The Care Package...

So Dear Melanoma Facebook Page went off last night. I felt like I was back to the evening when we had a mighty fine conversation about the stupid things people like to tell someone who has cancer – what a hilarious night it was! Last night I asked the Dear Melanoma community what they think should be in a ‘care package’ for people with cancer.

How did this come about? Well, as many of you know I work one day a week at a fab little gift shop in Brisbane. I often have people come in to work and ask for advice on what to give a friend that is sick and I normally just point them in the right direction and make some suggestions – I often will not tell them my personal situation. However, on Monday a lady came in and asked for help – she wanted to put a care package together for a friend who was about to start chemo. She was at a complete loss of how to support her friend and this was the perfect thing to show her love and support.

My healing pup...

Crazy dog lady here! Today is our beautiful Ralph’s 1^st birthday and what better way to celebrate than to write a little blog post about what joy and love he has brought to our life – especially mine.

I am going to be honest – I am not a dog person, I never have been and probably never will be. I am a Ralph person. The desire to introduce a little pup to our life was definitely a shock. I did not ever anticipate that I would so badly want a puppy. Nor did I anticipate that I would have my armour and sword drawn ready to battle our landlords (my parents) and future body corporates during the hunt to buy our own place.

So what was it over a year ago that made me start the hunt for a puppy and, in turn, convince Serge that we NEEDED a puppy?

Birthday tears...

For those of you that follow the Dear Melanoma Facebook Page and Instagram page, you would know that a few weeks ago it was my birthday. I was very much looking forward to the day/week and was excited (like the 23 birthdays prior), but instead I was gifted with an emotional break down.

My break down was not because I didn’t get lots of love from my family and friends. It wasn’t because certain family members or friends could not be there to celebrate.

Instead, it was 100% my fault – I put too much pressure on this celebration. I put too much pressure on making memories. I put too much pressure on making sure that this birthday was worthy of being potentially my last.

The battle of words...

For those of you that follow the Dear Melanoma Facebook Page, you would know that I do not like using the terms ‘fighter’ and ‘warrior’ when referring to my journey with melanoma and terminal cancer, nor will you ever hear me refer to another person using these terms. This is purely personal, as I know many gain strength from such terms.

A few days ago, I was discussing this with a friend and it prompted me to write a blog about why I do not find strength in these words, but instead frustration. I am not asking people to stop using these terms, but it is important for people following my blog to understand why I may hesitate to be part of awareness activities or conversations that use these labels.

However, most importantly, I want people to leave this blog understanding that everyone’s journey is different. Everyone responds to their diagnosis, or their loved ones diagnosis, in different ways. Everyone has a different way of coping. 

Oh, what a night…

The title of this blog may lead you to think that I am writing an entire 1000 word essay on my ability to sing along to every word of the Four Seasons song, ‘Oh, what a night’… you are wrong!

Instead, I am finally filling you all in on the amazing success of ‘Through the Looking Glass’, which happened over a month ago now.

Since the event, I have been gallivanting around Hawaii, but also contacting all those involved in the event thanking them (still working on this one… sooo many people!) and finalising the fundraising total.

Just Emma...

As many of my friends head back to university this week, I reflect on life before cancer. A life where I was just Emma, not Emma with cancer.

The other night I had a little cry to Serge. I was upset because I felt that there are people in our life that know only one side of me – the side that has dominated the last 18 months of life.

I forget what it is like to have people ask what I studied, where I worked, what my career aspirations were. Yes, all these I speak of in the past tense because the reality is that, unless a miracle occurs, these are indeed memories and dreams that were pre-cancer.

The year that was...

I thought I would get in early and reflect on the year, and what a year it has been!

As I always say, most people would consider that my year has been the epitome of shitty, but gosh there was a lot of joy shoved in there.

It was January 6 when we found out that my treatment was not working and the cancer had spread to most of my major organs. And it was on this date that I asked my doctor how long I had to live, and the response was only months. We were told to go and do what we had to do and to live… you know its not good when your doctor gives you that kind of freedom!

With this news, we entered 2014 with the need to make memories.

Thank you for 6 months of support and love...

Last night I was so excited to see that the Dear Melanoma facebook page reached 2000 likes. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank everyone that has followed my journey.

Earlier this year I was going back and forth about whether I wanted to document my life with melanoma. I knew that my friends and family would read it, but never did I expect that I would be opening my life to be scrutinised in the best possible way by the public. Over 65 000 people have read my blog – wow! People know my face and my story and are not afraid to stop me when I am out and about. I knew that if I was to do this, I wanted to write a blog that was 100% honest. This meant that there would be hours spent in front of my laptop with tears running down my face documenting some of my saddest moments and some of my biggest fears I have about dying.

When photos take on a new meaning...

Yesterday Serge, Ralph and I went and had photos with the lovely Tanya, from Tanya Love Photography. Tanya was our wedding photographer and has been an important part of our journey the last year and a bit.

I have been planning for a few weeks now for us to have some photos taken – I wanted to capture some moments with Ralph when he is still a scrumptious little puppy. However, I only told Serge about the photo shoot a few days before. When I told Serge about the photos, he looked at me with disgust. He didn’t really feel like taking his Saturday afternoon to go and have photos, but I gently reminded Serge about the importance of photos.

Hope in death...

In January, I was sitting down with a palliative care team discussing how I wanted to die. I did not ask about what I could expect. I didn’t ask about the pain I would feel. I did not ask about how I will lose my independence. I already knew what to expect from my last months or weeks of my life.

Instead, I told the palliative care team what I wanted. I told them how I wanted to die. I wanted to die in my family home. I did not want to spend my last days in a hospital. I wanted to die in the bed I share with my husband. I did not want to be forced into a single hospital bed away from my husband.

I know that my last weeks aren’t going to be nice and I am either going to be in pain or out to it on painkillers, but all I can wish for is an ounce of control. Control that cancer would slowly take away from me.

15 things NOT to say to someone with cancer

Over the last 12 months my personal Facebook has gone off. I feel like I am the new cool kid on the block. I have had an influx of friend requests from people that I have not seen for 20 years (take note that I am only 23!). Friend requests from friends of friends. Friend requests from my sister’s friend’s sister. And friend requests from complete strangers. I apologise now for deleting 90% of these requests.

As you can guess, I haven’t been short of people offering love and support to me over the last 12 months. I have the most amazing family and friends who have been with me every moment of the journey. But unfortunately, I have lost some friends along the way and shed many tears over what some people consider being supportive.