Pioneering surgeon Dr Harjit Kaur says this is what prioritising women’s breast health looks like

Today, she is a firm proponent of more women pursuing surgical specialties—“Women often bring a meticulous, methodical approach to their work, and in specialties like breast surgery, patients find female surgeons more relatable and often feel comfortable opening up to them,” Harjit says.

But sometimes, even razor-sharp focus and experience as a surgeon cannot fully prepare you for the tougher moments, from having to break the bad news to patients’ families or make those unpopular decisions in the face of tremendous pressure.

“One of the most pivotal lessons I’ve learned in my career is that we, as doctors, are not invincible,” she admits. “In the beginning, you believe that if you just do everything right, you can save your patients. But with time and experience, you realise that even when everything seems to be going well, cancer can return. And when it does, you’re the one who has to help the family navigate that pain. Over the years, I’ve also learned the emotional cost of becoming too attached. As doctors, we build relationships with our patients—we get to know them and, often, their families too.” 

She recalls a particularly difficult experience caring for longtime patient whose cancer returned aggressively, eventually having to explain to the woman’s two teen children that they were going to lose their mother. “That moment taught me the importance of maintaining just a bit of emotional distance. Trying not to cry while saying those words was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.” 

See more: Using bioacoustics in conservation: How Malaysian researcher Dr Aini Hasanah is protecting our endangered gibbon populations

Balancing that fine line of caring deeply and supporting patients while knowing when to maintain emotional distance is not an easy task. Yet Harjit’s priority remains the same—ensuring that she is there to walk that journey with her patients and offer honesty, support and presence through those tough times.       

“We also learn that medicine is not just about doing everything—it’s about knowing when not to. Some patients come to us with advanced disease where further aggressive treatment would offer no real benefit and only cause more harm. In those moments, the most compassionate choice might be palliative care and focusing on comfort and dignity rather than cure. That shift in thinking only comes with experience and maturity, and it’s something I had to grow into over time,” she adds.

“Of course, as the science evolves, so must we. Breast cancer treatment has become far more holistic and personalised. It’s no longer just about surgery—it’s about understanding tumour biology, using targeted therapies, and choosing less invasive approaches where possible. We now know that “less is more” in many situations.”

Touching on the evolving face of women’s health and the gaps still apparent in how we approach breast cancer, Harjit shares these insights: “Many women don’t realise breast cancer can happen to anyone,” she says. “There’s a kind of blasé attitude, especially among younger women—they think they’re too young, or that it’s something that only happens after menopause. That may have been the case in the past, but not anymore.”

“We’re now seeing breast cancer in women in their twenties and thirties—my youngest patient was just 19. That’s why we really need to change how people think about breast health. It’s not something you deal with only when you’re older or once you feel a lump. In fact, in its early stages, breast cancer is completely painless. That’s what makes it so dangerous, it can grow quietly for years without you even knowing it’s there. By the time a lump becomes obvious or painful, it could already be advanced.”

Being proactive, not reactive

Knowing what we know today, what kind of mindset should younger women have about their breast health, even those with no family history of cancer? How do we as women normalise going for breast check-ups and screenings as casually as visiting our family doctor or getting a facial?

“I always recommend that women begin basic breast surveillance—like an ultrasound—every year from the age of 25, especially if there are any risk factors. And we need to normalise regular breast self-checks, so women are familiar with their own bodies and can notice even subtle changes.”

“Waiting for external prompts—like awareness campaigns or once-a-year screening events—before taking action is another issue. Breast health should be a personal priority all year round. It’s your body, your life—investing that little bit of time each year could save it.”

In a field that once offered women a grim “mastectomy or nothing” ultimatum, Harjit’s approach brings both precision and compassion. “We’re helping more women actually accept their diagnosis and go through with the treatment,” she says. “When you tell a woman she has to lose her breast, and that’s the only option, it’s incredibly difficult—emotionally and psychologically. But when we’re able to offer immediate reconstruction as part of the surgical plan, it changes how women respond. With proper counselling and the ability to present real options, they feel they have a way forward.”

Her work has helped patients cope with the most difficult times of their lives, bringing dignity, choice, and emotional healing to the operating table.

Still, she doesn’t pretend any of it has been easy. “You do face resistance or red tape,” she admits. “It’s about educating others, showing them the value of what you're proposing, and making sure it’s a rational, well-thought-out idea. If you can do that, you’ll usually find a way forward and things generally fall into place.”

Dr Harjit attributes much of her unshakeable resolve to her mentor, Dato’ Dr P. Kandasami. “He is the person who truly made me a surgeon,” she says. “He taught me that being a surgeon isn’t just about skill—it’s about listening, understanding, and being present for your patients.”

Interestingly, Harjit’s first career choice was law, and she spent three months at law school before realising that it wasn’t for her.  “When I first chose surgery, even my father—who was a doctor himself—tried to dissuade me,” she shares. “He said, ‘You’ll want to have children one day, how will you manage a career in surgery?’. Thankfully, I had a mentor who encouraged me to pursue what I was passionate about, and that support made all the difference. Women can thrive as surgeons and also have fulfilling personal lives—it just takes support.”

She’s living proof of that. Whether guiding patients through a diagnosis or inspiring the next generation of women surgeons, Harjit’s presence in Malaysia’s healthcare landscape is bold, compassionate, and enduring.

“I’m someone who needs human connection in my work,” she says. “That’s why I chose medicine—and why I’ve never looked back.”

Front & Female Changemakers celebrates the extraordinary journeys of inspiring women who have emerged as powerful changemakers in a range of fields, offering a glimpse into their lives and showcasing their courage, vision and relentless pursuit of change and progress. From social entrepreneurs and business leaders to educators, artists, activists and scientists, Front & Female changemakers exemplify the ability to challenge the status quo and demonstrate the power of women to effect change.

NOW READ

How AVPN is putting women at the centre of philanthropy and investment in Asia

Can business save the world? Sustainability advocate Chaye Cabal-Revilla thinks so

Fintech as an equalising force: how Beena Pothen is bridging the digital divide and championing financial inclusion for women entrepreneurs in Malaysia