A gift from mum

Everyone remembers their favourite teacher. We also remember the teacher we really didn’t like. Some of us may even have words (positive or negative) that were spoken to us by a teacher that we never forgot. If it was negative, I’m sorry that this happened to you. I tried my best to make a difference. Maybe this point isn’t always made clear enough to students and parents - teachers really do care. Anyway, that’s not my point here. 

I have said this to say that I never really thought that I would have a student whose life would impact me. Just after my diagnosis in 2019, I attended the funeral of a student that I had taught. Of course, it was very upsetting. The passing of a young person is always heartbreaking. But, I can tell you right now that I think of that student often. I think of their strength, their courage, their positive attitude, their determination. And, when I’ve felt down, or had to undergo a painful procedure, I think of that student. You won’t believe how I can give myself a kick up the butt and get on with things after those thoughts. Hand on my heart, in June/July 2020, when I believed that my time may be up, I was consoled by the fact that I would meet that student again. Truly. Right now though, a year later, I’m not ready for this to be over.                                                                                                                                                                                                                        
I’d like to go back in time. I want to share what happened in the lead up to allowing poison to be injected into my veins.

In hindsight, I can see there were signs of my illness months before. Some days I would get home and sit in the car in silence because I was just too tired to get out. One day, I drove myself directly to the medical centre, after work, because I had been experiencing chest pain most of the day. I sat in the car park at the medical centre almost convinced that I was about to have a heart attack. The pain was so intense that breathing was causing pain in my chest. There are heart issues in my family so it wasn’t completely an overreaction on my part. I was diagnosed with costochondritis. It was nothing to be worried about. I had neck pain and back pain which the physiotherapist just didn’t seem to be able to help with. I requested a different physiotherapist but that change didn’t help either. He diagnosed me with “non-determined neck pain”. I had been doing judo (haha, correction, trying to do judo) for a few years by now and did think maybe all the throwing around was just taking its toll on my body. Argh, I can’t believe I hadn’t broken a bone!

Our trip to America in 2019, was cut short by a week when we flew back early because I wasn’t well. The feeling of relief when the plane touched down…I can’t even explain! I’m sure you know that feeling of being home, finally. I was unwell for a further 7 weeks before I was eventually told by a choked-up, young, female doctor, in ER, after having had a CT scan, of my diagnosis. I remember just thinking to myself, “This is how it ends”.  When you enter the Breast Cancer Club you make friends with people who have cancer. This is a great thing. It just sucks when you see their cancer return, the treatments they endure and then their passing - it then becomes the worst thing to have friends with breast cancer. I realise this may seem to be a cold comment but you know what I mean. And remember, I did say I would be honest. My thoughts aren’t always rainbows and unicorns as some may think!

With the diagnosis written on my medical file, I was checked in to the hospital for a stay. There I would have 400 ml of fluid drained from the lining of my lung. I would also start treatment. I had many visitors. They had sad faces of course. Some cried. Let’s be real, when cancer comes back, there’s an unspoken truth. Everyone is thinking it, “She doesn’t have long”. Please don’t deny this, I thought it too. Everyone says these wonderful words but underneath…c’mon seriously?!

That first night in hospital, I listened on repeat to a song my SIL sent me, “Take Courage”. I can’t really listen to it now because it reminds me of that night. But, I let the words sink in and tried to speak myself into getting on a unicorn and riding into a rainbow. 

The following morning, before the sun was up, I was awoken by the blood collector. I cried when she told me she was there to take may blood. She cried right back. It was so nice later that day when she popped in to see how I was. At that minute, I was with the husband and we were laughing about something. She said that she was glad to see me happy. Either that day or the next, a nurse asked if she could pray for me. That was nice. All these little things, I kept in my heart. And, when I felt down, I remembered the kind people around me. 

Something I also try to remember is that everyone has some challenge to overcome. It may be divorce, death, disease, abuse, disability, ill health, loss, conflict or estrangement. I don’t want to cheapen this with the saying, “be kind, everyone is fighting some kind of battle”, but have we ever really thought about what that really means?

A number of people have lessened the challenge that they are facing because it can’t be worse than my challenge. Cancer wins every time right? No way. I know some challenges that people face and I’lll take cancer. Honestly. So please, don’t feel sorry for me. I want to share my thoughts with you because I want you to know that we can gain strength from each other. Having said all that, I’d be happy to hand my challenge right back hahaha Where’s my #livingmybestlife? It did also appear that some people were showing off their good health too much sometimes. But yeah, Regina Brett got it right when she said, "If we threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back". I'll take mine. You must take yours. 

I'm an office fan and I thought of this scene. I think David was trying to quote Brett. 

(NB: You will need to click on "View Web Version" at the bottom of the post to view the video.)

I also acknowledge that the challenges that we face are meant to help us to help those around us. I love the stories of people who overcome adversity and then put themselves right back there to pull others up. 

So today, I draw strength from God foremost. I draw strength from those who I have known and from those who walk with me now. I also draw strength in knowing I have a future and a purpose. 

And so that nothing is a waste, I sincerely pray that you may draw some strength from me xx

MEDICAL REGIME (First line of treatment)
Zolodex: A monthly injection to stop ovaries from functioning
Denosumab: A monthly injection to strengthen bones
Kisquali: Oral chemo
Femara: Aromatase inhibitor