen.
“It made me feel like this is something that I need to talk about more. I need to make it known that young Black women are getting breast cancer,” Brooklyn said.
Brooklyn also hopes to reduce the stigma around talking about health and learning about genetic risk factors and screening options. When her aunt died, she thought it was an isolated event and that nobody else in her family had had cancer. She now knows, “There was so much cancer in my family. We just didn’t talk about it.”
“The biggest thing that I want people to know is that your family’s history is also your history,” Brooklyn said. “If you’re not having these open conversations, you can’t be proactive.”