I am a little bit obsessed with Facebook’s ‘On this day’ feature. I get excited when the clock ticks past midnight and I can see what memories I’ll be reminded of! Most of the time I am disappointed at just how uninteresting some of my posts were, but there are always the ones that make you laugh or that are accompanied by photo’s you forgot had been taken. Then there are the ones that knock the wind out of your sails – memories with friends you no longer see, pictures of people whose lives have been lost, and for me, memories BC/DC – before and during cancer. Continue reading “Facebook and the persistence of memory.”

 

2017 was a hell of a year. A year of starting again in so many ways. And a year of adventure. At this time last year my scar from my surgery was still open in 3 places (still with 5 months of healing ahead) and the crushing heat in a stifling summer was killing me, as were the incessant hot flushes of menopause. I was learning how to manoeuvre in my old world in the new and strangely empty body I had brought back from hospital. Continue reading “Hello 2018.”

Part and parcel of dealing with cancer is tests – blood tests, CT scans, MRIs. In the space of about a month last year I’d had two CT scans, a PET scan, two blood tests, an appointment with a gynaecological oncologist, a colonoscopy, gastroscopy and a laparoscopy. I felt like a radioactive pincushion. Continue reading “Scanxiety”

The loneliness of cancer.

It turns out May is a milestone month for me this year. It was on May 19 last year I first found out I had a ‘gynaecological malignancy, ovarian in nature’. (No matter how many memories chemo steals, that sentence is burnt into my brain.) Five days later, I finally graduated from uni with my Bachelor of Communications. And six months ago today I had a massive operation to remove a cancer that was close to killing me. So to say it’s been a big year would be an understatement. And even though I have my girl and my little man, it has undoubtedly been the loneliest year of my life. Continue reading “The loneliness of cancer.”

Fucking Chemo

 

Generally, I try not to swear when I write. I swear enough when I talk. But I really fucking hate chemo. It’s obvious, I know. No one likes chemo. Well I hope no one likes chemo. I have spent the two and a half months since coming home bouncing between ‘chemo is a necessary evil’ and ‘nope, I don’t wanna’. I’m lucky that I have a family who are willing to support me regardless of which option I take, now and in the future. Continue reading “Fucking Chemo”

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