Anne C’s story

I was beginning to feel well again after nine months of treatment for breast cancer. Most of the side effects of treatment had settled and I was building a new life, in the tropics.

My bowels had been affected by the chemotherapy, as I had been told they would. But instead of improving with time, they seemed to be getting worse. I wondered if it was anxiety. Moving house, starting a new job, making new friends. Menopause. I had always had an irritable bowel. My ability to sleep hadn’t returned yet either.

My grandfather and mother had bowel cancer in their 60’s and this niggled away at me sometimes. I made a couple of half-hearted attempts to get a colonoscopy but never followed through and no one chased me. It all seemed a bit much with everything else going on. I had already had my cancer I told myself. Surely, I couldn’t be that unlucky….

Finally I made an appointment with a GP to discuss my bowel symptoms (urgency and diarrhoea). I thought I might have coeliac disease. I was dreading giving up bread. My GP arranged all the appropriate tests including a colonoscopy.

I was told I had a large complex polyp that needed a special endoscopic procedure to remove. This filled me with fear. I am a doctor myself and I knew what this could mean. I looked at the colonoscopy pictures and thought the polyp looked irregular and nasty. There was a bit of a wait for the procedure and the results. Waiting is hard. Then I got the phone call. It turned out that there was high grade aggressive cancer within the polyp. It was 0.2mm from the resection margin and so I needed major surgery.

I was back on the cancer treadmill again. Blood tests, scans, scary stuff. It triggered a lot of memories from my breast cancer journey and sent me to some dark places.

The news seemed to keep getting worse. My cancer was low down in my rectum, and I needed a (temporary) ileostomy. I was back on the cancer train, and it was steaming off into the distance.
I went back to the city where I used to live. I was lucky that I had dear friends who had supported me through my first cancer journey. I needed them with me now. I was terrified of needing chemo again. The fear can really consume you. I cycled between sheer disbelief, sadness, terror and anger.

With the help of AI I started making cartoons to express my feelings. Sometimes words are not enough. This was great therapy. I tried to put a humorous slant on things. ‘You are going to need big undies for this’ I told myself.

I looked online for support groups, for solidarity, for lived experience. This kind of support is so vital when you are living with cancer. I was amazed at how much I could do with my ileostomy. I was nervous about flying home, but I soon got back to yoga and Pilates, I swam and I went back to work. I met with the local support group. You are never alone. Kind people are everywhere.

After three months I had my ileostomy reversed. The first month was very difficult. You have to retrain your bowel. It’s painful and messy. There are definitely worse things than having an ileostomy. I called it ‘baby colon in training.’ Complete with nappy rash cream and nappies.

Every month things get a bit better. I am lucky that my cancer had not spread and so I didn’t need chemo or radiotherapy this time. I try not to let cancer define me, yet I need to honour living under its shadow. Sitting with difficult emotions and waiting for them to pass is a big part of the journey.

My one piece of advice for others

Finding people who understand is so crucial to wellbeing. I have found talking about what happens to you, what you experience, is so crucial to guarding against the loneliness that cancer can bring. Being able to express difficult emotions as well as share tips and tricks stops anxiety overwhelming you.