Experiences

Bronwen

When I read about Sarah and the launch of Ovacome at the beginning of September, I decided that I would very much like to take part in the bike ride, because it is 8 years since my diagnosis of ovarian cancer. It was only when we were crossing Richmond Park and enjoying the glorious weather and scenery, that it occurred to me that it was exactly 8 years to the day since I had my operation.

I feel incredibly lucky that my cancer was detected in its early stages, and almost by chance, when I was 46. It was a very bad backache that took me to my GP in April 1988, who examined me and said I had fibroids, and recommended that I should see the consultant, who confirmed the diagnosis. He suggested leaving them alone for 6 months, but after an ultrasound scan showed up an ovarian cyst, said it should be removed , along with my womb. I was spared the knowledge that the cyst was malignant until after it was removed. I remember only too well the shock I felt when the news was broken to me, and the altered way I viewed this body of mine that I had always looked on as a friend, not an enemy. All cancer patients must experience this change in self image, but it is by overcoming this, that we become stronger.. For me, such was the optimism of my consultants and the unquestioning belief in my recovery of my husband and children, that I felt nurtured by a mass of positive support. I already knew about BACUP and found their information, and their contribution to making cancer a non-taboo subject, valuable. I had a 6 month course of chemotherapy to improve the 70% chance of survival I was given, then went back to work.

Physically I recovered quite quickly, but my powers of concentration have taken a knock. Like many other people, I have found the experience of having cancer, though frightening, to have its positive side. Having been on wards with much sicker and very courageous people, I am amazed at the strength people find to cope. I am filled with gratitude for the care offered to me by the medical profession. I am more able to deal with other people's anxieties and problems than before. I don't take good health for granted and value everything about my life more - particularly family and friends.

Having 2 daughters, my hope is that screening will be developed to make early detection for more people easier in the future. Groups like Ovacome are important for their campaigning as well as the comfort they provide to sufferers in knowing they are not alone

Bronwen Vinson, London

Hair today...

All my life my hair has been a problem - dead straight, extremely thick, coarse in texture and with a double crown. It has resisted most stylists' attempts to cut it into a fashionable style and would never grow into the long, sultry cascades I craved as a teenager. My hair would grow - but it grew outwards, thick and strong, until I resembled an upended mobile mop. I once tried to bleach it, imagining platinum locks would add a little distinction to my appearance. Alas, it simply turned a strange marmaladey colour.

It has caused problems to would-be permers, too. Being quite porous, it often frizzed and developed dry ends; and it has a mind of its own, resisting being wound around curlers - one tress will often escape the bondage before the next curl is wound! At least its' colour was quite pleasant, (a mousy brown tending towards chestnut highlights), until my mid-forties when it started to go grey, in typical maverick fashion, with a white blaze to one side and the rest rather piebald.

Now that I am three weeks into my second lot of chemotherapy and about to lose my hair at any minute, it has suddenly become very precious to me and the thought of losing it is devastating, like the prospect of losing an old and very dear friend. Even the knowledge that I have a pretty wig and two turbans waiting for me upstairs is no consolation. I'm almost scared to wash or brush it in case it comes away in handfuls. To me it is a worse psychological blow than being told I had cancer in the first place.

So a 'bad hair day' is rapidly becoming a 'no hair season'. Yet I am optimistic. I have watched several friends at my support group go through this and I know their undetectable wigs have made them look good and feel confident. Other ladies further along the line have grown lovely new hair, often a different colour and texture from before, and within just a few weeks of stopping their treatment.

So I live in hope that my experience will be the same and that in the New Year I will have a crop of soft, white curls which will give me the neat and distinctive hairstyle I have always craved. It might even be manageable, too!

Sandra Jones, Sutton Coldfield

Wigs

For general information or advice on wigs write to;

Rachel Cardy
Jane Scarth House
39 The Hundred
Ransey
Hants SO51 8GE

Tel 01794 517374

Rachel makes wigs and has experience in working with cancer patients.

Drawing of a bald lady
Caption "Pearl Mackie (aged 8) To cheer up her mother, Sarah Jones London"

Margaret

It was in June 1993 that I was diagnosed as having ovarian cancer. I had not been well for a couple of weeks, my stomach felt bloated and I felt vaguely sick, especially at night. "Gastric problems! I'll give you some tablets." announced a locum GP after a short examination.. The problem got worse, my abdomen became more swollen and I felt breathless when I tried to do anything. A few days later we called in the emergency doctor. "That's not gastric," he said. "Hospital now!"

Over the next few days tests of all kinds were carried out, and eventually 8 litres of fluid drained away. The doctor told me I had an ovarian cyst which would need to be removed. More tests revealed that it was malignant and two weeks later it was removed.

Before the operation I was told the surgeon would do a hysterectomy and remove everything. When I came round they had only removed one ovary, but no reason was given. I was grateful as we were moving house to Kent in 6 weeks and I felt the smaller operation would give me chance to recover more quickly. I began chemotherapy tablets the day I was discharged and was told to get in touch with a GP as soon as we moved. As a committed Christian i was not afraid of the future and was sure that my health was in God's hands.

Two weeks after we moved I had my first visit to an oncologist at Canterbury hospital. He explained that he was a cancer specialist, whereas my previous doctor was a gynaecologist. He recommended a six month course of chemotherapy, one injection each month and then more tests. He questioned me closely about my operation and we finally concluded that a hysterectomy had been impossible because of the position of the tumour. This was a far more serious situation than I had realised, but God was still in control.

For the next 6 months I felt as if I was leading a double life. Most of the time I was a Minister's wife, a mum and a grandma, but once a month I was a cancer patient, surrounded by other patients, doctors and nurses, a different atmosphere altogether. The hospital day was never easy, although the staff were marvellous. They offered counselling, relaxation, aromatherapy and any other help you could want.

When the MRI scan was done at the end of the treatment all appeared to be fine and I was asked to return for checkups every 3 months. However, 6 months later I began to bleed and further tests revealed 'something'. I began 22 daily treatments of radiotherapy, followed by yet another 6 month course of chemo. This time I lost my hair, much to the amusement of my 7 year old foster son. "Don't forget your hair" he reminded me every time we were about to go out. I celebrated my final hospital visit by travelling 300 miles to the north of England to my son's wedding immediately after my 8 hour chemo.

My next checkup brought more surprises. The scans showed that technically it was possible to carry out the original intention of a total hysterectomy. " Was I prepared to transfer to another hospital and another surgeon who was very experienced in such matters?"

Nov 1995 saw me back in hospital for the promised hysterectomy plus what the surgeon called a 'complete pelvic clearance'. The operation went well and a couple of days later my surgeon proudly announced that all the tests were back from the lab and no cancer cells had been found.

Unfortunately I picked up an infection in my wound and due to the weakened state of my body it was several months before my abdomen completely healed.

I'm really looking forward to Christmas this year. It's always a special time for our family but this year for the first time in 3 years I won't be having treatment and I'm really beginning to feel 'normal' again. At the beginning of my illness I felt that God was going to bring me through and that faith helped so much when things were hard.

My hope now is that I can bring some comfort and encouragement to others who find themselves following the same path.

Margaret Fisher, 36
Baddlesmere Road, Tankerton, Whitstable, Kent CT5 2LD
Tel 01227 772891