The first thing my oncologist said to me was “have you not been feeling terrible?” And I thought, well no, I just thought that’s what it felt like being a first time mum?
Turns out maybe it wasn’t just the sleep deprivation, the postpartum mental and physical mountains I’d been scaling, or the stress of returning to work with two under two.
Clearly it was all of those things - and unfortunately, Stage 4 bowel cancer.
I was diagnosed 26 April 2023 - four days before my 32nd birthday, out of the blue, and told I had 6-12 months to live.
Did I have symptoms? Not really. I thought I had gastritis for a few weeks right before checking myself into emergency after a night of excruciating stomach pain... It was a bowel obstruction, and when they showed me the CT scan my whole midsection was lit up like the Fourth of July. The primary tumour was the culprit, and it had spread from my spleen to my liver and was scattered all over my peritoneum. I’ll never forget the emergency doctor’s face when she had to tell me, I think about her often and what a horrible day that job must have been for her.
The first night I was in hospital I remember googling how people actually die from cancer. It’s in my family, but I never asked details or thought I’d ever have to consider that as my reality - and certainly not at this peak stage of my life.
I am 32 years young - a mum, a wife, a daughter, sister, and partner of a law firm. I have the most unbelievable family and support network of friends and loved ones, who lift me up and carry me through every single day of this new reality. I have so much to live for, and reason to be here. I just knew this wasn’t how my story was meant to end.
My sister kissed me goodbye that night and said “I wish I could trade places with you”, and my immediate response was “I don’t”. I often think if it was someone else close to me, I’d have been an absolute mess throughout this. Instead, my mind has snapped into fight mode - I am too young for this, I have not lived my full life, and done everything I need to yet. I’ll do everything and anything to make sure I am here for as long as I can be, and I know I will be because of this mindset.
I did six months of chemotherapy immediately following. I had the most wonderful, caring experience at the Cancer Centre and I can’t speak higher of the nurses and doctors looking after me there - I literally owe them my life.
Fast forward to right before Christmas - we got the news that 95% of the cancer was gone! It felt like a miracle.
I’ve had an amazing, wholesome few months off treatment now, recovering and getting back to “normal life”. It’s shocking how I felt that was a real measure of success post-treatment. I craved the normalcy, our routine, resuming my duties at home and at work, and being able to be there for others like they were there for me. I have medical menopause, severe neuropathy and am learning to endure chronic pain and fatigue - but wow, am I still grateful.
The sad reality of Stage 4 means that my cancer will never be curable - it’s not a matter of “if” it comes back, simply “when”.
So, I am about to start another round of chemotherapy, this time for three months. But I’m not fazed by that. I’ll do whatever it takes to see my babies grow up and live this life to the fullest for as long as I possibly can. I know every day is a gift so many of us aren’t afforded. I am grateful to have the foresight and profound understanding that all things are temporary - to have been given the time to prepare for the worst so I can literally live everyday my best.
Can you actually believe that 99% of bowel cancer cases are completely curable when caught early? Just because I missed the boat, doesn’t mean you have to.
My one piece of advice for others: For any mama reading this who has had a symptom or two but is also swimming upstream in postpartum life - I see you. Ask your GP for a colonoscopy referral. Even if they find nothing, you’ll have peace of mind for your sweet family, and a well-deserved nap 😉 Sending love x