'Cancer never even crossed my mind'

When I noticed a tiny lump in my abdomen, a pre-scan diagnosis of fibroids* made it easy to dismiss

I have had a cancer scare before when, perhaps like a lot of women, I discovered a lump in one of my breasts. As a woman, my biggest fear was that this lump could mean I had what that cute little pink ribbon represents: the C word. Of course there are other cancers (many, as it turns out), but breast cancer is one of the 4 most common types in the UK and the one I knew most of. My grandmother and colleague both had breast cancer and thank God both survived. For my part, the lump was examined and found to be nothing to worry about. Simply some fatty tissue in my breast. I exhaled and continued living my mainly joyful, life to the full existence.

I never get sick. I’m never ill. The only time I really suffer is when I eat too much chocolate which I’m unfortunately slightly allergic to, or have more than my fair share of dairy, which puts me into a bit of a flu-like state. When I was working a ski season, my favourite chef was responsible for making tiramisu which I absolutely adore. One day she made extra for me and packaged it with a note saying, ‘Enjoy! And don’t eat it all at once!’. I took that note as advice I was free to ignore and polished it off in one-and-a-half sittings. And that was the only time I was ever sick in the five or so months I was there. I have always been rather dismissive about my self-inflicted sickness and because I generally maintain a healthy lifestyle, it has never caused me any undue stress.

Health. Taken for granted by the young and fortunate. This lump turned out to be an aggressively growing germ cell tumour in my uterus. Only a couple of months after it first appeared, my abdomen was so extended I looked about 6 months pregnant. The “mass”, as my oncology team kept calling it, was pushing against surrounding organs causing me to have symptoms that were scarily similar to pregnancy. My ankles were swollen, I constantly needed a wee and I was almost permanently exhausted. For full transparency I will admit that I occasionally panicked that I actually was pregnant. I racked my brains for the last time I had s_x; unprotected s_x obviously but the numbers didn’t add up. Surely you can’t be pregnant for more than a year?! It’s laughable now but at the time, stone cold facts (including several negative pregnancy tests) failed to stop me visualising calling my ex or how I would raise a child on my own. 

Thankfully, it was caught early and I had an operation to remove the tumour, along with my left ovary and fallopian tube which it had completely overtaken. Apparently the “mass” was 15cm long and I was left with a long wound starting just below my breasts and finishing in the middle of my pubic bone. I had to have five blood transfusions (three pre-op, to increase iron levels to prepare me for surgery and two post-op to replace the two pints of blood I lost during the surgery). My body felt like it had been through a war but I was out of hospital in just three days - like Jesus! (That was a joke please, my super-Christian friends, do not be offended.) 

I was repeatedly told that my general levels of health played a big part in my recovery and, having had to return to London for treatment, I was pleased to have it over with so that I could go back to starting my new life in Cheltenham.

So imagine my surprise when, exactly one week ago, my consultant called to tell me that my last blood result showed the cancer cell count in my blood had started rising dangerously; showing there was still cancer in my body. I could almost feel myself droop under the weight of this news. Having celebrated what some had described as a phoenix style recovery to a rather major operation, I now appeared to be back at square one.

In the days since that disparaging news, I have given notice to work since my doctors have written to say I will need three months off, and moved back down to London. Here we go again. Sometimes I am scared. Sometimes I feel anxious. Will I lose my other ovary? Will I lose my hair? Will I lose my life? 

About two weeks ago I had my first bikini wax in more than 6 months. I expected it to be painful but what I had forgotten is that when the hot wax is first applied and then rudely ripped from the skin, there is a searing pain, but when the wax is reapplied to that same area to get rid of the hairs that are left, there is hardly any pain at all. So in my most lucid moments, I remind myself that the big tumour has gone. And I am well able to weather the removal of any remnants.

Fall down seven times, stand up eight. 

Also known as Proverbs 24:16 in the Bible which reads: ‘The godly may trip seven times, but they will get up again’.

Doll x

*Fibroids are non-cancerous growths that develop in or around the womb (uterus)