- When Carol had a double mastectomy after diagnosis with aggressive triple negative breast cancer she resolved to stay positive
- She set up the Big Boobie Bash to raise money for breast cancer
- Finding like-minded cancer warrior Kate they set up the Shitty Titty Committee to help other women going through treatment.
- The Shitty Titty Committee and their ‘Tittfluencers’ support those with breast cancer all over Australia and the world with a smile and a laugh.
Here Carol Smith, 43 , Busselton, WA, tells her inspiring story in her own words.
The results aren’t what we’d hoped,’ my doctor said. ‘You have triple negative breast cancer.’
My head whirled – at just 36 it didn’t seem possible I had cancer. While my 38-year-old partner Adam’s eyes filled with tears I was too shocked to cry.
‘Just don’t google it,’ the doctor warned.
With no family cancer history, I’d put my constant exhaustion down to having young sons, Luke, then two, and Logan, five.
The devastating miscarriages I’d suffered started to ring alarm bells for me and my GP. Then one day my fingers traced a gristly lump the size of a long pea on my left breast.
While a mammogram was clear, I had a biopsy, and now, in October 2018, I reeled at being diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. Thirteen days later I began five months of chemo.
‘I craved to chat to people who really understood’
‘Mummy has some bad cells and is going to have medicine,’ I told the boys, who helped shave my hair.
Thankfully my parents John, then 68, and Janet, 63, were over from the UK and helped with the kids.
Despite wonderful support from family and friends, I craved to chat to people who really understood, so I sought out fellow breast cancer sufferers on social media.
After finishing chemo I had a choice – the surgeon explained I could have a lumpectomy and retain my breast, but need regular mammograms to determine if cancer had returned, or have the breast removed.
I opted for a double mastectomy, having the other breast removed to reduce risk of recurrence.
In April 2019, after the two-hour surgery, although it was confronting to see my chest without breasts, there was huge relief knowing I no longer had to check them or have mammograms.
It was such a life changing experience, that in January 2020 we packed up the kids and left the Central Coast, NSW, to travel Australia in a caravan.
I set up my Barefoot and Breastless blog, and connecting with other women with breast cancer was incredibly inspiring.
When we stopped at Mandalay holiday park in Busselton, WA, in 2021, we fell in love with it. Adam took a job as maintenance manager and we stayed.
‘It’s a club no-one wants to be a member of.’
There I met Heather, another mum. Being my first friend in Busselton, I told her my story.
In 2023, deciding to celebrate five years without cancer, she and I organised the Big Boobie Bash.
Online I came across Kate Grainger, who’d travelled 1400km from the Pilbara to Busselton Hospital to give birth to her son, only to be diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer.
Her cancer had metastasised into her lymph node and, at just 31, she started chemo nine days after her son was born. Kate and her husband, Joel, also had a two-year-old and four-year-old, so my heart went out to her and I reached out on Facebook.
It’s a club no-one wants to be a member of, she messaged back.
Kate had such a wicked sense of humour despite what she’d been through, I was in awe.
READ MORE: Breast cancer Survivor: I’m running marathons topless
‘We’re organising the Big Boobie Bash,’ I told her.
‘I’m in!’ she said .
The ball, with Kate and other cancer survivors attending, was wonderful, and we raised $30,000.
Afterwards a woman called Tammy contacted me who’d been at the ball.
She’d just been diagnosed.
By then Kate and I had become firm friends and, keen to help support Tammy and others, we decided to set up a group on Facebook messenger.
‘We should call it the Shitty Titty Committee,’ Kate suggested. It summed up choosing to laugh together rather than cry. The name stuck, so Kate and I started the page which quickly grew into a Facebook group.
Most members were under 50.
Soon we were meeting up monthly at cafes, discussing surgery, chemo and side effects, products for radiation rash, and our young families.
Some members had one breast, some had none, others had re-constructed boobs, tattooed nipples, or no nipples at all, but talking about our cancer journeys united us.
‘We should call it the Shitty Titty Committee,’ Kate suggested.
Organising the second ball in 2024, I mentioned I’d never rung the bell after chemo due to Covid. So we had a bell at the party. As I celebrated that night beside Kate and the others, it felt incredibly emotional.
And we raised $64,000.
READ MORE: My baby found my breast cancer
‘I’m really proud of you,’ Adam, then 44, told me.
We get messages from breast cancer survivors all over Australia and the world. We’ve even sent our T-shirts to members who then post on other social media sites – we call them Tittfluencers!
Logan, 12, and Luke, nine, take my cancer battle and flat chest in their stride.
I heard Luke telling a friend, ‘Mum’s meeting her Shitty Titty people!’
We have 25 members in person and over 600 on Instagram @shitty.titty.committee.
Our Bigger Boobie Ball this November was wonderful and took our total raised to over $100,000 for Breast Cancer Care WA. We’re supporting women with a smile and a laugh, to try and make the worst time in their lives better.
Because, as all cancer survivors know, amid the chaos, there can still be laughter and light.
Visit Shtty-Ttty-Committee on FaceBook.
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