Today marks five years since I heard the words:
“You have Stage 3 melanoma – and it’s aggressive.”
I haven’t shared this, but I did what everyone tells you not to do.
I Googled it. What I found terrified me.
I never Googled it again.
I was also told I may never hear the word remission.
Game on, I thought.
And here I am. Five years later.
It feels strange to celebrate a milestone attached to something I would never have chosen.
Because these five years have been bloody hard.
Scans every three months. Daily treatment. Unplanned hospital stays. Side effects. Fatigue unlike anything I’d experienced before. Fear about what the next scan might show and learning to live with an uncertainty I couldn’t make disappear.
And plenty of highs amongst the lows.
So today brings mixed emotions.
I wish I’d never had cancer.
But when the prognosis wasn’t in my favour, reaching five years and feeling fit and healthy is something I absolutely want to celebrate.
There was one moment during these five years that I remember very clearly. I was lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to all sorts of machines, feeling pretty sick, looking out the window, when I made a decision.
I couldn’t control the diagnosis.
I couldn’t control what the scans would show.
But I could choose how I was going to lead myself through whatever came next.
And I’ve tried to do that ever since.
Not perfectly.
I’ve been scared, angry, exhausted and completely over it at times.
But I’ve also learned to advocate strongly for myself. To listen to my intuition. To ask questions. To ask for what I want. And to take responsibility for the things I can control.
And now there is another milestone on the horizon.
In April, if all continues to go well, I may finally hear the word I was told five years ago I may never hear: remission.
Even writing that feels huge.
I’m so close.
I’ve done everything in my power to give myself the best chance of hearing it.
That’s all I can do.
But there’s something else I’m celebrating today, and perhaps this is the part that means the most.
I am living a life I love.
Particularly over this past year, I’ve felt that more than ever.
That doesn’t mean everything is perfect. Cancer and treatment are still part of my life.
But I get to spend it with the people I love, enjoying the blue sky, the sunrise and sunset and the ordinary days.
And today I not only get to celebrate being here…
I get to participate in this glorious thing called life.
Ahhh, that gives me goosebumps. ♥️
Five years is a bloody long time.
And relative to a lifetime, it’s incredibly short.
And to everyone who has been part of these five years – who has supported me, checked in, cheered me on, or simply been here – thank you. It means more than you know. ♥️