'I'm calling it quits on chemotherapy'

My body has been through far too much trauma and you know what? I’m over it

Cancer sucks. But from my perspective, chemo sucks more. The thing is, when I was first told I needed to have chemotherapy, I didn’t have any worrying symptoms. As far as I was concerned, the operation to remove a cancerous tumour was behind me and I was finally getting back to my new home in the Cotswolds to perfect the persona deep within me that longs to be stomping around a house made from Bath Stone dressed in Isabel Marant shorts and Dubarry. I wasn’t in any pain and had spent the previous week crisscrossing the UK to visit friends in the West Country and the Lakes. My new neighbour - who had yelled at me for (inadvertently) taking his parking space when I first moved in - had become my friend and had just dropped off a bottle of Ayala to celebrate my return. So the call from my oncologist, telling me my blood results showed the aggressive cancer was back, stopped me in my tracks. Literally, as I had just left the house with my laptop to go work at my local coffee shop. At first I didn’t - couldn’t - say anything. My lovely doctor asked me repeatedly if I was okay but I couldn’t speak. There was a long silence before she started to sound a bit panicked: ‘Are you okay? Is anyone with you??’ 

And then I wept.

I read an article in the Guardian last week in which a life coach shared the advice she gives to her clients. She tells them to envisage that they are elderly, at the end of their life and at a party to celebrate their achievements and the difference they’ve made. She asks them, ‘As you go into the party, people are thanking you. What are they thanking you for?’. Apparently that tunes people into what makes life meaningful, not just “happy”. When you’re seriously ill, the last thing you really want to do is imagine yourself close to death but I couldn’t help but wonder* what I would be thanked for. It might sound a bit drippy but the first thing that came to mind wasn’t an achievement, it was a character trait. People often tell me they’re grateful for my honesty. Posting pictures without makeup or filters became a big thing a few years back (#Authenticity) but even though I’m happy to do all that stuff, it takes much more for me to be honest when it has me going against the grain. And the reason for that big lead up is because I have struggled with telling people the decision I made over a month ago: I’ve decided not to have any more chemo. 

In my experience, it’s easy to be honest about things people will back you on. Showing yourself barefaced on social media is guaranteed to get support and back-clapping. Telling people you’re turning down the only officially recognised treatment for a serious disease...not so much. When I told my registrar after my second horrific cycle that I would not be coming back for the third and final dose, she asked me to hold on and within minutes I was being (nicely) confronted by a room full of senior oncology staff. They told me that they were so close to curing this disease. They told me that although this was the most brutal chemo treatment they offer, I was doing so well. They wanted to know what was making it so bad that I didn’t want to continue. I told them it was the hearing loss that the audiologist had said was irreversible. It was being hooked up to three hardcore drugs for 72 hours straight. It was the mouth ulcers, the skin peeling, the skin pigmentation, the nausea, the headaches, the hair loss, the hot flushes and the absolute exhaustion. I told them that chemotherapy had robbed me of life. They argued that cancer might rob me of mine but I told them outright that I am not afraid of dying. Which I think worried them  a bit, thinking I have suicidal tendencies, but I don’t. I am not afraid. 

But that’s not why I’m stopping. My grandfather died of cancer before I was born, my aunt died of cancer when I was in my teens and my uncle died of cancer earlier this year. At least once a week I hear about a friend, or friend of a friend, or relative or someone once removed, who has either been diagnosed with cancer or has died of it. Some of these people have had chemotherapy and it didn’t cure them. Others had chemotherapy and they are still alive today. I’m making a personal decision to stop because chemotherapy is poisonous and I do not want to be attacked by drugs in the hope that they might kill the bad cells and leave the good cells alone. This isn’t a decision I’ve taken lightly, but it is my decision and that’s something I’m learning to value. 

Sometimes I think about the way Jesus healed people in the Bible and there doesn’t appear to be an algorithm involved. In Matthew 8 Jesus healed a man with leprosy by reaching out to touch him and later in that chapter He heals someone else simply by saying they’re healed, without even laying eyes on them. I believe that ultimately, God will heal me. And the good news for me, well for all of us really, is that God can heal however He likes.

So along with a lot of prayer, I am focusing on my diet, regular exercise and am embarking on some other, less invasive treatments. Also, importantly; I’m taking care of my emotional health and doing all I can to keep stress levels down since stress is a huge factor in any kind of ill health. Thankfully I'm otherwise very healthy and don’t find a lot of my new “restrictions” a chore. I’m back to doing daily yoga and eschewing coffee, champagne and croissants for a plant-based GF, DF, sugar free, low salt diet. I’ve spent almost three decades eating and doing whatever I want so if it takes a few life changes to live a full and beautiful existence, I’m here for it.

Doll x

PS. Okay maybe I am a little afraid of dying, but I know where I’m going so that’s some consolation for when I do... : ) “My fear doesn’t stand a chance when I stand in your love”

PPS. Sorrrrrry about last week! My immune system shut down - thanks chemotherapy - and I caught flu but I hope I won’t have to leave you guys hanging without notice again!

*hands up all the SATC fans!