10 years on – a new decade, a new diagnosis

I had hoped, perhaps naively, that once the 10-year anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis came around, I could end this blog for good. Of course, life is never that simple, is it?

I didn’t post anything on my 10-year anniversary on June 22nd because I was fairly certain I was heading for a secondary diagnosis. Sure enough, almost exactly a decade to the day, I found out earlier this month that the original cancer has spread to my bones. It is now stage four, also known as incurable, metastatic or secondary breast cancer, which means it will never be cured, but it can be treated.

I am clutching onto the fact that I got a whole 10 years to live my life to the full without the knowledge that my cancer was still lurking somewhere inside me. In those 10 years I’ve accomplished the most extraordinary things and had the most incredible life.

In particular, 2022 has been the year I’ve fulfilled some lifelong dreams, from launching a podcast to the publication of my first novel, Single Bald Female. Who knows if I would have done those things if I’d known that my cancer had never truly gone away? I know you might feel sorry for me, but I count myself lucky.

Recovering from a bone biopsy at the Royal Marsden hospital

Chapter Two

From today, I’m starting a new chapter, moving my musings to my newsletter, which you can subscribe to here. I’ve written a post about what it all means, what to say and what not to say, and how you can help. I’ve learned so much in the last couple of weeks about how little we know about secondary breast cancer and I know I have a role in helping people to learn and understand. I also speak from the perspective of someone 10 years older than I was when I was diagnosed back in the summer of 2012 at the age of 29.

I might still post on this blog from time to time, particularly as The Big Scary ‘C’ Word still gets a huge amount of love from people searching for guidance on hair loss, infertility, chemotherapy and beyond. But for now, head on over to Chapter Two and stay in touch.

The one where I forget my eight-year cancerversary

I thought June 22 was a date etched in my brain forever, but it turns out I completely forgot my eight-year cancerversary, so I guess I must be moving on. (Either that or there’s been a few other things to think about.)

Seven years on – why it’s okay to quit

One of the phrases most commonly associated with cancer is ‘life’s too short’. Then there’s ‘live every day as if it’s your last,’ ‘appreciate the little things’ and ‘what would you do if you weren’t afraid?’ While I absolutely agree with all of the above, I think that anyone who is living with, or has had, cancer will tell you that in practice they aren’t always possible.

Six years on: tamoxifen, guilt and life after cancer

Today marks six years since I was diagnosed with breast cancer and I’m not quite sure how to sum up everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours, let alone the last year or six years. So here’s a list, in no particular order, of random thoughts and people who have inspired me.

Five Years On

Today marks the day that, five years ago, I entered St. Vincent’s Hospital completely oblivious about the state of my health and left with the news that I had cancer. It was a day that would change my life in so many ways, not so much because of the horrors the illness would bring for me but because of the wonderful people I would meet because of it, and those I would lose along the way.

Five Reasons Why I’m Trekking Across Iceland for CoppaFeel

In August, I’m trekking 60km across Iceland (the country, not the supermarket) to raise money for a small but perfectly formed charity named CoppaFeel! Despite the daunting prospect of sore knees, blisters, sleep deprivation from the four hours of nightly darkness and the small matter of raising £2,695, I’m up for the challenge. 

Three good things

Three good things happened to me last month. Here they are (in order of occurrence, not importance):

1. I had laser eye surgery

2. I got discharged from my oncologist (forever, I hope)

3. My three-year MRI scan came back clear

Three years later, operation No. 2 is done

And so it was that almost three years to the day of my original surgery, I found myself going under the knife again. This time it was to remove a cyst that emerged after my original operation in June 2012 and recently got infected. So, no biggie. However, as with anything in the world of boobs, hospitals and health, it was not without its fair share of drama.

Two years on and still nothing sinister

So this photo popped up on my Facebook feed the other day.

There’s nothing like Facebook to give you that big surprise surge of emotions with a visual image – whether it’s a photo of your ex on his wedding day or a school photo of you with pudding-bowl hair circa 1990 that someone has recovered from their parents’ house. Or, in my case, a pic of you larking about in a photo booth mid-chemo with a completely bald head and some ill-informed eyebrow pencillage.

HuffPost: Timelapse Video of 18 Months of Hair Growth After Chemo

I haven’t written anything on this blog since February, which is due to a combination of having just completed a Masters degree in nine months and starting a new job immediately after, and – more importantly – having no cancer news to report.