Hi Everyone.
I was diagnosed with inoperable cervical cancer in May 23. My friend told me cancer was 60% dealing with other people and 40% helping yourself. Best advice I got! Hardest part is watching reactions to your news.
Waiting for the Plan is hard but treatment starts. 26 Radiotherapies, 3 chemotherapies, 3 Brachiotherapies, 1 ipicc line, 3 kidney stents, 3 kidney drains, 1 minor chemo leak, 1 Spinal leak, 1 Blood transfusion, 3 hospitals, lots of wards, endless numbers of staff and a Partridge In A Pear Tree!
Funny parts - chemo leak happened in Treatment Chair 13, didn't sit there again! Brachiotherapy, I just had to ask for a remote control after all when else would you get so many electrical leads attached to THERE. Radiotherapy, still have the suntan ladies, but not sure you want to see it! Prada, Tiffany's 2.0 and Gucci (kidney drains bags) were a source of amusement (not least when you catch one in a doorframe!) And a Spinal leak makes you infamous.
Don't get me wrong the journey was challenging, the tunnel was dark at times but while there are treatment options there is light even if only a pinprick at the end. Keep moving forward, each day is new. Find the funny where you can, positivity heals faster. But as much as it healed me, it healed my family more and that was nearly more important.
3 month scan shows no cancer and hopefully 2 kidney stents being removed soon. Long may it continue! Xxx
Mine was inoperable at stage 2b and many other ladies were the same and are doing well now following treatment. I only had surgery when my cancer recurred and it was then the only option to attempt a cure because of my situation. I’m still here 4.5 years later!
Sarah xx
It’s always best to concentrate on the positive! I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t done that, and I think I’ve had a really good outcome overall.
Sarah xx
Hi Natalie.
So glad you are feeling more positive today! It is the key to getting through any adversity, that and a strange sense of humour!
My cancer was inoperable because my tumour was larger than the guidelines would allow for operating. It also had attached itself across a few organs which was very unhelpful. But the key point I can't stress enough is when I got my diagnosis, the doctors while telling me my cancer was inoperable due to its size, told me there were other options available. To be truthful, I suggested a rusty spoon to scoop it out! 
And yes, I got some strange looks from the team as you can imagine. But for me, the inoperable didn't matter, I latched onto "other options". This meant there was a tunnel, not a closed door. Tunnel means hope. On the other side at the moment, it is amazing the strength, the ability to find the funny, the absolute resilience you have within you to get through. And it is in all of us. Xxx
I really agree with you Chuckles and we can find it. If we don’t have hope, we have nothing left, so even a small glimmer is enough to shine that light for us.
I remember coming out of a check up appointment which was actually fine, when a registrar asked if I wanted to find out what might be next if my cancer came back. I said yes, and she mentioned a total pelvic exenteration. I really wished I hadn’t asked!
I came out of there, and got into the car with tears coming silently down my face, saying no way am I ever doing that, absolutely no way, ever.
When my cancer reared its very ugly head again, I was practically begging for that surgery and I didn’t cry again. I focused every last bit of energy and strength within me to say please do it. I found something within me I didn’t even realise I had and concentrated on what that surgery could mean for me. And I did it. The will to survive is very strong.
Now, I have to say that I do need to find the humour in my situation, where 2 stomas can mean a world of shit, literally! But am I glad I found that strength? Hell, absolutely yes!
Sarah xx
You’ve just got yourself in a bit of a hole with your mind working overtime and it’s understandable-the mind is a very powerful thing. A diagnosis, whatever it may be, can actually be a relief as knowing what you are dealing with is much better than the unknown your head can conjure up.
Until someone tells you have cancer, you don’t-that was my way of looking at things at the start and so I didn’t make any assumptions about anything. We can help you through in this group, and that’s what we’re here for. Keep posting, keep trying to focus on getting through and know that everyone is behind you.
Sarah xx
Oh, humour was indeed thin on the ground sometimes! Sometimes, even now, it can be hard when I am in a bit of a pickle and requiring more hands than I possess when both bags choose to leak at once! But you have to get on with it, and focus on the task at hand. What else can I do? I get frustrated sometimes and let out a few choice words which can scare my cat at times, but things get done and I move on.
I was very fearful when I thought my cancer might be back, and hearing it was-well that was a real body blow, and much worse than my original diagnosis. But it wasn’t the end of the road, I wasn’t out of options, so my little flame of hope never went out completely.
Sarah xx
