Cancer brings with it a profound sense of uncertainty, a reality that can feel overwhelming at times. Each stage of this journey, from the jarring moment of diagnosis to the draining side effects of chemotherapy, presents its own unique challenges. Now, as I await my PET scan results just one day before my next round of chemotherapy, I find myself in a particularly daunting moment, grappling with the weight of what those results may bring.
By the time this paper goes to print, I’ll know the outcome, and I’ll have had a couple of days to process it. There’s really no in-between, either the news will be good, or I’ll be bracing myself for the next round of obstacles. Regardless of the results, treatment will continue; chemotherapy number seven will be on the horizon, potentially with adjustments if things haven’t gone the way we hope.
Each time I sit in that chair, my port accessed with a deep breath and a long needle, I feel the side effects take hold as the chemo enters my bloodstream yet I remind myself I’m not alone in this battle. Every three weeks, I’m surrounded by other brave patients in oncology, all of us sharing silent looks that speak volumes. We understand each other in a way others might not, knowing nods that acknowledge the exhaustion, the fear, and the determination we all carry. Though our paths differ, many of the hopes, fears, and challenges overlap. My own journey is unique in many ways, as is every cancer patient’s journey, but the struggles resonate across the room.
What differs for me, is that I’m fortunate to have this platform to share it. I write about my journey to highlight both the unique aspects of my experience and the common threads that bind us as cancer patients. Each path is distinct, yet there are universal truths that resonate within our stories.
Bridgeen Doherty, an ambassador for the Trudy Crowley Foundation who is under palliative care, has brought us all powerful advice: “Know your body, know your normal.” If something doesn’t feel right, keep asking until you get the answers you deserve. The difference time makes is immeasurable. If my own questions had been answered sooner, perhaps I wouldn’t be sitting here undergoing chemotherapy.
When it comes to "knowing your normal," sometimes it's the small, seemingly insignificant moments that can be the most telling. I think of stories like that of Ailsa Millewski, a dedicated nurse who spent years caring for others, but whose own health issues first became apparent in the most ordinary of ways, forgetting a simple recipe she’d cooked hundreds of times before. One evening, she found herself standing in her kitchen, unable to remember how to finish a chicken stir-fry. For her husband Gary, that moment was a clear sign that something wasn’t right. It took until the end of that year to work out that Ailsa had developed a tumour in her adrenal glands, but a biopsy and PET scan revealed it was already a stage 3 carcinoma and had spread to her spine.
Tragically, Ailsa passed away in the very same palliative care unit where she had once provided compassionate care for so many patients. Her legacy lives on through her family and friends, and the story of her journey is a powerful reminder of how even the smallest changes in our health can signify something more. You can read this deeply emotional story on page 9.
Ultimately, many of us have the same goal, to reach the day we can ring the ‘all clear’ bell, signalling the end of treatment and the start of hope for a brighter tomorrow.
That’s the sound I long to hear.
Amanda