365 DAYS SINCE THE SHAVE

Today marks one year since I shaved my head! My cancer diagnosis startled everyone in my life, including myself. One of the first questions I asked my oncologist was if I would need chemotherapy. I was concerned that I would lose all my hair. I received a definitive yes in response. One of the most common associations with cancer and chemotherapy is hair loss. Knowing that I was going to lose my hair broke my twenty-two-year-old heart! I think that's why I was so frightened to loose mine. The thought of being so easily associated with the illness, and being the face of cancer to so many people was terrifying.

The cancer treatment would compromise my life, my health, my fertility and SO much more, but there I was crying about losing my hair. Like many other cancer patients, losing my hair seemed like a big deal at the time.

Following my first cycle of chemo, I remember being admitted to hospital with all my hair, to leave 28 days later with very little. As time continued, the treatments began to take a toll on my body. I lost hair every day, whether it was in the shower coming out in handfuls or waking up with it all over my pillow. My hair was very very thin and all I was left with was acting as a cancer disguise, something I struggled to let go of. On the 22nd April 2018, I decided it was time to get rid of it all and take back the control cancer had taken away from me. That day was full of so much love and laughter, it couldn't have been a more memorable occasion.

At the beginning, it was difficult to recognise the stranger in the mirror, but over time it got easier and I started noticing a stronger, more courageous person staring back at me. I loved that I didn't have to shave my legs, but I hated that I lost my eyebrows and eyelashes. I would spend time every morning patiently drawing on my eyebrows and applying thick coats of mascara to my remaining five or six eyelashes. It didn't look great, but it was my attempt to look normal.

I can now confidently say that it was one of the toughest experiences I've ever had to go through and at the time I was so focused on it as an insecurity that it never left my mind. But looking back at photos taken during treatment I'm like WOW, I am so incredibly proud of that girl! I learned many things when I shaved my head, but perhaps the best life lesson I learned is that hair is just that: hair. It doesn’t define me, instead, it forced me to truly embrace it. It's something that reminds me of all the things I've lived through to get me to where I am today.

HAPPY CANCERVERSARY TO ME

Today is my one year cancerversary!! Unless you've personally experienced a cancer journey you can't truly understand what this day means to me. So many ups and downs. So many twists and turns. So many tears. So many victories celebrated. So many times I wavered. Would I make it? Would I get to live the life I always dreamed of? Would my hair REALLY grow back? Would I ever feel normal again? One year later, I did make it! I am living my best life, yes my hair is growing back and I'm considered fairly normal.

Most people consider the day they finish treatment as their cancerversary date. However, I look at it differently. Mine started the day I had my cancer diagnosis. The dread I had for this time of year coming around again seems to have surprised me. I remember recalling detail by detail how I first went into hospital, what exact time I was diagnosed, when my first session of chemo started. Amongst my family and friends there were many conversations starting with "This time last year we were...", but yet there were no tears, no breakdowns and no terrifying nightmares of reliving everything that had happened just a mere year ago. It's as if this whole experience has been a dream, and now I've woken up and can see it all clearly for what it was - just a little blip in the grand scheme of life.

2018 was like a never-ending rollercoaster ride and although my journey is far from over, I can only be grateful for all the beautiful moments I've been lucky enough to experience. I was able to learn a lot about myself, spend time with my family, somehow find myself again when things seemed almost hopeless and met people that have changed my life. I can only speak for myself in saying that as heartbreaking as the year was, I can only be grateful for what I've gained - strength I never knew I had, love and support one could only dream of and the revelation of how precious life really is.

The best things truly happen when we least expect it and everything that does, happens for a reason - the only thing we can do is embrace it! If I can still be here a year later, alive, breathing and happy then that has got to count for something, right?

So this year is the first of many celebrations.

I celebrate that I survived the fear and uncertainty cancer brings and the surgeries, chemo and medications that followed.

I celebrate all the amazing people that I have met in this club that nobody asks to join.

And finally, I celebrate that I got the chance to live.

CANCER: THE MOUNTAIN LION IN MY FRIDGE

There is a mountain lion in my fridge

Author: Caitlin Feeley

What’s it like to go through cancer treatment? It’s something like this: one day, you’re minding your own business, you open the fridge to get some breakfast, and OH MY GOD THERE’S A MOUNTAIN LION IN YOUR FRIDGE.

Wait, what? How? Why is there a mountain lion in your fridge? NO TIME TO EXPLAIN. RUN! THE MOUNTAIN LION WILL KILL YOU! UNLESS YOU FIND SOMETHING EVEN MORE FEROCIOUS TO KILL IT FIRST!

So you take off running, and the mountain lion is right behind you. You know the only thing that can kill a mountain lion is a bear, and the only bear is on top of the mountain, so you better find that bear. You start running up the mountain in hopes of finding the bear. Your friends desperately want to help, but they are powerless against mountain lions, as mountain lions are godless killing machines. But they really want to help, so they’re cheering you on and bringing you paper cups of water and orange slices as you run up the mountain and yelling at the mountain lion - “GET LOST, MOUNTAIN LION, NO ONE LIKES YOU” - and you really appreciate the support, but the mountain lion is still coming.

Also, for some reason, there’s someone in the crowd who’s yelling “that’s not really a mountain lion, it’s a puma” and another person yelling “I read that mountain lions are allergic to kale, have you tried rubbing kale on it?”

As you’re running up the mountain, you see other people fleeing their own mountain lions. Some of the mountain lions seem comparatively wimpy - they’re half grown and only have three legs or whatever, and you think to yourself - why couldn’t I have gotten one of those mountain lions? But then you look over at the people who are fleeing mountain lions the size of a monster truck with huge prehistoric saber fangs, and you feel like an asshole for even thinking that - and besides, who in their right mind would want to fight a mountain lion, even a three-legged one?

Finally, the person closest to you, whose job it is to take care of you - maybe a parent or sibling or best friend or, in my case, my husband - comes barging out of the woods and jumps on the mountain lion, whaling on it and screaming “GODDAMMIT MOUNTAIN LION, STOP TRYING TO EAT MY WIFE,” and the mountain lion punches your husband right in the face. Now your husband (or whatever) is rolling around on the ground clutching his nose, and he’s bought you some time, but you still need to get to the top of the mountain.

Eventually you reach the top, finally, and the bear is there. Waiting. For both of you. You rush right up to the bear, and the bear rushes the mountain lion, but the bear has to go through you to get to the mountain lion, and in doing so, the bear TOTALLY KICKS YOUR ASS, but not before it also punches your husband in the face. And your husband is now staggering around with a black eye and bloody nose, and saying “can I get some help, I’ve been punched in the face by two apex predators and I think my nose is broken,” and all you can say is “I’M KIND OF BUSY IN CASE YOU HADN’T NOTICED I’M FIGHTING A MOUNTAIN LION.”

Then, IF YOU ARE LUCKY, the bear leaps on the mountain lion and they are locked in epic battle until finally the two of them roll off a cliff edge together, and the mountain lion is dead.

Maybe. You’re not sure - it fell off the cliff, but mountain lions are crafty. It could come back at any moment.

And all your friends come running up to you and say “that was amazing! You’re so brave, we’re so proud of you! You didn’t die! That must be a huge relief!”

Meanwhile, you blew out both your knees, you’re having an asthma attack, you twisted your ankle, and also you have been mauled by a bear. And everyone says “boy, you must be excited to walk down the mountain!” And all you can think as you stagger to your feet is “f*&k this mountain, I never wanted to climb it in the first place.”

After reading this I thought I would add my sequel to the mountain lion...

So you've beaten the mountain lion. After spending almost a year running up mountains you are totally knackered. But everyday you have to open the fridge. For a while you expect the lion to be there, but it's not. Eventually you begin opening the fridge with no fear. Some times you even forget that there was ever a lion in there. Some days you even forget about what the bear did to you.

Three months after my mountain lion I still open the fridge with great caution. Of course I'm scared that the lion will return, but everyday you have to open the fridge. You're forced to face your greatest fear everyday. Imagine that? How exhausting to live in a state of perpetual uncertainty and fear. As it's such an intimidating way to live, most people who have been faced with a mountain lion find that they do their very best to make the most of every single day. Many survivors find comfort in providing support and advice to others who are still frantically running up the mountain.

Being a lion fighting and mountain climbing person, can be pretty dismal for those around you. They’ve never found a lion in their fridge. Will they ever be faced with a mountain climb? At the beginning they are curious, they are cheering at the side lines. Before there is a breakthrough in the chase, they give up. It's only those who are closest to you that turn up and offer a helping hand.

Most recently I opened the fridge and whilst there was no lion, there is unavoidable anxiety looming as I approach my next lion check. Lion experts are due to look around in the next few weeks. Fingers crossed there are no lions, or even any footprints traceable in the butter tray.

So, I never wanted to climb the mountain. Not once. Not at all. But I have and I am proud to be standing at the top.

Those who have never found a lion in their fridge won't get it.

But those who have will.