My life and that of my family stood still on 12 March 2018. Out of nowhere, my mother was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a disease I had never heard of until that moment. I wasn’t aware it was an asbestos-related cancer, or even that asbestos caused cancer.
What I didn’t know then, and had no way of knowing, was that in less than 12 months, I would lose my beautiful, vivacious mother.
Like any family that loses someone precious, our journey has not been easy. We fought and fought to keep my mother alive, searching for every possible option that might save her, but we failed. It was easily the worst year of our life as we grabbed upon and clung to every opportunity we had for hope, only to see it snatched away from us, often in the cruellest and off-hand way.
We lost Mum on 20 January 2019, and after a period of mourning and reflection, I realised there was one last thing I needed to do for her. It’s something that I know she would urge me to do if she were still alive – help other people.
She wouldn’t want anyone else to suffer like we did. I can’t banish mesothelioma, however much I would love to. What I can do, though, is help other families who receive the same devastating diagnosis that we did.
In 2019, we set up the Glynnis Gale Foundation to support and raise awareness for those affected by mesothelioma in South Africa. We believe in this cause deeply, but it has not been easy.
The silent killer you’ve barely heard of
Even though thousands of people are diagnosed each year, very little is widely known or understood about this cancer. While I’m not medically trained, my journey has given me a deep understanding of the disease, sometimes even surpassing that of some medical professionals I’ve encountered.
Mesothelioma is an aggressive cancer that develops in the lining of the lungs, abdomen, uterus and other organs when the patient inhales or swallows asbestos fibres. This terminal illness often goes unrecognised, rarely making headlines. In South Africa, it is frequently misdiagnosed as TB.
In my own experience, it required weeks and months of persistent research to uncover even a fraction of the necessary information. I encountered some medical professionals who were evasive or misinformed. We will never know if it had an impact on the outcome of our story, but it certainly had an impact on the treatment my mother received and her mental health.
Where it all begins: A magic mineral with a toxic legacy
Asbestos, once called the ‘magic mineral’, is a cheap, durable material with fire-resistant properties. Initially, it seemed to be the answer to everything and was in high demand globally for use in a wide range of products, from insulation and water tanks to floor tile adhesive, drywalls and roof tiles. It was also mixed with cement and even woven into fabrics.
For over a century, international corporations have heavily exploited South Africa’s rich asbestos deposits. Despite being aware of the dangers as early as the 1920s, these companies continued their mining operations until the late 1970s and local mining continued until the turn of the century. Both local and international firms have left behind nearly 1,000 unrehabilitated asbestos mines, and to a large extent, they have avoided social accountability and financial liability for their actions.
Though the last mine closed in 2002, the consensus among experts is that major diseases caused by asbestos are now epidemic in South Africa. Due to extensive environmental contamination, these health issues are expected to persist for many years to come.
The toll on women and families
We are only beginning to understand the full extent of asbestos’s impact on human health. What we do know is that the risk of exposure and disease extends far beyond traditional male-dominated industries like mining and construction. Women and children are also significantly affected, often in unexpected ways.
In the United States, where more research has been conducted than in South Africa, the American Lung Association reports that women in professions such as healthcare and teaching are vulnerable, likely due to the historical use of asbestos in the materials used to build hospitals and schools. Additionally, women and children are at risk of secondary exposure from asbestos fibres on the clothing of spouses and family members who work in industries heavy with asbestos.
A Mesowatch analysis revealed that there was a striking 25.5% increase in the number of senior women who died from mesothelioma between 1999 and 2020. This trend suggests there’s an urgent need for more research, better preventive measures and innovation in treatments, particularly for women over the age of 50, given the 20-30-year latency period of mesothelioma.
Tracing my mother’s exposure to asbestos
Unlike the families we support through our Foundation in South Africa, who were exposed to asbestos in and around former mining towns, my mother’s exposure originated from a less recognised source. She came into contact with asbestos through cosmetic talc in beauty products purchased overseas.
Talc, also known as talcum powder, forms part of many people’s daily routines as an ingredient in baby powder, cosmetics and other personal care products. Talc deposits often naturally coexist with asbestos in the ground and are mined in the same areas. If proper safety measures are not enforced, there’s a risk of cross-contamination during the mining and processing phases, potentially introducing asbestos into products that so many women use daily without a second thought.
The birth of the Glynnis Gale Foundation
In the wake of my mum’s heartbreaking battle with mesothelioma, my husband and I embarked on a fact-finding mission to understand the broader relationship between mesothelioma and asbestos. Our journey led us to the epicentre of the asbestos industry in South Africa, where we decided to focus our work.
Founded in honour of my mother, the Glynnis Gale Foundation supports and advocates for families dealing with mesothelioma and wrestling with the socio-economic challenges left behind by the asbestos industry.
You never really get over losing someone to this disease, and the void they leave in your heart is there every single day, but you learn to live with their loss. The work we do helps me make sense of Mum’s death. We want to ensure that her legacy inspires both hope and change.
If your family is dealing with a mesothelioma diagnosis, or if you suspect you may be impacted, get in touch here for more information and support.