Happy 3rd cancerversary to me.

Happy cancerversary to me!

It’s three years exactly since I had my official diagnosis. I had the tests the previous week, and had been told that they could see it was cancer. But 15 April was the official, biopsy-confirmed diagnosis of stage 3 breast cancer, with spread to the lymph nodes.

Maybe I shouldn’t mark this day: after all, it wasn’t a happy occasion. Perhaps my last chemo, in August, would be more appropriate. Or my surgery date, of 13 October, when the cancer was properly cut out. Or my last day of radiotherapy, in early February. That’s the thing with cancer: it gives you many important milestones. But, I’ll stick with this date I think. After all, it is a birthday of sorts. A day when I waved goodbye to the normal healthy young woman that I was, and started my new life as a cancer patient, then survivor.

So how do I feel this year? Last year, on my 2nd cancerversary, I was elated. I had recently stopped my life-destroying (how ironic, as they are actually intended to stretch out my lifespan just a little longer, but to the unacceptable cost of all joy or peace for me and my family) drugs, and was happy feeling a lot like the old Alex.

This year, I honestly don’t know how I feel. How am I meant to feel? Life as a cancer survivor is one without a map.

Sometimes I am hugely relieved just to be alive and every extra day is a blessing. Other times it feels like I cheated death, and it’s just waiting for me in the wings; until I am really comfortable. Then I forget all about cancer and feel like a normal healthy person. Occasionally I feel boring and tired. Sometimes I feel I have been given a second chance: an eye-opening brush with my own mortality that seems like more a blessing than a curse. Then I think of how much my kids have grown up in the last three years: will I still be around for the next three? I am reminded of how God has blessed me with such a wonderful life, and how I shouldn’t waste it. Then I worry that I won’t be around to see my children finish school, get a job, get married, have their own children. Sometimes I believe that I will live to 90, just to prove a point. Other times I am grateful that I can help people newly diagnosed. Then I will feel that I’m not doing enough for those in the cancer community. And I also think about how unfair life is: not for me, but for the people without a voice; like the innocents being bombed in Syria, and the people struggling to survive in Burundi. And I think that I should shut up about cancer, after all, I am well and what’s the point of moaning? Then I can’t be bothered to think, and just want to watch telly, draw a doodle or read a book. So yeah, that’s a typical day!

I haven’t celebrated this day as such, but my daughter and I did bake cupcakes, which are surprisingly good.  And what is the point of surviving cancer if you can’t enjoy a home-made cupcake now and then?

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Paddington Bear has an adventure in London.

Hello, I am Paddington Bear. Today, some humans called Mike and Alex bought me from a shop in London, and took me on an adventure. I have always lived up on a shelf in the shop, so had never seen London properly before. Just a lot of tourists’ heads.

We went on the tube, which is an underground train network! Even though we were underground, I didn’t see any earthworms or mud. I sat on Mike’s shoulder for a good view.

We went on a boat ride on the Thames. It was so cool: we saw lots of things, like this big wheel. I think that people who have been very naughty are made to go on it, as punishment.

My owners took me up a ridiculously tall building, called the Shard. I was too scared to get out of Alex’s backpack. Bears are Not made to be this high up! Afterwards, I needed a cuddle and some marmalade sandwiches to recover.

I got tired from all the adventuring and needed a sit-down, and look what we found! A bench with my name on it. What are the chances?

There is a tube station named after me! How cool is that? 

Then we went to a very noisy and busy train station. I like London, but there are just too many people. I found this extremely old bear, who told me all about Peru, which is where us Paddingtons all came from many years ago. He is very popular: I saw lots of people getting their photo with him.

 

We found an awesome shop, full of bears just like me! I made lots of friends. They are all hoping for families to take them home. Living in a shop can be quite boring. Except for the parties after closing-time, of course.

Mike, Alex and I got on a train, heading for Swindon, which is where cool people live, so I hear. I read a book.

Alex let me sit on her shoulder for a while. Trains are interesting. There was a man on his phone though, talking about business for the whole journey. I felt very sleepy and had a quick nap. When I woke up, we were in Swindon.

Mike and Alex took me to their home. I have a new owner called Bethany, who loves me very much. She makes me marmalade sandwiches every day. ☺

Work after cancer

One of the side-effects of cancer that you aren’t really aware of until it happens to you, is the financial cost.

I stopped work the day after my cancer diagnosis, and had 9 months off. Thankfully I have a very supportive workplace so didn’t suffer with a dramatic loss of income while going through active treatment. I am in education, and it was considered too high risk (to me) to be in work at this time.

I did return to work shortly before starting radiotherapy, and was able to work every morning before travelling the hour-long journey to have radiotherapy. I was determined to do this, as was desperate to return to ‘normal’ life. But it was incredibly tiring! I had no energy for housework, socialising or anything much really, for those five weeks. It was very difficult. But it did mean that I was earning again, which I both needed and wanted to do.

I suggest that if you or a close family member are diagnosed, that you look into what benefits you qualify for. Macmillan can help with this  if you’re not sure where to start.

Macmillan benefits info.

Cancer takes a toll on your finances. You may not need benefits, but it is worth looking into.

Also, if you have critical illness on your life insurance, speak to your insurer as soon as you can.

As for going back to work, there is no date that you ‘should’ go back. Every cancer, person and family is different, so don’t let anyone tell you that you need to go back, if you don’t feel ready. However, if you can go back part-time, I would recommend it. I felt so much better (mentally) for returning to work. I felt useful again, and was completely bored with with being at home.

You may not be able to go back to work as quickly as you would like, though. Often there are complications from treatments, not least of all fatigue. Fatigue is not just feeling a bit tired. It’s something that many cancer survivors have to put up with for years; long after friends are expecting you to be back to perfect health again. My advice is to be kind to yourself. Cancer is not like flu, you don’t suddenly spring back.

Of course, you may not be able to afford to be off work for long. Make sure that you know all of your rights in the workplace. And get support from friends and family: could someone make you hot meals for your first week back at work, or help with your laundry or grocery shopping? Don’t be afraid or too proud to ask for help. Often people do want to help, but they aren’t sure how to.

You may not feel like going back to the same job. Many survivors don’t feel like the same person after cancer. You may suffer from anxiety or PTSD, and may not be able to go back to a high-stress or long-hours job. If so, give yourself some time to think about what you really want, amd look into different options. Talk to loved ones to see what they think.

When you do return to work, make sure that you keep your manager in the loop, so that they can support you. They can’t help if they don’t know that you are struggling. All people who have been diagnosed with cancer are protected by the law, and employers are not allowed to discriminate against you. You are entitled to reasonable adjustments, and to apply for flexible hours. Could you work from home one day a week?

Macmillan discrimination info

Going back to work can be surprisingly difficult, but it is one way to try to reclaim your life; to forge a ‘new normal’. Just make sure that you only do it when you are ready.  Speak to your employer so that they can support you. And don’t expect everything to be exactly the same as before. Take your time with any changes, and remember to be kind to yourself. ☺

 

 

Naming the Fear & Claiming the Truth

Faith, Fertility and Me

Living with infertility is like being a passenger on a plane experiencing constant turbulence, with no idea how long the flight is, where you’re going or when you’re going to land. There’s nothing you can do except put your seatbelt on and ride it out. It’s a scary place to be.

Someone recently asked me how I manage to find peace while dealing with such turbulence. I often tell people my Christian faith helps me through difficult times, but I’m aware this can come across as a bit wishy-washy. What does that actually mean? This has led me to reflect on what ‘having faith’ looks like in my everyday life.

For me, faith is active; it’s a doing word, not just some far-flung concept. It’s an enabler. It creates a safe environment in which I can sing when I’m winning and cry when I’m losing. It is the solid rock…

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Mr Bumblebee

Look at Mr Bumblebee,

He’s such a handsome fellow.

So proud and smart and stripy:

Ventablack and fire yellow.

A distinctly busy chap,

Always working, never stops.

He has an internal map,

Which means he never gets lost.

See him flying everywhere,

Doing an important job.

Never resting on a chair,

No-one could call him a slob.

With the arrival of spring,

He works overtime all day.

Tirelessly on the wing,

No time to enjoy his pay.

Dear Mr Bumblebee,

You have earned a little rest.

Sit with me and drink honey,

Taste the fruits of your success.

Intro: Why I’m Blogging

A post by my friend Becca.

Faith, Fertility and Me

It’s 2018 and my new year’s resolution is to write a blog. Why? Well, I think I have a story to tell and I’m narcissistic enough to believe people may want to read it, but not committed enough to write a book (flippin’ millennials). So blogging it is.

Storytelling is the essential human activity. The harder the situation, the more essential it is.

Tim O’Brien

This blog is my well-meaning attempt to write about faith, fertility and me, in that order of importance.

As a young married woman with a decent income, a mortgage, two cats and no children, I sometimes get asked: ‘Have you thought about having kids?’ This question is getting more frequent the older I get. It seems people I barely know feel morally obliged to remind me that my ‘body-clock is ticking’ and ‘it’s all downhill at 30’.

The truth is my husband and I have…

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Prayer for 2018

Real as the Streets

Recently, I’ve started reciting and praying portions of the Bible. I believe the universe God created responds well to His Word- which holds power. For 2018, I pray Ephesians 3:14 – 19 for all those in Christ’s family:

I kneel before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have the power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

In Jesus’ holy name I…

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