Blog Posts - Womb Cancer Support UK

My womb cancer story by S.R.

16/9/2020

My name is Sam and I'm 35 years old. I found out in November 2017, at the age 33 years old that I had cancer cells in the lining of my womb.
I found out after 4 years of trying for a baby and being seen by consultants regularly. I pushed for a scan as I wasn’t happy with the pain and bleeding I was getting, and after many trips to the doctors and even A&E for the bleeding I was still told it was normal and nothing was wrong with me.

Obviously they fobbed me off for so long but I kept on at them and then after 3 biopsy’s & a pelvis MRI, it then showed I had grade 2 tumour, it went from cells to a tumour and my world shattered to pieces.
It went from trying for a baby to suddenly thinking I was dying and sobbing hysterically in the hospital saying i don’t want to die.

There was talk of chemotherapy which again just terrified me I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and I just wanted the cancer out of me straight away.
I needed a hysterectomy, which I had on December 19th 2017 and thankfully the cancer was contained in the womb. I had a full hysterectomy and 21 lymph nodes taken, luckily it hadn’t spread and I then had 4 lots of brachytherapy.
No further treatment but check ups needed every 3 months. I have just gone on to six monthly check ups and yes I am still a nervous wreck & heartbroken I’ll never have my own baby but one thing this has taught me is live life to the full.

I will never give up on my baby dreams and have the most amazing sister who has offered to be a surrogate for me and my husband. At the moment we cannot financially afford it but one day i will keep praying it will happen.

If ever in doubt see your GP and don’t be fobbed off.

Waiting & waiting - by J.M

12/9/2020

I’ve not been diagnosed with cancer ! But here’s my journey so far.

After 10+ years of no menstrual cycle I suddenly started bleeding. At first I thought piles, or I’d caught myself somehow with a scratch. Then the stomach cramps came too. I felt like a teenager not knowing if I had started my periods ( again, obviously). The blood got heavier, some days bright red, pinkish or brown. Then some rather large blood clots or lots of splinter size clots appeared. That’s when I decided to go to the doctors. I was immediately sent to A&E. My husband called a friend to take us, as he didn’t want me driving that far. ( It’s about 45-50 mins drive if traffic is good or can be an hour plus) Once there I knew it would be a long day!

Due to Covid-19 restrictions I had to register at A&E then go in by myself, while hubby & friend waited in the family room. I was soon called into Triage & assessed. I started to feel a bit silly at this point, thinking they’d see me as a Drama Queen! In all honesty I wasn’t waiting long before being called to see the doctor. Living in Spain & not speaking much Spanish is definitely frowned upon by medical staff ! I have to start every conversation with “ Lo siento, hablo muy poco español “ ( Sorry , I speak very little Spanish) Which always gets the same reply “ But you live here, no ?”

So I apologised and the doctor talks in broken English, which is still better than my Spanish attempts. After answering questions on my symptoms she’s examines me. I’m then sent for blood tests & given two drips ( to stop the bleeding). A further wait then called back to hear my bloods are ok, take these tablets for 5 days & wait for a call for a further appointment with Gynaecologist.
Bleeding stopped for 2 days but then returned. Four weeks later I went to see gynaecologist. Again due to covid I had to see consultant on my own, while husband & friends waited outside hospital. I had written down & translated into Spanish all my symptoms & recent events. I also mentioned that my Dad had had Cancer of Colon, liver, pancreas, stomach.
I was told to sit on “The Examination Chair” ( legs in stirrups) while she examined me. She called a nurse in with some urgency. I wasn’t prepared for the rest .... a hysteroscopy scan, two cytologies & a biopsy.
Think whole hospital heard me yell as she did biopsy, it took me by surprise & she hadn’t warned me! I was left to compose myself for about 5 minutes then rejoined them in the office. She said to sign the form, presumably for doing biopsy. I was told she would see me in 6 weeks. With the language barrier, it’s harder to speak out as you normally would & feeling fragile, I said OK & left.
I came out & cried while telling hubby what they had done. We google translated the notes she had given me to see exactly what she had just done ! Once home I was on google looking up all the words on the doctors sheet. Translating & evaluating it all. Thicker womb lining, so googled what it should be etc ... Everything pointed to Womb Cancer.
My husband told me not to google or to worry ! Easier said than done! I was back at work but working in tourism in Spain was getting worse with the pandemic & our flights from UK were suspended again, so back on ERTE ( Spanish equivalent of furlough) Giving me more time to sit & ponder !

The bleeding got worse & so did the panicking. I tried not to think about it. I hadn’t told anyone about my biopsy etc except the friends who took us to hospital. I have 2 grown up girls & a granddaughter living in UK & didn’t want them worrying. My husband mentioned my heavy bleeds & clots to our friends who said to go back to doctors as I might be getting anaemic. So off I went, only to be told to go back to A&E. Which I did. Same thing as last time, bloods taken, put on drip, tablets given to take for 3 days. I was told the results from biopsy weren’t back & would have to wait to be called back & would be in next 4 weeks ( 6 in total as originally advised!)

So here I am, bleeding had stopped for 6 days after last hospital visit but then resumed! I’m no nearer knowing what’s going on, what my diagnosis is or what journey I have ahead. All I know is the fear of having Cancer is the worse thing ever.
Every symptom I have points to C and not sure it could be anything else. Deep down I have that “ gut feeling” it is Cancer, but until I hear from the gynaecologist I won’t be totally sure. I’m hoping I’m wrong & this will all go away but not sure how, without a hysterectomy.
My journey hasn’t started yet, this is just a pre-journey , an insight, with the fear factor looming!

My biggest fear is having to tell my girls, who have already lost their father.

I sit & await my results , which are yet to come....

UPDATE : On my 3rd week after biopsy I was called for my results appointment in two days. Now the panicking really set in! At the appointment we went into a different part of the hospital, very quiet & serine. Sat waiting seemed like forever. The waiting room was further down the corridor from the consultant too, so you never saw anyone going in or out.
I was told that the results were inconclusive but she hadn’t seen anything “sinister”. She examined me & did another biopsy. She said the biopsy were “blind biopsies“ & they needed to see inside the womb more which would be another hysteroscopy but under general anaesthetic so they can look deeper & get a better biopsy sample. She indicated that if found, it would be early stages & treatable. The end results would probably be a hysterectomy.
Due to Covid 19 the clinics aren’t running as normal so I may be waiting up to 2 months for my hysteroscopy appointment. So I’m still waiting for a final diagnosis but feel better that they didn’t find anything big to begin with. It gives me hope.
I’ve now told my girls in UK & received a large bouquet of flowers followed by my youngest on a surprise visit to Spain ( & yes I cried when I saw her!) I now have their support too, which I’m so grateful for.

MORAL HERE TO ALL LADIES - know the symptoms of Cancer & please get checked out at the first signs of anything you know not to be right! Better to spend time at doctors & be wrong than leave it to grow!

My Cancer Journey – Karen Crump

9/9/2020

Aged 50 I had pretty much stopped having periods but was having intermittent spotting. Following a pelvic ultrasound scan I was diagnosed with fibroids, told that it was quite possible that I would get a bit of spotting due to the size of them as I moved around and that the fibroids would as reduce in size as I went through the menopause and not to worry.

Roll forward 3 years, I felt very well but was having hot flashes and so I went to see my GP to see if I could get some help. The locum Doctor prescribed a combined HRT treatment. I started taking HRT and felt marvellous in terms of my skin/ hair/ energy/ hot flashes but noticed my vaginal secretions were slightly different. I put this down to the additional oestrogen in my body and wasn’t worried.

The next year was very difficult for me in terms of work and family life. The spotting was increasing in severity and I was getting a bit of bloating, which I put down to stress. A year after starting HRT, I went back to my GP to ask if I should stop it. Luckily for me the Practice Nurse was concerned and arranged some blood tests Ca125 and Ca19-9. I stopped the HRT and the bleeding stopped almost immediately. However, the blood tests went on to show something abnormal so I was sent to the Gynaecology Rapid Action Clinic for a pelvic ultrasound scan. This time the scan showed some abnormal cells as well as a very thick womb lining and fibroids so further investigation was required. I was somewhat duped into having a hysteroscopy without anaesthetic so that I could get the appointment quicker (sooo painful, tragic that the NHS staff suggested that a couple of painkillers would suffice!). The biopsy conducted during the hysteroscopy confirmed that I had endometrial adenocarcinoma (a type of womb cancer) and I received this news on New Year’s Eve 2018. It wasn’t a very Happy New Year!

Initially I had been booked into my local hospital for a small operation in the New Year to remove the abnormal cells (a “polyp”) but this was cancelled when my cancer was diagnosed. I was then booked in for a laparoscopic (key-hole) hysterectomy in my local hospital.

Further tests were conducted (CT scan/ MRI scan/ X rays) which showed that the cancer had actually spread to my pelvic and para-aortic lymph nodes which staged my cancer at Stage 3C2. This meant that I couldn’t have surgery at my local hospital after all and I was referred to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Gateshead which is the Northern Gynae Centre of Excellence. It also meant that I would need to be treated with surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy.

Whilst waiting for surgery I went into googling overdrive to find out more about my cancer type and treatment options. I came across Womb Cancer Support UK and started following the posts. One post mentioned the “Canceractive” website and forum which I started following too. I purchased a book called “Everything you need to know to beat cancer” by Chris Woollams and started changing my lifestyle to maximise my chances of becoming cancer free. I also got a “Personal Prescription” from Chris Woollams to fine tune what I needed to do. I changed to the “Rainbow Diet”, ditched sugar; ate organic food wherever possible, took supplements including probiotics, walked every day, got more sleep, and eliminated stress wherever possible. There was also guidance on how to manage chemotherapy and radiotherapy effectively which proved to be very important (not necessarily what the NHS would advocate though!)

In February 2019 I was booked in for a radical hysterectomy at Gateshead which included removal of womb, fallopian tubes, ovaries, head of cervix, and the omentum (fatty layer under the diaphragm as well as pelvic and para-aortic lymph nodes. The operation was planned as keyhole surgery but with the possibility of a larger incision as necessary. On the actual morning of my surgery, I was informed by the Clinical Lead that there was a possibility that I might have two primary tumours and that ovarian cancer may be present too so I was being prepped for possible bowel involvement and had to give consent for a stoma should it be necessary. As I was wheeled into the theatre waiting area five hours later, I was informed that I was having a different Consultant, a different Anaesthetist, a different operating theatre and a different operation! So I had to give my consent all over again…. This time I was definitely having a major operation with a vertical incision. This was a real low point and I felt so vulnerable in that moment as my cancer journey was ever changing and getting progressively worse. However, I was confident that I was in the right place for the surgery, I was fit as I could be for the surgery having prepared well, and that I would have a positive outcome. The surgery took five and half hours which scared my husband and son witless as they thought it would only take 3 hours, but I am glad to say that the surgery went very well and there was no Ovarian cancer to worry about too. I woke up able to wiggle my toes (no paralysis from the epidural) and no stoma bag!! I recovered from the surgery really quickly and was allowed home after 4 days with a very neat scar!

After recovering from surgery for two months, I went through 4 three-week cycles of chemotherapy (Paclitaxel and Carboplatin). I seemed to cope with my chemotherapy very well which I put down to eating well, taking my probiotics and supplements, taking regular exercise and having hyperbaric oxygen therapy which I arranged for myself although my Oncologist didn’t support this.

In September 2019, I started 25 sessions of radiotherapy to my whole torso at my local hospital although my treatment was supervised by my consultant based in Newcastle. I felt sick on my very first treatment and was informed that I couldn’t possibly be feeling sick as that side effect doesn’t start for a few weeks and they suggested maybe I was just worried? Over the next few weeks, my side effects became increasingly severe and the local staff continued to ignore what I was saying and refused to examine me. I self-diagnosed “severe radiation proctitis” and was so concerned that I went to see my GP. He agreed with my diagnosis and said that I was very close to needing a colostomy bag as the damage was so great to my lower colon/ rectum from the radiotherapy treatment. We researched the best practice treatment regime to repair the damage and he wrote a letter to the hospital staff to advise pausing my treatment and explaining what medication was required. The next day it took me hours to finally arrange to get the prescription from my local hospital that I needed to heal the damage. I chose to stop radiotherapy treatment at this point. I completed 19 of the planned 25 sessions which didn’t make my Radiotherapy Consultant very happy but I didn’t want to risk further surgery arising from the treatment itself.

A month later in October 2019, I was fully recovered from my severe radiation proctitis and I was very fortunate to be told that there was “no evidence of disease.” I am now on three monthly check ups alternating between my Gynaecologist and Oncologist and remain cancer free after 10 months. The check-ups comprise blood tests, a chat about whether I have any symptoms, and a physical examination when I see my Gynaecologist.

Key learnings from my cancer journey – be gynae cancer aware, act early (time really does matter!), be flexible, the cancer journey is different for everyone and it isn’t always straight forward, get the best hospital possible for treatment if you can, stay positive, investigate lifestyle changes and alternative treatments to support you, be empowered – do what is right for you and your body as it is your cancer journey! (and change your consultant if necessary…)

My story by K.C

5/9/2020

I was 52 years old and going through what I believed was the menopause, then in March 2019 I started to have a slight show, not all the time just once every now and then. I didn’t give it a second thought. By mid April I was constantly bleeding - a permanent period but not as heavy as I used to get them so still thought it was just the menopause.

We went away for the early May Bank Holiday weekend with friends, a journey which took us 2 hours in the car. In the time it took us to get there I’d bled so much it had soaked through to the car seat. Alarm bells rang and I was on the phone to the Dr first thing on the Tuesday morning.

Blood tests showed nothing and still no let up in the bleeding. Within weeks I’d been for X-rays and scans - it showed the lining of my womb was a “little” thicker than it should be. It was in fact, as I was later to discover, 23mm.

I can’t fault my GP, she kept pushing for more tests and only when I had the biopsy, then the results, did I find out I had cancer of the womb.

I had a complete hysterectomy the day before my 53rd Birthday. Two weeks later I went for the pathology results to find out the grading/stage. Stage 1A, Grade 1. The best result I could have wished for. I feel incredibly lucky that my GP kept pushing those tests. I know how fortunate I am to have caught it early but it doesn’t stop the feelings of guilt. Guilt that others are not as fortunate as me and my biggest fear is that it will return somewhere else.

It has highlighted other health issues which are still ongoing and will be for some time to come. My family and a few close friends have been my absolute rocks through this journey and continue to be through everything else that’s in front of me.

Ladies, keep fighting that fight and never give up. You are stronger than you know❤️

If you would be willing to share your story to help raise awareness then please get in touch using the contact form.

My story by Clare Watkins

2/9/2020

I am writing this from my bed; I am currently 2 and a half weeks post-op. I had a full hysterectomy including ovaries and cervix (completed through keyhole surgery) after a diagnosis of endometrial (womb) cancer.
When I had my diagnosis, it didn’t come as a shock to me – it was more of a shock to others around me. Having to tell my loved ones that I had The C Word diagnosis was the worst part. However, hopefully my story will help others to know and understand the signs and to get checked out what doesn’t seem right.

I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovaries (PCOS) in my early 20s. My GP told me on diagnosis that I had a 30% chance of ever conceiving and that this percentage would go down with time. At this time I wasn’t with anyone, was quite fresh out of university and certainly didn’t have plans to start a family.
I had been experiencing very heavy and irregular periods for a long time and went to get it checked out. During this time I was put on the pill, had a coil fitted and swiftly removed because my body began to reject it and contract it out. Nothing worked. There is a lot of irony surrounding how birth control can be used to help with gynaecological issues when you have been told you have a low chance of ever having a baby…I have thought about that a lot over the years.
…
Time moved on and symptoms remained the same. My periods were still the same, but then the irregular periods started. I would have a period then not have another for 2 to 3 months. Where most women would be buying a pregnancy test, I just had to sit there and wait.
I still never found anyone I wanted to settle down with and try for kids. During my whole life since my teens I struggled with my weight – up and down. I know this isn’t helped by PCOS, but I have also always been a comfort eater. It seemed like a never ending cycle (excuse the pun) – nothing seemed to be helping anything else. It was just the way I was.
I’m going to fast forward a few years…in 2014 I met my fiancé. I was 32 then. He’s amazing. We are getting married in April 2021. When we met, we hit it off straight away. I knew he was the one I would spend the rest of my life with. He is 10 years older than me, and had 2 children from a previous marriage. He had also had a vasectomy around 7 years prior to our meeting. On knowing this, I was faced with a decision to stay and forfeit the chance of even trying for children, or leaving and trying to find someone else. I stayed. His children were a gift to me. They are also amazing.

It’s easy to say on hindsight, but I do believe in some way that someone somewhere was shielding me from the heartache of trying and failing to conceive and carry a baby. I have shed many tears over never being pregnant, never being able to know what it feels like to carry a baby and then nurture a child of my own. I have always been maternal and always felt that I would have had at least 2 or even more children. Life and maybe fate just takes over sometimes.
I still had issues with my menstrual cycle and thought I should go and get some investigations done. I was eventually referred to a brilliant consultant who didn’t palm me off or put it down to ‘women’s issues’. She ordered an external and internal ultrasound scan. The results came back and it was decided that I was to have a hysteroscopy for more investigation and biopsies. I had this operation awake with a very non-descript local anaesthetic. They decided it would be better for me to not have general anaesthetic due to my weight. This, at the time, was probably the most painful procedure I have had, awake! I will save you the gruesome details but if you want to know more about what this is like, I will be happy to share. It was at this point that I thought I needed to do something about my weight – for my health and for my upcoming wedding.

The results came back – I was diagnosed with endometrial hyperplasia – a pre-cancerous condition which showed an unusual thickening of the lining of the womb. It is possible to reverse this condition through losing weight and I was also prescribed progesterone tablets. A repeat biopsy was planned for 4 months’ time to keep an eye on the thickness of the lining of the womb.
I started the tablets and continued with my weight loss. Then the Coronavirus hit. The whole country went into lockdown. My repeated biopsies were meant to happen in April, but I had them in June 2020. I was commended for my weight loss and it was hoped that this would have improved my condition, but within 2 weeks I was called to the hospital to see my consultant. I knew that something was wrong, particularly as hospital visits were still few and far between because of COVID-19.

After a restless night, I made my way to the hospital. I had to go alone due to restrictions at the hospital. Masked up, I sat waiting for my consultant and eventually made our way to a consultation room. I was given the news that I did indeed have womb cancer. My consultant apologised to me – she was sure that the condition would have reversed, but it didn’t.
At this point I just want to say one important thing. There are many people who everyday will get a cancer diagnosis. I have close friends living with cancer, my brother’s girlfriend died of a gynaecological cancer in her 20s. My fiancé has lost many family members to cancer. Many families are devastated by cancer every day. This is not a tale of woe for me; I want to make this clear. I am not writing as an outlet to feel sorry for myself, but rather to spread awareness. This has become more important to me since my diagnosis than anything.

It was thought that my cancer had been found early. An MRI scan was booked to confirm this and to be discussed with the MDT panel. I met the Macmillan Oncology nurses who talked to me and gave me a lot of information to read. They also gave me a telephone number so I always knew I had someone to talk to.
I felt quite apprehensive about the MRI scan; having been in generally good health to this point, I didn’t know what to expect apart from a feeling of claustrophobia. Again I had to go to this appointment alone, but this time my sister came with me and sat in the car. I’m not going to say that having an MRI is my favourite thing to do, but it wasn’t as bad as I had thought. It was noisy, and it took longer than I thought but I kept my eyes closed the whole time so I never saw how close I was to the scanning machine.

My results came in and it was confirmed that I had stage 1A cancer. A complete hysterectomy was planned including cervix and ovaries. Despite the restrictions of COVID-19, I had my diagnosis and my operation within 6 weeks.
I am now waiting for the results from the path lab where everything that was taken out was sent to be checked. This will then confirm whether I need further treatment such as radiotherapy. I hope to have a follow up appointment with my surgeon in 6 weeks. I am now in menopause. I don’t know if I can have HRT due to the hormonal issues that caused my cancer.

I will write a follow up blog about my recovery once I have had the results confirmed.
So here I am writing to ask you – if you or someone you know has symptoms that are worrying you, if something doesn’t seem right please get it checked out and don’t be fobbed off. If it’s caught early then it can be treated.

Well Hello September.

1/9/2020

Well, here we are again. Today is the 1st September which means the start of womb cancer awareness month. This year is our 10th campaign and although we raise awareness every day of the year, during September we try to really step it up and make as much noise as we can to #GiveWombCancerAVoice.

As a very small organisation it has been hard work to be seen & heard over the past 10 years but we have tried very hard not only to raise awareness but to give a voice to the many women who have been diagnosed with womb cancer.

Back in 2018 I wrote a blog post here about why September matters for womb cancer. I still find it shocking that the most common gynaecological cancer & the 4th most common cancer to affect women does not have an official dedicated national awareness campaign.

The amount of awareness around for womb cancer was low 10 years ago when WCSUK started and sadly it is not much better now, despite us doing what we can. We have distributed almost 20,000 of our awareness leaflets up and down the UK. They have been placed in GP surgery & hospital waiting rooms, libraries, cafes, pharmacies, and countless other places.

The lack of a dedicated womb cancer charity has not helped; although we are a small dedicated organisation we don’t have the clout that a charity does. Happy to say that things are about to change on that front pretty soon.

This month sees the launch of Peaches Womb Cancer Trust, a charity that will be focussing on awareness & research. You can read more about them in a future blog post later this month.

So the future for womb cancer awareness is looking “peachy” and once September is over we can take a step back and have a bit of a rest. 10 years of talking about womb cancer has certainly taken its toll on my mental health. I have been lucky to have a small band of fellow survivors who have been with me along the way and have helped to #GiveWombCancerAVoice but it's now time for us to focus on what we were created to do and that is support those who have been diagnosed.

We will always be there for our #PeachSisters because #NoOneFightsAlone.

Another year goes by.

17/7/2020

10 years ago today, was my 47th Birthday. It was a day I didn't think I'd see after being diagnosed with cancer 7 months previously.

The intervening years have not been good; I've lost both of my parents, my Mom suddenly & unexpectedly to a rare type of cancer called cholangiocarcinoma or bile duct cancer & my Dad a couple of years ago to sepsis & my own health, both physically & mentally has deteriorated to the point where I rarely go out of the flat.

They say cancer changes your life, which it does but rarely for the better.

It ruins marriages and other relationships; it leads to massive financial hardship in many cases; it can end good careers & it forces a lot of us to totally revaluate the things we hold dear to us.

Of course, some good things do come out of it - like making new friendships & meeting people that you may never have thought of before.

Sometimes it can be hard, especially if you are in a position like I am where you are surrounded (even if it is only online) by others who have also been diagnosed & you seen people moving on after their diagnosis & getting some normality back in their lives.

Of course this may often be just what appears on the surface, in reality they may be struggling too but just don't show it. There seems to be this need to portray cancer patients who survive a diagnosis as "hero's" or "thrivers" but if you don't live up to what others, notably family members, think you should be then it can have a serious affect on your mental health.

I've heard from so many women over the years who say they are struggling but won't say anything to close family members because they don't want to worry them so they bottle everything up & just get even more stressed out & then mental issues get worse & worse.

Better mental health support is needed for cancer patients, & it needs to be long term. The fear of a recurrence is never far away. Even after many years it is always lurking at the back of your mind, just waiting for an unexplained ache or pain to occur & then it jumps out of the darkness & starts running riot in your brain.

Quality of life post cancer is important. It is no good surviving cancer if you can't live the rest of your life to the fullest. Maybe asking to live your life as if cancer had never shown its ugly face is asking too much..... but then again maybe not.

So today it is my 57th Birthday. It will be a day like any other, nothing worth celebrating. It's been a very long time since I had anything worth celebrating.

Cancer robs you of so much, but you have to go through it to understand that.

What we all fear - by NP

31/1/2020

Reoccurrence… The word each and every one of us fears the most. 'You have cancer' is hard enough to hear the first time round but what about the second?
In November 2016 I was diagnosed with endometrial cancer. It was found by mistake, part of another routine operation, and my life changed there and then. The consultant asked if I understood, I said I did, but I didn't. I didn't understand the impact cancer would have on my life. A radical hysterectomy later and no further treatment required. A long year of recovery, surgical menopause and getting back to normal. A sigh of relief and a 'thank God that's over' little did I know what was round the corner.

Fast forward two years to the day, there I am, same room I had my initial diagnosis, legs akimbo, having a biopsy. No symptoms of reoccurrence but a small lesion at the bottom of my vagina. The consultant told me the chance of cancer was very small. I'd heard that once before, two years ago, when I was 'too young for cancer'. A week later I was at work and I started to bleed..I hid in the toilet but it didn't stop.
I rang 111 and ended up at A&E.. I thought that was it, my time was up.. A mass pv hemorrhage later and I was hooked up to two pints of blood in resus. That was the moment they told me… Semi conscious after almost bleeding to death.. Your cancer is back. Oh.. And its metastic so its automatically stage 4, possible spread to the liver.. Tests.. Scans…All I could think was I'm lucky to be alive so I'll deal with that tomorrow. I told my family in resus, the last time they saw me I was semi conscious so I think they were just relieved I was alive, so no-one had time to process unlike if I'd been told in a normal appointment, we just accepted it.

I was transferred to a ward and the next morning was visited by the oncology team.. They re-iterated the same conversation; Stage 4.. do you understand? Yes, I understood, I understood it was time to get back on the cancer rollercoaster.

The weeks that followed were as expected; tests, scans, more tests, recovering from the blood transfusion, traumatised that everytime I'd go to the toilet I'd be bleeding, thinking yet again about my own mortality.

Anyone who's had cancer will tell you the same. After the anger comes the 'why me?'.
43 years old and cancer twice. What did I do to deserve this?
After this comes acceptance. Then the plan. Everyone waits for the plan. Once it's in your hand the control is passed back to you and you can begin to process the shock.

Radiotherapy and brachytherapy followed, neither were pleasant. But even though I'd had no adjunctive treatment the first time so many things were familiar. The oncology nurse knew me well, she could tell me what would happen, reassure me. When she did my holistic needs assessment (for the second time!) I remember the conversation well. She asked what my biggest fear was.
It wasn't dying, it was uncertainty. Everyone dies someday and when your times up its up. My biggest fear was that it wouldn't work. My CNS told me a story about another lady she supported who has lived an amazing life for 15+ years (so far) with reoccurant endometrial cancer. She told me this was the first line treatment, she told me about all the other treatments that I could try if this didn't work, she gave me the one thing everyone needs.. Hope.

Ten weeks later and treatment was over. It was nowhere near as scary as the first time round. The environment was familiar, the people were familiar, the tests were familiar, the routine was the same, the familiarity was safe. Nearly a year on and I'm still recovering from the side effects of the mass blood loss and the treatment, but each day I remember I'm lucky to be here.

Reoccurrence, a scary word.. In reality not as scary as you imagine it to be.or you build up in your mind. The fear never really leaves you, it just get less and less each day. You still worry about every lump and bump, but no worse than the first time round, no worse than the fear that every cancer patient has.
And if it's 'third times a charm' for me then so be it. I will remember the words of the CNS and how many options are still out there for me.

I will never let cancer win.

No end story - but life goes on.

23/12/2019

Today, 23rd December, is a date that will live in my memory for ever. It is the day, 10 years ago that I was told I had womb cancer.
The diagnosis came completely out of the blue and changed my world forever.
I was being investigated for fibroids and cancer had never been mentioned so when I was told, over the phone, that a recent MRI had detected a tumour, I just fell apart.
10 years on, I am still living with the after effects of it all.

Every year that comes round, I look back on what I've lost and realise that cancer has changed my life forever.

The one thing that bothers me the most is that I've had no closure. I have never been told that the cancer has gone or that I'm in remission. I never had the chance to draw a line in the sand and say "now I can move on".

When I started WCSUK, I never for one moment thought I woudl still be doing it now. I started the organisation in April 2011 because I could see a need for a UK based mutual support network for women who had been diagnosed with womb cancer.
I had gone looking for something when I was first diagnosed and found nothing other than a couple of US based online support groups. I figured there must be other women in the UK out there who wanted support so I decided to set something up - and we're still going strong today.

I've said many times over the past 10 years that I regret having the treatment that followed my surgery. I was initially told beforehand that I would probably not require any further treatment as both my gynaecologist & surgeon were 99.9% sure that all the cancer qould be removed and further treatment would not be needed.
As it turned out, the top guy, the oncologist, thought otherwise and so I had to endure chemotherapy & radiotherapy and I'm still living with the consequences.
Had I known then what I know now I would have refused both and taken my chances.

Many people have told me over the years that I should be thankful that I no longer have cancer but I don;t feel that I have anything to be thankful for.
My life is a living hell and no-one other than my husband knows how hard each day is for me. I also live with the guilt that his health has suffered so much because he now has to look after me despite having his own serious health issues.

Several times over recent years I have considered backing off from WCSUK because of the health issues, both physical & mental that I have to deal with on a daily basis and to some extent I have but as it has gotten closer to this milestone I had seriously been considering stopping doing what I do. Not closing the organisation down but just letting it run on without any input from me.

Right up until last night, I still hadn't made my mind up on what to do.

It was only upon logging on this morning jist before 8am and finding a message from one of the young ladies who had been diagnosed earlier in the year that I made my decision. She is really struggling wth the thought of having to face her first Christmas knowing she will be surrounded by family members, some with young children and new babies knowing that she will never be a mother herself. She said that the support she had received from the other women in the private support group had helped her so much and she thankked me for having set u the organisation and for being there for her.

I thought back 10 years and remembered how scared and frightened I felt when I was told I had cancer. I remembered all the times I had cried myself to sleep over the following nights that Christmas. I also remembered all the times since April 2011 that I had received messages & emails from women who had just been diagnosed and felt as scared as I had. The messages I get from women who have finished their treatment and been given the all clear.

WCSUK, and specifically the private support group we have on FB, helps so many women to deal with their diagnosis. Knowing they have someone they can talk to who knows how they feel, someone who "gets it" means so much to them.
I know it would have helped me so much all those years ago.

The organisation has never been about me but about all the women who find us and support each other along our individual journey with cancer.

So ths morning, as I sit hear drinking my coffe and listening to the birds stirring as the light brightens outside I have finally decided that WCSUK will go on and we will always (for as long as I'm alive) be here for any women who finds herself in that dark place that I was 10 years ago, hearing those words "I'm sorry but you have cancer"

No-one fights alone.

My womb cancer story by S.H

22/9/2019

I’m a trans masculine non-binary lesbian and was diagnosed with womb cancer last year at age 37.

I always had problems with my periods being heavy and painful. I was diagnosed with PCOS and endometriosis. I struggled to get doctors to do anything about it as I had no interest in having children.

My periods got even worse than usual and my doctor prescribed txa. It all finally came to a head in December 2017 when I collapsed through blood loss and had to go to A&E. That triggered them looking into the problem but meant a series of tests which I found very difficult to deal with given my gender dysmorphia.

They gave me a smear test, an internal and external ultrasound and they attempted a hysteroscopy but I couldn’t cope with that so I needed to have a second attempt under general anaesthetic. They told me they’d take a biopsy while they were having a look “just to be on the safe side”.

Getting a call from the hospital saying I needed to attend an appointment first thing the following morning. It wasn’t exactly a surprise when they told me I had cancer. The consultant was careful to explain that treatment would mean I would be unable to have children. They seemed surprised when it didn’t appear to bother me but carrying a child had never been something I wanted to do. I am the youngest person they have ever treated.

I was lucky. It was caught early. I was stage 1a and all I needed was a hysterectomy with no further treatment. I live alone several hundred miles away from family and as I was unable to care for myself, my mother looked after me for ten weeks. I’m not out to her and stifling that part of myself for so long was painful. I became very passive.

The medical team don’t seem clued up on how to deal with someone in my situation. I still need regular checkups with my consultant and they involve an internal examination. When I expressed that I found anything to do with penetration difficult, they actually said “don’t you use toys?” Not those types I don’t.

I tend to present at my most feminine at my checkups. I’m surrounded by women in the waiting area and feel uncomfortable presenting masculine in what is a very female space.

I think more could be done in gynaecology for those who are LGBT+. Everyone’s experience is different but not treating us as stereotypes would help.

September is Womb Cancer Awareness Month

1/9/2019

Well, here we are again. September has arrived and that means just one thing - it’s womb cancer awareness month.
We will be spending the next month talking all things womb cancer related and trying to raise as much awareness as we can.

Sadly, as a tiny organisation with no advertising budget or paid staff or media contacts or celebrity followers we don’t get seen or heard in the mainstream media but that doesn’t stop us shouting from the roof tops and making a lot of “social media” noise.

I am passionate about raising awareness of womb cancer. The fact that it is the most common gynaecological cancer yet gets very little attention baffles me.
Why do not more women know about it? How many of them are at risk of getting diagnosed yet are unaware of it? How many already have the typical symptoms but don’t realise that they may already have it?

Go into any GP surgery waiting room in the UK and I bet you won’t find any information on womb cancer – unless one of my lovely #PeachSisters has left some of our awareness leaflets there.
Do you know that almost 15,000 of them have gone out around the country in the past 8 years? Not only are they in GP waiting rooms but also in libraries, gyms, café’s – even the ladies loo in a nightclub.

Womb cancer needs more attention & we will continue to shout about it for as long as we need to because it is a cancer that can affect women of all shapes & sizes. All women need to know about it and know about the risk factors and the signs and symptoms to be aware of.

So I hope that you will do your bit this September & help #GiveWombCancerAVoice.

Importance of female friendship by Margaret Chandler

18/8/2019

I have recently returned from a trip to Canada,where I met up with my penpal Julie, who I'd corresponded with for 50 years, since we were both 10 year old Girl Guides. We'd met each other as 15 year olds in 1974 and again briefly in 2001, but this was the first time we'd met in Canada, thus fulfilling a childhood promise we made to meet one day in Prince Edward Island (PEI), the setting for one of our favourite novels 'Anne of Green Gables'. This is the 1908 novel by LM Montgomery, telling the story of the redhaired orphan Anne Shirley and the friendship with her 'kindred spirit' Diana.

Julie and I had a wonderful time exploring PEI together, visiting Green Gables, seeing Anne the musical and immersing ourselves in the landscape which inspired the novel. We had time to get to know each other more intimately and catch up with each others lives over the past 50 years, and despite some prior reservations about whether we'd get along, these worries proved unfounded.

Since returning, rather reluctantly, to the UK, it's given me time to reflect on the power and importance of female friendship and support. Despite celebrating my 37th wedding anniversary recently and having shared both good and challenging times with my husband, it has always been my female friends that have been a constant in my life, especially when life has been toughest.

I am always indebted to the NCT mums who were there during the early days of motherhood, when sleep was in short supply and the days and nights seemed to merge into one. You saved my sanity on many an occasion!

The most traumatic time of my life was being diagnosed with Womb Cancer over 6 years ago. I'd not heard of the disease before diagnosis and knew nobody with the condition even when I joined a Gynae Cancer Support Group. The lack of support and isolation took a toll on my mental health and I was referred to the local Psycho-Oncology Service where my health began to improve. However the most important support for me came from the virtual world, when I discovered WCSUK by chance whilst scrolling through Facebook 15 months after my diagnosis. It was at this point I realised I was not alone. These women knew exactly what I was going through and the true road to recovery began for me.

I was able to return to my Latin Fitness Camp Dance Class, a group of fun, supportive women who have joined me on several Race for Life events, raising money for Cancer Research. Since diagnosis and as part of my recovery, I have taken up cycling and become a member of Leicester Women's Velo. This group has helped me raise awareness of Womb Cancer on 2 annual bike rides during September, and have helped me reach cycling goals I could only dream of.

Finally I am so grateful to have recovered both physically and mentally from Womb Cancer that I was able to make this very special trip to Canada, an experience I will treasure for the rest of my life!

Womb Cancer and I - by Reija Kime

11/8/2019

I was diagnosed with womb cancer in March this year. At 42-years old, I had thought I was way too young to have womb cancer - wasn't it something that affected women past their menopause? Turns out it isn't and since being diagnosed I have come across many, way too many women of my age and younger, who have been affected by womb cancer.

Before I was diagnosed with womb cancer, I was very unaware of the range of symptoms that can be a sign of cancer in the womb and it is only afterwards that I have come to realise that there were plenty of signs; I just didn't know them. Didn't associate them with cancer at all and that is why we need to raise as much awareness about womb cancer as we possibly can.

I first went to the doctor last autumn. For a while I had been having longer and heavier periods and then the pain started as well. It was definitely time to go to see my GP. But still I didn't think there was anything in particular wrong with me. I thought the changes in my periods were linked to getting older and an approaching menopause (happens early in my family). So I wasn't that worried when I booked an appointment. However, I did choose a doctor at the practise, who is specialised in women's 'problems' and who I felt would look into the causes of the changes properly and not just prescribe a solution. Maybe it was sixth sense or whatever you choose to call it that made me choose her.

And she was brilliant. She referred me to a gynaecologist straight away. And in the meantime gave me some pills to help with the excessive bleeding and pain (however, these didn't really help that much; I found that regular painkillers worked better for me). She also put me on some iron tablets as I was severely anaemic due to the heavy bleeding.

I then had a few months wait for the gynaecologist's appointment during which time the periods got even longer and heavier and I was taking painkillers nearly every day even when there was no bleeding.

My gynaecologist appointment finally arrived early this year and in it they could tell that the lining of my womb had thickened and decided to refer me to a further exam where they could look at it in more detail and take a biopsy. I faced another wait. And consumed more painkillers.

From the second appointment where they took the biopsy everything seemed to go really quickly and now, when I look back, it is all a bit of a blur. I remember going back to the hospital to hear the results for my second exam. My partner came with me. So far I had attended the appointments by myself but some reason (perhaps it was the sixth sense again) I felt that I needed him with me for this appointment. And I was right.

I could tell from the doctor's demeanour straight away that the news weren't good. He had explained to me the possibility of cancer the last time I had seen him but I had not really thought it would really be cancer - how could it. Again, I was only 42! He explained to us that it was cancer and that I would need to have CT and MRI scans to establish whether it had spread and what treatment would be needed - other than a hysterectomy, which I would definitely need to have.

Within a few weeks from that appointment I had had my scans and was meeting with an oncologist, who explained in detail the operation I was going to have: a radical hysterectomy. To be honest, I had to Google it once I got home, as, even though he explained it all to me, I couldn't really take it all in. He also asked me what my plans were for next Friday and told me to cancel them whatever they might be - I would be having surgery then. So we were moving quickly. Much more quickly than it took the fact that I had cancer to sink in. To become reality. Although there are still plenty of times when all this just seems so surreal.

Eventually the news did (kind of) sink in - I had cancer and I was going to have to have my womb removed (thank God I didn't want any children) and possibly would need further treatment, too. My oncologist had mentioned the possibility of further treatment following the surgery but we had not gone into detail; they would have a look at what was needed after the surgery. For my part I was happy to focus on getting through one thing at a time; I would face whatever might come after the surgery. The idea of having major surgery was scary enough, let alone the thought of chemo after.

My surgery went really well and so did the recovery from it. Within just a week after it I was able to move about with ease and actually had to keep reminding myself not to do too much and cause myself damage. And by the time my follow up appointment with the oncologist came around, I was feeling very positive. Partly because I had read that often a
hysterectomy was all that was needed to treat cancer of the womb and I wanted to believe that this would be the case with me as well.

But it wasn't to be. Because the cancer had had a chance to spread to lymph nodes, I was going to need a course of chemo and radiation therapy. Now of course I knew of chemo and the side-effects from that but I had not been aware that radiation therapy was also used to treat cancer (how blissfully ignorant I was). It was explained to me that though there were no visible signs of disease after the surgery, I would need to have six courses of chemo followed by five weeks of radiation therapy and two sessions of brachytherapy to ensure that all the disease was gone and to stop it from recurring.

I have now had five courses of chemotherapy and only one remains (yay!). The hair is long gone but other than that it honestly hasn't been too bad. I know I am lucky with having had minimal side-effects; I have not been feeling nauseous at all and other than the hair loss, tiredness and a strange, sort of restless feeling in my legs a few days after a treatment, I have been feeling fine. In fact, thanks to the lifestyle changes I have made and not being in constant pain due to heavy bleeding, I am actually (ironically) feeling better than I have felt in a long time. I am now looking after myself properly, exercising and eating healthily and I know that I am going to beat this cancer.

Having mentioned minimal side-effects there is one thing that I have been suffering from: menopausal symptoms. Especially the hot flushes. I keep waking up at night drenched in sweat. And have several moments each day when I perspire heavily. But this will pass. I am willing to endure whatever I need to in order to be well again. And indeed, the last CT scan I had showed a fantastic response to the treatment; knowing that it is working makes it easier to remain positive!

This week I have had my planning scan for the radiation. I had to have it twice because the first time my bowels weren't properly empty; the second time was better and radiology team is now busy preparing my radiation treatment, which will start after a short recovery period after the final chemo, which is two weeks tomorrow. I know that I still have challenging weeks ahead with the radiation but right now I am looking forward to be able to say: chemo done!
And I am truly, impatiently looking forward to October when all my treatments will be done and dusted and normal life can (slowly) resume again.

In the meantime (and after as well, of course) I want to keep raising awareness of womb cancer because had I been aware of all the symptoms, I might have been fine with 'just' a hysterectomy and not needed chemo and radiation. It is vital to know the symptoms because, as with any type of cancer, the earlier it is discovered, the more effective the treatment will be.

If you wish to read more about my experiences and thoughts around cancer and many things related (and some not so related) - do check my blog

: https://letstalkaboutcword.blogspot.com/.

Life after Cancer by Kelly Kolkiewicz

4/8/2019

“This too shall pass” is a quote often used to console people in times of trouble. I hate it. In the long term, of course, we all pass and that’s the end of things for us (I’m saying this as an atheist). But in the short term, no, this hasn’t passed. I suffered from uterine cancer and the fact that I can’t have my own family will never pass. I have to live with it.
I have lost plenty of friends to cancer and have been/am numb with loss and grief. I remember a doctor soon after my diagnosis writing what I said to her in my medical notes “I have lost a lot of things”. What I meant was I have lost my health, my trust in my (previously very healthy) body, my peace of mind, the future I thought I was going to have as a newly-wed. I lost the ability to have fun, I was depressed, could no longer find joy in things. I cried every day for pretty much 2 years. Not all the time, but at odd moments, and still do. But how do you live with the after-effects of cancer? I’ve had to carve a life of moments and experiences and to find meaning and friendships that I wouldn’t have had otherwise. No, being ill was never a good thing, but some good things came out of it. I want to share with you what has helped me, because I was lost and felt I was floundering, but you can get through these things, and if you don’t, you can make things better for yourself and others along the way.

1. The best thing I did was join a support group. I was never a “join a group” or “talk about it” kind of person so I’m not sure why I did, but it was local to me, so I gave it a try. For information, it was “ The Healing Journey” at Paul’s Cancer Support Group in Battersea. At first it was a nightmare come true, all sat in a semi-circle and asked to talk about things (if we wanted to). Initially I didn’t take part, but the ladies running the group were experienced and compassionate and I soon realised that the more I took part in the (structured) discussions, the more I got out of it. I quickly made friends with more than a few of the participants and these friendships have survived to this day (10 years and counting) and are less and less about cancer and more and more about just being friends, which I am very proud of. This group of friends all know what going through cancer is like, even if the journey has been different for all of us. I found this very helpful, because obviously my non-affected friends could not understand (and I would not want them to). I worried that I turned into a nasty friend at the time, when a friend of mine was telling me about her visit to the dentist, I was thinking “I just don’t care about this, why do you think I want to hear about it?”. But then you want your friends to talk about normal stuff, and then you don’t. Most of the time I had no idea what I wanted or needed, and the weekly support group gave a structure to the week, with the odd bit of homework to think about and focus on.

2. I found just having a small thing to look forward to at the end of the working day was helpful. I had 3 months off work and was “strongly encouraged” to go back to work before I was ready (for instance I couldn’t bend down or stand for long and my commute and job were quite physical). I hated being at work. But what helped for me was planting some vegetable seeds at home, then when I got home, I pottered in the garden with small tasks and was able to look forward to this time in the day. For other people, it may be meeting a friend, or sewing, drawing or cooking. I would suggest anything other than watching TV, i.e. anything that takes a bit of focus and something practical.

3. I find writing about things helped to focus my mind and order my thoughts. Not while going through treatment, but afterwards. I knew at the time that once my treatment was over I would struggle mentally. It was as if my mind had boxed away all feelings to deal with later. It was a very definite feeling. Keeping a vague journal/weekly update helped to “file” the experiences and create a narrative which I still continue as a blog (Life after Cancer tips). It’s for me rather than anyone else, but if it helps other people, then I’m grateful.

4. In a similar vein to the above, I decided I would be open about my experiences to raise awareness of symptoms. If I had known that having night sweats was a sign of cancer, I may have mentioned it earlier to my doctor. I also had other symptoms that were troubling but my doctors put down to my age (39? Is that “an age?”) and the fact I had polycystic ovaries. I had abnormally long, heavy periods and a clear discharge for approximately a year, then as I was being tested prior to starting IVF treatment, the doctors “found something” during a routine scan. By giving talks to doctors, nurses and other patients, I was able to share my experiences and feel that something positive could come out of them. I know this is not something everyone would feel like doing, but plenty of my fellow sufferers have been proud to do such things. Try it, you may surprise yourself. Sharing experiences on blogs like these is a good way to do it anonymously if you prefer.

5. I sat down and really thought about what I would like to do in my life. I decided the thing I really wanted to see was baby turtles hatching from a nest. I planned a trip to Sri Lanka with my husband to do just that. In the past, I would never have considered such an exotic (and expensive) holiday but I loved EVERY second of it. I didn’t see turtles hatching that time, but I saw a turtle laying eggs and also leopards, elephants and all kinds of exotic things, smelled frangipani flowers for the first time, ate fantastic spicy food, learned about Buddhism and just had a whale of a time. I still wanted to see turtles hatching so later planned trips to Mexico, Turkey and St. Lucia with my mum. We did see them in the end, cried because it was so fantastic, and also had great holidays and experiences together. I’m not saying that it’s necessary to spend money to do what you want, but have a think about what would really make you happy. Actually, for my mum and I, it’s just spending time together and sharing a bottle of wine. Wildlife is a bonus. But tailor your thinking to you circumstances.

6. I joined a local community garden group to meet people who knew nothing about me and just to bring a bit of meaning to my weekends. I made some great friends and as a bonus we have created a beautiful garden for wildlife in a neglected part of Wandsworth. Anyone can visit and I get great pleasure from seeing people and their children/pets/other wildlife living in the space we created. As a bonus, I take photos and wrote a monthly newsletter and that increased my determination to improve my wildlife photography, so later took a local photography course.

7. Having had cancer has made me a stronger person but a person more open to new experiences and more open generally. I tell people about my experiences. This was something I couldn’t do at first. I couldn’t mention “womb cancer” without crying. But the first time I did it without crying felt like a step forward. Something that someone told me that I remember on a bad day is “you’re probably tired”, and that is often true. Be kind to yourself, accept it’s not the best day. Healing isn’t a straight line of “improvements”, you have good and bad days, ups and downs. Just like life.

I want to thank Kaz for her hard work in raising awareness and support for other ladies like me. There is so much to do, but by helping each other we will get there.

My story of womb cancer by J.C

2/8/2019

April 15th 2019, I attended my routine smear test, I had no symptoms present. The smear test was unusually painful and I bled afterwards and continued to bleed daily, albeit slightly, I thought to myself that maybe the test had triggered a menstrual bleed; god knows what I was thinking because I'm 54 and not bled for 3 years!!. Anyways my results came back normal, phew! I thought it sensible to book a doctor's appointment to get this bleed checked out .
Begining of May, I was fastracked to gynaecology for an ultrasound which did show abnormal thickness 28mm in 3 areas, I was then scheduled for biopsy by general anesthesia on 23rd May.

I was really looking forward to my family holiday in Turkey on 1st June and hoping my results would be back before but was advised it could take up to 2 weeks!! I had to make a decision to stay or go if the results were not ready.
Well after thinking it over I decided whatever the result, I will deal with it if need be whilst sunning it in Turkey so off we went and to be honest I still enjoyed my time and it shifted my focus. At the begining of my second week my Consultant rang me and asked if I had someone with me, at this point I knew it wasn't the news I was hoping for but it was the news I was expecting, He very calmly explained I had womb cancer and for me to continue my holiday and he would arrange an appointment with him when I returned.
My poor family were more upset than I was, I never really cried and felt surprisingly calm, maybe a protective response but I began to think logically,"I will be ok","it's a process I have to go through" "I will take everyday as it comes" and try not to "overthink". I said to everyone, wipe you faces we have our table booked and we will have a good night, And it was!!🥂After all, I finally had my long awaited answer and the ball was now rolling.

I returned home on June 15th but I was surprised that my operation date was not until July 15th - 4 very long weeks later, what a drag I just wanted this out of me pronto! So I kept myself busy doing my office job and staying positive doing meditation🧘, breath work, reading and Reiki which have been part of my everyday life for 20+ years and I really believe this has helped me through all of this along with my amazing supporting family and friends. I feel we are all even closer than ever #blessings

The operation went well and it looks like the cancer was well contained, I had my womb, ovaries and cervix removed, I was not in too much discomfort, and I went home the following day. The first few days I was uncomfortable with wind pain and tenderness but after the 4th day I started to feel pretty good, with no complications.
I am now 14 days post op and feeling more energetic daily. I will have my final appointment on 7th August to find out the hystology report and fingers crossed no further treatment will be necessary.
I feel really lucky, although changed in some way, I have always been a bit of a procrastinator but now I feel sure my bucket list will have lots of ticks on it

10th day post op, a gentle walk on the beach as the sun set 💜