Tag: breast cancer

Happy Days

Watching Wimbledon this week and anticipating the Olympics, I was struck by what a lucky little so-and-so I have been. I was trying to imagine what my “bucket” list might have looked like in my late teens/ early twenties and I reckon it would have looked a bit like this

  • A trip to Disney World
  • Watch tennis at Wimbledon
  • Meet my soul mate
  • See the Northern Lights
  • Dance at the Tower Ballroom
  • Have a successful career
  • Go to the Olympics
  • See New England in the fall

I don’t think, at that age, the one thing left on my bucket list – travel throughout Ireland (particularly Galway, Cavan and Tipperary) would have made the list; I probably didn’t understand my cultural and ancestral ties at that age.

Fair to say I have smashed the rest of it, the Northern Lights were dropped in my lap, a gift from nature that wasn’t lost on me. I have travelled North America extensively and enjoyed every second, Yosemite (three times), Disney World and Orlando (seven times) and the Canadian rockies (twice); would be my favourites, but I also loved Zion, New York, Boston, Washington DC, San Francisco, Washington, Vancouver and Shenandoah. I wish I had been brave enough to explore South America and the Indian Continent – I feel the colour and vibrancy of those places would have awakened my senses and lust for adventure in ways that could have changed my life; but my desire for comfort and safety has always been too strong. Reading has been my travel placebo. I’ve been to many a cup final at Wembley, have spectated at Wimbledon several times, was one of the many who experienced Super Saturday first hand, I danced at the Tower Ballroom with my soul mate and I think my career was reasonable.

I have had an incredible life, probably not by anyone else’s standards but, in my eyes, I have achieved so much. My life has been full of love – given and received. I know that I have saved lives through my compassion and understanding – what a gift that is. And I have influenced other lives of course, mostly positively, and certainly my intent has always been one of kindness. I have worked hard and had much enjoyment. There have been challenges, grief – as it is for most people my age – has been my companion many times in the last twenty years. My health has been, for the most part, excellent and I am full of admiration for my body’s ability to do all it does. My most recent challenge came on the 4th March this year when I heard, for the second time, those fateful words “sorry, it’s cancer”. I was alone, I was shocked, I was afraid. My overwhelming thought was I am not ready to die. The system kicked into action quickly and efficiently – staging CT, bloods, scans, further histology and I was to come back on 21st March for a fuller diagnosis and to agree a plan.

On that day I wrote in my journal “scared, hopeful, numb”. That about covers it!

The results were as good as they could be in the circumstances, and a plan was put in place for surgery the following Wednesday, yet again the system ramped up and I was pre-op’d and ready. On the Saturday before my operation, I decided to do the 100 Happy Days challenge. I am so glad I did. Firstly, to notice just how quickly 100 days passes; and perhaps more importantly to gain some evidence about what exactly makes me happy. The first thing I need to point out is that there are more happy things than there are days – because it wasn’t `the happiest thing’ but all that had made me happy that day. When I looked back this week to analyse the results, I was pleased to see that most of the things that make me happy represent the cornerstones of good mental health.

Thirty-eight times in the 100 days I noted some aspect of “noticing nature”, from the Northern Lights to a pretty flower, and there is such resonance here with my day to day. I am surprised it wasn’t 900/100 as that’s what my life feels like.

My beautiful pup Zahra, with all her challenges, was the next highest scoring; followed closely by friends and family. Love, as I have already said, and I am lucky to have the best people (and pup) in my corner. I appreciate every one of my relationships.

Next came food and more specifically cake, and anyone who knows me knows this to be true! I could do with cutting down a bit, but it’s never lost on me that nourishing myself is a great privilege. Enjoying tastes and textures; and using food to express my love for others is, and always will be, a huge and healthy part of my life.

The next highest scoring happy factor was family history. I have been researching my family history for more than three decades and I love so much about this. I love the actual research, playing detective, analysing facts, seeing patterns – holding everything loosely, and then homing in and proving a piece of evidence. It has taught me so much about life and how to analyse information, also about being non-judgmental and keeping my heart and mind open. Then there are the stories, often not my own blood line but some delightful rabbit holes that I have tumbled down along the way – like the story of Catherine Ratcliffe-Duncan, a pit brow lass from Billinge; and Mary Ellen Foster, who left rural Rainford to enhance her nurse training and ended up being one of the first registered physiotherapists. But it’s the people I have met along the way who are the greatest treasure, not just the many cousins I have connected with but the genealogists who are so kind and generous with their time and expertise.

The next part of my analysis shows several things with equal weighting: art, reading, naps, self-care and self-improvement. Wonderful! House work and home improvements snuck onto the list – I don’t think we should live for “things” or keeping those things clean and tidy; but nor do I need to justify myself, I am working on being happy with “being” and I don’t see these features as a failure – just clarity that I have work to do and in the meantime I appreciate my surroundings and beautiful things as a form of art.

Finally celebrating the milestones of my cancer treatment was a small feature, ringing that `end of treatment’ bell is quite something. Who knows what the future holds; but I know that I will face it with the right attitude, excellent support and the experience of a life well lived.

If you want to read more about Zahra, Catherine or Mary Ellen see my previous blog posts on this site.   

It’s Life not a Fairy-tale

21 years ago I was admitted to hospital for a mastectomy. I was 38 years old. I had breast cancer. Over the years I have celebrated the day of my surgery, the start of my remission, as a second birthday. I have maintained a positive focus. But in recent years I find people who didn’t know me, don’t understand and don’t “get” why this is important. So, I decided this year I would travel back to that very frightened woman who entered that hospital ward. I was absolutely terrified, devastated. I remember feeling sick to my stomach every day from my diagnosis to the day of my surgery – a short ten days, imagine the pressure now for those given a speedy diagnosis but delay to treatment. That day I barely functioned, I remember the nurse asking if I had any worries or anxieties – I looked at her incredulously and said “of course”. I had no concept of how breast cancer would kill someone, I just thought I was going to die. As soon as the lights went out, I cried into my pillow, all night.

I never thought “why me”, partly because my mum (wonderful human being) had said “if you say `why me’ you’re saying it should be someone else” and because of a young lad (around 14 years old) who had been at the same assessment clinic. At first, I thought he was there with his mum, and I remember thinking “how sweet” but they called his name and I thought “rather me than you”. I have no idea how it worked out for him. I have had 21 years (so far), and I am so grateful for that. I also got an enormous wake up call, because while I didn’t say “why me” I guess I did say “why”. I struggled to understand the crashing of the fairy tale – I had been a “good girl”, people described me as industrious, hard-working, kind, etc. I had taken good care of myself, always fearing the heart disease that had plagued my dad since his forties, I ate well, never smoked, didn’t drink, went to the gym and stayed fit and slim. I didn’t understand why I was getting cancer when I didn’t fit the (fake) profile (it’s fake because breast cancer risks are being female, over 50 and having family history; the second two didn’t apply and there wasn’t much I could do about the first one). I quickly understood that life is extremely random. Bad things happen to good people. The fairy tale is… a fairy tale.  

Understanding life is random was a positive too. I think I made a better fist of it since then. I determined not to be quite as good, on my script “good” meant perfect and selfless. At that time, I didn’t have the understanding to challenge those fundamental flaws in my life map, but I did understand that working 60-70 hours a week wasn’t really serving me. I also understood – gasp – that in the face of such uncertainty about my future, work wasn’t about to take care of me! The people I worked with were amazing and I am lucky to have strong friendships that were forged before, during and after that time – you know who you are, and I love you. So, I decided that I would redirect my energy. At one point I was working full time and had four voluntary posts (school governor, support worker for a national breast cancer charity, member of the hospital’s patient engagement group for cancer and an experimental medicines committee member at another hospital. I did lots of different things, landed on spending my time between work, leisure, a couple of voluntary positions and a course in photography at the local technical college. On that course I met my now husband, an extremely patient, gentle and kind man.

Our lives since have been a rollercoaster, the lowest point was my mum being diagnosed with not one but two terminal illnesses six months after we were married, the high getting a Masters at 54 years of age. My volunteer work led to my coaching, a passion that makes me understand that work doesn’t have to be labour.  Recent years have been very hard, I think Covid changed us all and alongside that I have faced a few personal challenges. I have a small circle of family and very close friends who are constant and very precious to me. Who knows what the future holds? I am glad to be here, and I am grateful for every experience. Most of all I am so grateful for who I am, for what life has made me – kind, fierce, forgiving and brave.