After diagnosis I found myself googling everything to do with cervical cancer. I knew I was scaring myself by doing it but couldn't stop myself. From stages to survival rates I looked at it all; especially survival rates!!
As if I wasn't scaring myself enough I then had to think about telling everyone. How was I supposed to tell those that I loved that I had cancer..... cancer......cancer! But that is what I did and very quickly I realised that I was going to have to be the strong one and reassure others that I was going to be ok. Most people I told cried, others got awkward and some became over enthusiastic and said "we'll get through this". Oh "we" will, will "we"?
My mum's way of dealing with it was to only tell those close to her, my dad on the other hand dealt with it by telling anyone that crossed his path. Over the next few weeks I got head tilts and pity nods from family friends, acquaintances and people I have never met before in my life (blame my dad for that one). Although I found it hard to be centre of attention and have people pity me, I realise that everyone was just trying to be supportive and genuinely cared for me and wished me well.
Luckily I had kept my work up to date with progress and had spoken with them before I was diagnosed to let them know I had a hospital appointment. So my news, while still a shock, didn't come out of nowhere. I decided to tell my colleagues as a group (there were only 10 of us). I found this very difficult as I am the youngest member of staff and most are old enough to be my mum. I was completely taken aback by their positivity and genuine compassion for my circumstance. I am lucky to say they have stuck by me throughout.
With having to tell everyone and sort my work out I got side tracked from the medical side of things for a short while. This did not last long. I had an appointment with my oncologist at Scotland’s main cancer hospital; The Beatson. I took my parents with me and it was there he told me I would need to have chemotherapy and from there hopefully an operation to remove the tumour. If it did not shrink enough however I would need radiotherapy.
During this appointment he discussed many things with me. I was told I would have three chemotherapy sessions; once every three weeks, and they would be around 8-10 hours each. Furthermore I would feel quite sick from it and I would lose my hair. MY HAIR!!! I couldn't believe it. He told me that was the least of my worries, but I felt devastated by this. I had always had long hair that I liked to curl for nights out and now I was being told I was going to be bald. However, that news was quickly put into proportion when he told me I would no longer be able to have children as I would either have a hysterectomy (if the tumour shrunk enough) or radiotherapy would kill my ovaries and womb. I was utterly stunned and quite upset by this. Being single and 25 years old I wasn't planning on having kids anytime soon, but one day I always saw myself as a mum. I was going to have to get used to the idea that this was probably never going to happen.
