The Big C
**Content Warning: cancer, surgery**
This story is based on social media posts I made in July 2020.
Wiggle your big toe.
That was my first lucid thought as I came round from my anaesthesia in ICU. My brain latched on to Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, willing herself back to movement, starting with the smallest step.
I’d been unwell since the end of March, and having been scanned and monitored, it was decided I needed surgery to remove two very, very large and possibly malignant ovarian cysts. I got that surgery at the beginning of July, but it turned out the cysts weren’t the primary problem — the tumour in my bowel was.
My awesome gynae surgeon spotted that something wasn’t right and called on an equally stellar colorectal surgeon, who found the primary cancer. Together they removed the bowel tumour, the ovarian tumours, and pretty much anything else in my abdomen I don’t actively need, so uterus, ovaries, omentum, peritoneum, fallopian tubes, cervix, all gone. And so is all of the visible cancer — a chest scan showed my lungs were clear, and my surgeons couldn’t see any metastases on my liver. I’ve been very fortunate.
The op also left me with a stoma (ileostomy) as a section of my bowel was removed and my body was too depleted to heal from re-joining the ends of the section. My colorectal surgeon says she will be able to reverse it at some point, but before that, I am having a course of chemo to zap any stray microscopic cells left behind. My surgeons are very optimistic about my chances for complete recovery (although my oncologist is a little more cautious — I guess it goes with the territory).
I’ve been getting brilliant care from various NHS teams at New Cross Hospital, Russells Hall Hospital, and Lion Health GP surgery. At the time of writing, I am halfway through 12 cycles of chemotherapy (Folfox), which hasn’t been easy, but is manageable with meds to control side effects and a ton of help and support from my wonderful family and lovely friends. A blood test early on in my treatment revealed that the markers for bowel cancer had dropped from around 15 post-surgery to 5.9 — anything below 5 is considered ‘normal’, so although this is not conclusive evidence that my cancer is gone, it’s a promising start.
It’s been a tough road to recover from surgery and get this far, and there’s more still to come, but I know I’m tougher than it is.
I have much to be grateful for.
