The 13th of October 2001 was a Saturday.

I remember thinking, 'It can't be good news if I'm being called in to a clinic appointment on a Saturday.'

It wasn't.

Mrs Belinda Scott was a well-known breast surgeon and I had seen her a few days prior. I'd found a lump which had been dismissed by a local radiology clinic as 'something' and I wasn't at all happy with 'something' so made an appointment to see Belinda at her clinical practice, Breast Associates, which is still helping women today. Sadly, Mrs Scott passed away in 2021, a huge loss to all of us.   

Sure enough, the 'something' turned out to be a very real tumour. I was booked in for surgery very quickly, followed later on by chemotherapy, and adjuvant treatments for several years after that.

24 years seems like a long time, but then on an anniversary day like this, it doesn't. I remember the day so clearly, what I did, how I reacted, the friends who looked after me and my Mom who waited up for me to get home late that night, saying, 'We'll get through this together.'

And we did. 

The diagnosis was like a slow-burning stun grenade. I went around for 'days' literally in a 'daze', doing what I had to do, showing up where I needed to be, having surgery, delighted to see visitors coming to my hospital room, then going through a gruelling couple of weeks of scans and tests to see if the cancer had spread anywhere else.

I kept a daily journal about it all,  which became my book Welcome to the Amazon Club,  and these days I encourage women to write about their experiences, because it helps, lending a sense of control that is often badly needed, and an ability to process what is happening.

I also cannot say enough about the value of being around people who have 'been there too'. I first met volunteers from this organisation, Breast Cancer Support Aotearoa, right before I was to start chemo, when I was literally scared out of my brain by the prospect  as, let's face it, chemo has a bit of a reputation. 

The women I spoke to were not family, friends, or colleagues, they were volunteers who wanted to share their experiences with me and so make my path a little smoother and less scary. Practical advice and tips, objectively given, honest sharing of what I might expect and how I could handle it, right down to where to park and what to avoid on the hospital lunch trolley. 

24 years ago I didn't know I would live this long. I never would have imagined myself as a drummer, a writer, a teacher, a peer support person, nor would I have ever thought my first published book would describe the insight we acquire after a face to face howdy-do with our own mortality, one we get whether we like it or not. 

I'm often asked what got me through all of that.  I've heard enough 'think positives' to last me for however many years I have left, and prefer to pass on a message that comes from the days when I was learning to drive an 18-wheeler truck from Atlanta Ga. to Montgomery Al.

That was a lifetime ago, but the guy teaching me used to say, 'You just have to truck on, keep the pedal to the metal, keep your eyes on the road ahead because you can't see anything in the rear vision mirror anyway cos that big ole' trailer be blocking your sight.' 

From guest Blogger Jane Bissell