I had cancer when I was 15. I had surgery and chemotherapy, and after 5 years I was declared all clear.
I thought that was the end of my cancer story. But what I didn’t realise is, once cancer is part of your life, it is always part of it.
At first I resented it. I didn’t like to refer to myself as a ‘cancer-survivor’. I resented cancer being part of what identified me. I remember once when my mother was researching our family tree. The further back she went, the less she would know of each ancestor, until eventually they would be described by a single sentence – this lady, she died of pneumonia; this guy, he was a farm labororer; this man, he was arrested for neglecting his wife; and so it went. And as I read through her research, I felt pretty glum, because I thought in…
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