Elsa Torrejon in Toronto, Wednesday, Feb. 18, 2009. Diagnosed with breast cancer, Torrejon showed up for work as usual after informing her employer of her condition. Her boss told her to hand in her keys and leave the building; they had accepted her resignation. (Sun Media/Stan Behal)

TORONTO -- It was just a few weeks ago when Elsa Torrejon received the most devastating news of her life.

"It's breast cancer," the surgeon said. "We have to operate."

When she arrived back at work a few hours later to tell her boss the grim results, the 50-year-old single mother of two was still reeling from the diagnosis. "You never want to hear that word," Torrejon says, wiping away the tears that still slip down her face.

She couldn't imagine her world could crumble any further. But a few days later, it did.

In her darkest moment of need, her heartless employers decided to yank away her job as well.

A native of Lima, Peru, Torrejon has worked as an English and Spanish-speaking leasing agent for Weston Property Management since May. Her bosses, Geri and Doug McDonald, knew she was being examined for a suspicious lump in her right breast in December and adjusted her hours so that she could go through a battery of tests.

On Jan. 30, she told them the crushing results and that her mastectomy had been scheduled for Feb. 13 at William Osler Health Centre. Her intent was to work right up until the day before the operation and then take off time for surgery and chemotherapy.

They extended their sympathies, Torrejon says, but pressed for her plans in writing. On Feb. 2, she hand-wrote a letter repeating her intention to work until Feb. 12.

The next day, though, her ex-husband convinced her to seek a second opinion at Princess Margaret Hospital. On Feb. 4, Torrejon informed the McDonalds of her change in plans and wrote a letter saying that she would now continue working until she had a new surgery date from PMH.

Their reply was almost as shocking as her cancer diagnosis.

"I would remind you that on Jan. 30/09 you indicated that you would be terminating your position as leasing agent," Doug McDonald wrote. "I indicated to you at that time that you must provide me with a signed letter indicating your final decision. On Monday Feb. 2/09 you provided me with this letter indicating your last day to work would be Feb 12/09. I accepted this letter in good faith. On Feb. 4/09 you provided me with another letter indicating that you changed your mind and that you would continue working until further notice."

McDonald then went on to say that he had checked with the ministry of labour and that once an employee resigns in writing, it can't be withdrawn. "Your last day," he concluded, "will be Feb. 12/09 as originally indicated."

Torrejon couldn't believe what she was reading. Nowhere in her letter or her conversations with the McDonalds had she ever suggested quitting her job. As an ill single mom, resigning is the last thing she could afford to do right now.

In Canada since 1986, she understands the meaning of "resigning" and it's a word she never used.

Instead, it looked very much like they were firing her for having cancer -- and expecting her not to raise a fuss.

"I'm not quitting, I'm not resigning. They don't seem to understand," Torrejon says angrily. "I have two kids at home. I have to go through surgery and chemotherapy, I don't have family here and now they want to fire me from my job?"

She expected a pat on the shoulder, a promise to stand by her, a pledge to hold her job until she was well enough to return. What she didn't expect was a boot out the door.

"They are very mean and cold," she says, her eyes dark from these recent sleepless nights. "They don't have feelings. How can you act like that to someone who's sick?"

How indeed.

At their management office, a flustered Geri McDonald repeated their contention that Torrejon had submitted a letter of resignation. When told that we had seen a copy of the letter and it appeared to be nothing of the kind, McDonald pursed her lips and said, "I have nothing else to say."

Torrejon refused to believe they could be so uncaring. But when she tried to return to work on Feb. 13, she was told to hand in her keys and leave the premises.

As an immigrant, they may have expected her to simply give up. But they have badly misjudged her. "I am a citizen," Torrejon says. "I'm supposed to stay quiet? No."

A lawyer from the Human Rights Legal Support Centre drafted a letter on her behalf reminding the McDonalds that under the code, employers must accommodate their employees with disabilities and Torrejon's medical condition falls within the definition of disability.

She says they refused to even accept her letter.

So now Torrejon remains at home, sickened not only by the news of her cancer but by the unconscionable cruelty of her bosses.

"It's not fair what they're doing to me," she says, shaking her head in disbelief. "What kind of heart do these people have?"

No heart at all.