My bittersweet Mother's Day...

I have decided to share with you what would have been my first ever blog post on Dear Melanoma… but I chickened out! Here it is a year and one day on!

Tomorrow we celebrate Mother’s Day, a day that has always been low-key in my family home, but still a day that never goes without some kind of token to celebrate or treat my mum. I want to write about some of my own feelings that have been with me for some months now. Feelings that I have not openly shared.

I have always thought that I was born to be a mum. When I was at school, especially in high school, I was asked what I wanted to be when I grow up; I never really had an answer. Most of my peers would list endless careers, but I couldn’t. I just knew I wanted to be a mum. My career would simply have to fit around me being a mum.

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. 

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.

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.

What is next for Dear Melanoma? Planning for the immediate future...

Here we are again – I find myself sitting in the radiology department at the PA hospital hungry, having fasted all day, and drinking contrast disguised as ‘delicious’ (a very big hint of sarcasm) lemon cordial, all of this for a 10 minute CT scan. A scan that will hopefully tell us that treatment is still working and those little suckers of tumours riddling my body are shrinking.

It looks like the hospital is running behind and I may be sitting here awhile, so what better way to spend my time than writing a blog.

This scan could very well decide my future. Unlike previous treatments, I am feeling very unfazed and not stressed. So, I am not going to write a blog fearing the future and its uncertainty, instead I am going to write about what is next in the world of Emma and Dear Melanoma.

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.

Through the Looking Glass - the beginning of a very impressive raffle/auction list...

Oh my giddy aunt, we only have 4 weeks to dust off our dancing shoes and find a frock for Through the Looking Glass! For those of you that may have been living under a rock, I am hosting a fundraiser, a cocktail event in Brisbane, to raise money for Melanoma Institute Australia.

Since being diagnosed with Stage 4 melanoma, I have dedicated the time I have left to raising awareness of melanoma, but also raising much needed money for research. Selfishly, I want options. I want to know that once this treatment stops working that I can jump to another clinical trial. This is why I want to raise money for research.

I have been overwhelmed by the support that has been shown for the event. Tonight I want to share with you all the amazing raffle prizes/auction items that have kindly been donated to Through the Looking Glass. I hope this makes you even more excited about the event!