Cancer diagnosis - how to tell the kids

In April 2016 I met ‘R’, properly dated throughout the summer - no take-aways or nights in...you know…"out out”. Moved in together in November and had the best Christmas ever! Some were worried I’d acted too quickly, but I knew it was the right thing to do at the right time. I now know that it was the best decision I have EVER made.

Early January 2017 I couldn’t ignore the amount of blood I was losing when going to the toilet. Arranged a GP appointment but chickened out from saying anything.

February - plucked up the courage to reschedule an appointment. Mentioned my mum has ulcerative colitis, which put me on top of the list for a colonoscopy.

At the clinic a week later watching the screen and listening to the consultant saying he was going to tattoo me from the inside, as he’d found a 4cm tumour. Not something I was expecting or had prepared myself for.

I was well, ate healthily, went to the gym, didn’t smoke, avoided processed foods, young - aged 43! My mum does all the naughty things - I’m the sensible one.

A few days later I received the news that changed everything. The tumour was cancerous, it had spread to my liver and my lungs. I was introduced to the end-of-life counsellor through Macmillan. Telling the five children we have between us #blendedfamily was never an issue. We told them in an appropriate way, with language they would understand. We didn’t want them to hear second-hand what was going on. In my mind, there was no way this was going to end the life that was, at last, going in the right direction.

This is when I first realised that I was starting to program my mind #neuro #linguistic #programming. I couldn't change what was happening to me, but I could change how I dealt with it, which inevitably assisted my quick recovery and enabled everyone else around me to cope.

I was #reframing situations - no more driving to work, I could work from home! I found a homeopath to support my chemotherapy treatment and researched slight changes to my diet. I immediately removed the #limitingbelief that my days were over.

The next two weeks were filled with more tests, scans that were impossibly surreal to take in, but the good news came. The nodules in my lungs were too small to categorise and the activity in my liver wasn’t cancerous. This meant I could have an operation to remove the tumour. Operation went well, lymph nodes were removed and I was up on my feet the very next day, bruised but grateful (see pics).

The next blow came when I received the news that the cancer was at stage 3 and had spread to the lymph nodes. That meant chemo. Instant thoughts - kids seeing me ill, will it come back if I don’t have chemo? and hair loss.

I decided with the help of my homeopath to do both, build my immunity naturally whilst having chemo. No words describe the feeling of going onto the chemo ward, surrounded by people of all ages, hooked up with drugs that make you feel like you’ve been hit by a juggernaut. Even the escaped tears hurt your tear-ducts.

I decided to carry on working, the distraction being good to help get back into my own reality.

Four chemo sessions later over four months and I was asked if I wanted to finish chemo early? Erm, yes please. I was fine, still shell-shocked, but my body recovered well, my scars had healed.

What I hadn’t expected was the overwhelming sense of sadness when the treatment was over. I returned to end-of-life counselling to talk through these emotions, giving myself time to digest the past 6 months, to accept my overwhelming need to never take anything for granted again. Therapy really helped, but whenever it was time for a routine blood test, scan or visit to the hospital, I couldn’t stop the tears. Which was odd because I actually felt relaxed about the procedures and potential outcomes.

By this time I had started the NLP Practitioner course and decided to have a session with my tutor. I wanted to blast away the anxiety and fear, so after 30 minutes, we worked on my timeline and a few other techniques. From that day onwards I have not cried about tests, scans and hospital letters - it is incredible. My physical responses now match my thought patterns in a way that is helpful and allows me to feel light and confident.

March 2019 - I have just received the call from the hospital to say that the lung nodules have not changed, my liver condition is not a concern and my CEA blood test was at a number 1.....the same as it has been since chemo. This is nothing but good news. I'm making time for me now.