Life after cancer...

A few weeks ago a story was published by The New York Times called ‘Lost in Transition After Cancer’, the author Suleika Jaouad who at age 22 was diagnosed with Leukaemia. The story was published during Young Adult Cancer Awareness Week. Suleika wrote about her life since cancer, as well as highlighting the need for ongoing support for those, especially young adults, who are transitioning from life with cancer to life after cancer.

Take the time to read the story here.

Suleika and my story are different in many ways. Suleika had leukaemia, which meant different treatment to what I am on (treatment much more physically demanding and taxing on her body) and a different prognosis – Suleika’s treatment was always meant to get her to remission. Whereas, with Stage 4 Melanoma, remission has never been the destination at the end of my treatment journey – my doctor and I hope for time.

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.

The dreaded bucket list...

One of my biggest internal struggles on my cancer journey has been with the sometimes exciting, but largely depressing, notion of a bucket list.

My choosing to have, or not to have, a bucket list would change every few weeks. But I realise now, the weeks when I was pro-bucket list I was convincing myself that ‘living in the moment’ and ‘making the most of life’ were phrases that instilled purpose and happiness in a time of uncertainty and sadness. However, when thinking about what I would write on my bucket list, I did not feel like I had purpose and I definitely did not feel happy. Instead, I felt defeated, upset, and I felt like I was dying.

For me, a bucket list was a reminder of what I could not have.