I'm in an emotional place similar to the one I found myself in when my Dad died: there is this briefest moment of relief when you wake up and there is no emotional pain what so ever... Then those few seconds get destroyed because 'you remember' that life has now changed and the pain comes flooding in.
This is the background...
The last few weeks have been hell. Six weeks ago I was admitted into hospital with severe abdominal pain, they presumed gallstones and I felt like the biggest wimp in the world because it hurt so much. As it turns out it was an ovarian cyst (24 cm x 18 cm x 6 cm) so I wasn't *that* wimpy really. It had burst, I had sepsis and the operation saved my life. Along with the cyst they removed my (by now) long dead ovary. Before the operation I specifically told them that I do not agree to anything else being removed - I wanted to preserve my fertility as I do not already have chldren, the only caveat being 'unless I am about to die'. And that was the first time that I was faced with losing my fertility through circumstances totally beyond my control. My treatment was complicated because I'm allergic to a good few medications, but despite the anaphylaxis I made it through and came out of hospital the day before my 35th birthday (still with one ovary left.)
Two weeks after the operation they told me the biopsies they took were malignant and I had ovarian cancer. At the time they staged it at 3. My thoughts were preoccupied with 'I have to live and I have to fight no matter how scared I am.' Fertility was no even on the list of things to worry about at this point. I'm pretty glad for the time it took to get back to me about the biopsies because I needed that break just to process having gone though a 'life or death' operation, surviving sepsis and yet another anaphylactic reaction.
I then (last week) got an appointment at a specialist hospital near to where I live and since then I have been? Grieving is the only apt way to describe it really. At first I was in shock as they staged the cancer as a 1c (because the cancer cells were found on my omentum and not embedded inside of it) - at the time the newest CT scan wasn't ready so I have to wait until tomorrow for those results... But with the information they had available, they were happy to tell me that survival rates for this type of cancer at this stage and at my age range are extremely good. I was elated - not stage three! Not very probable death! Then, I had an ultrasound and everything else looks pretty much healthy - even better! Life and a chance of pregnancy in the future!
Treatments...
No. Well, maybe. It depends on what option I choose. This cancer is slow growing, so I could already have cancer in the other ovary (possible because the other cyst burst) it can look as healthy as it wants but on a macroscopic level it may already be defunked.
The standard treatment for this is removal of my womb, cervix, tubes and ovaries as well as the omentum - an operation has been booked for Dec 3rd and they have said it isn't set in stone, if I want it done then I can or it can be moved to give me more time.
Freezing eggs is a possibility if I go privately, but as it is a hormonal cancer, I will probably be giving my consent to a procedure that increases the chances of cancer (due to the hormonal injections/treatment needed to harvest eggs.) And not many doctors will do this because of the risk factors involved in my case. This is possibly the hardest thing for me as on the ultrasound they confirmed that I have a healthy number of Antral follicles - this is a good measurement of 'ovarian reserves' and fertility...
Then there is ovarian tissue freezing, but this is so new (only 20 babies have been born world wide so far using this method)... It cuts out (poor choice of words but true) the hormonal risks involved in egg harvesting as the treatment happens outside of the person... But there is a risk of reintroducing cancerous tissue to me when they place the tissue back inside of me.
I could just have my ovary and omentum removed which would give me the chance to go for IVF in the future.
Or I could go for chemotherapy - which this type of cancer doesn't respond well to as it isn't aggressive (apparently aggressive cancers respond well to chemo).
Emotional fallout...
So yeah the chances of me ever having my own biological children in this world are pretty much nil unless I risk my life either through egg harvesting or the egg tissue freezing. No question has ever hurt as much as this. They were so right when they said that it would be easier if it were as it was with the first operation - we take this out or you die.
I'm totally lost with so many deeply conflicting feelings. I'm totally shocked at the amount of grief I'm already feeling at the loss of people that were never even here. And at the same time I'm glad for the people that already love me because they don't need to grieve for me, especially my own Mum who is 71. I'm an only child, she's already lost her husband and we are all that each other has in this country (our family originates from abroad) - I'm so grateful for the chance not to have died in that operation and for the new prognosis. But at the exact same time I feel like I have lost something that is just as special, so unbelievably special in my heart, by losing the chance to have children. I thought I was fine, my Mum had me when she was 36, there was still time - but there is no time. Not now.
I have no idea what direction to go in. I've asked for counselling and the Macmillan nurses are helping to sort that out. In the meantime I'm just trying to stay on top of my depression and trying to handle the emotional pain in healthy ways. It is all I can do for now.
I think I've written this to try and help myself even start to face up to this but also because wherever I look on the internet I just seem to find cases of women who do not even wants kids or women who have tried IVF and it failed... And when I try and search for cancer and fertility it usually comes back with information to do with treatments, rather than personal stories. As this is pretty isolating maybe one day, someone else in my position just won't feel so alone when dealing with possibly the most cruelest question ever asked of them.
