My Story by L.S

Continuing on with our guest blogs for September's awareness campaign, here is another survivor's story!

I write fiction for a hobby, and it’s always said a proper story should have a beginning, a middle and an end.
My womb cancer story began in February 2010, just before my 58^th birthday, when I had a very minor post-menopausal vaginal bleed.

Being an eternal pessimist my first reaction was ‘oh no, I must have something seriously wrong’. I immediately booked an appointment with my GP and was seen very quickly, within a couple of weeks I think. All through the waiting time my mind raced back and forth between ‘it might be just an infection’ and ‘what if it’s something serious?’ I never actually used the term ‘cancer’, feeling almost as if it was a dirty word.

Well, it wasn’t an infection so I was referred to the gynae department of the local hospital. Again the appointment came quite quickly and I was still quietly hoping for a happy ending, even though my mind told me there was no such thing.

My first gynae visit was nearly my last! The doctor was unpleasant, almost brutal in her examination and the nurse wasn’t any better. Anyway, I left the clinic with as much information as I had when I went in—zilch! Except now I knew I’d have to be admitted as a day patient for a hysteroscopy, which, as it turned out after I was anaesthetised, couldn’t be performed. The gynae surgeon drew a little diagram of a closed cervix, told me that was what mine looked like and said she’d keep an eye on me and I might need an MRI scan. ‘See you in six weeks’. Goodbye.

This is the point where, had I been on the ball, I’d have started asking questions and pushing a bit, but being a naive old thing I put my trust in the medics and told myself things can’t be that bad because no-one seems to be too worried. I’d had an ultrasound scan sometime along the way but my memory is a little fuzzy these days so I can’t remember at exactly what stage in the proceedings that took place. I do remember being told there was ‘some thickening’. My lovely friends kept reassuring me that it was probably just fibroids or something of that sort, I’d probably end up having a hysterectomy and wouldn’t I feel wonderful afterwards!

A couple of months rolled by and my minor bleed turned into a permanent stringy discharge, rather like egg white. Still no word from the hospital and by now I was starting to worry again so I thought it might be an idea to chase them up, which I did. Yes, they said, there is a bit of a delay with appointments but it shouldn’t be too much longer. I did eventually get my MRI scan, then another long wait until finally …yessss! I got to see the gynae consultant for my results. Which, despite my previous pessimism, came as a terrible shock. I remember her words still. ‘I think we should do a hysterectomy…it could be cancer.’ The bottom dropped out of my world at that precise moment.

My husband was waiting outside for me. I couldn’t tell him till we got to the car park, then I repeated what the doc had said and promptly burst into tears.

There have been a lot of tears since that day.

Then my surgeon popped off on holidays and left another doctor to break the news a couple of weeks later that yes, it was cancer, and I’d need radiotherapy.

My brother lives close to the hospital that I went to for the RT—an hour each way for me. When he heard the news he invited me to go and stay with him so I wouldn’t have to travel. I remember being quite indignant at the suggestion and told him ‘I’m not going to put my life on hold for this thing.’ I didn’t either. I was lucky enough not to suffer any real side-effects so life went on almost as normal, although, looking back I know I was more short-tempered than usual. And tearful, always tearful.

I was introduced to a wonderful oncologist who suggested that I should have chemotherapy as well. The mere thought of chemo terrified me and after much discussion with my husband I decided not to take that option. I’ll never know whether or not it was the right decision because I had a recurrence in April 2011, which may or may not have happened if I’d taken the chemo route—who knows?

This time I was seen to by a wonderful team of doctors and nurses. I had a urostomy in June 2011 and got so bored in hospital I walked the corridors day and night until I was discharged, after which I carried on walking and exercising until I was properly fit! We knew chemo was the better option this time and as it turned out my terror was unfounded. Again I was quite fortunate to not suffer too many side-effects, although I did find myself getting quite tired most afternoons. And although I tried not to let fatigue get the better of me I realised in the end that I’m not superhuman, I’m the same as everyone else and sometimes I just had to give in to it.

I think my odd sense of humour and determination not to let this cancer beat me has helped me through, along with the massive support I’ve had from friends and family—and of course WCSUK. My emotions have taken a battering and I still sometimes find myself crying for nothing in particular. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and although I saw my GP as soon as the first symptom showed, I know now I should have pushed to get the original gynae team off their bums!

I think my womb cancer experience has made me more outspoken, more confident in some ways and I’m no longer afraid to utter the word cancer. It’s as much a part of me as is my plastic urostomy pouch!

The end of my womb cancer story hasn’t been written yet.
For now, I’m a womb cancer survivor.

 

 

 

My story by C.H

Continuing on with our guest blogs for September's awareness campaign, here is another survivor's story!

I remember very clearly been diagnosed with endometrial [womb ] cancer which was 2 days before Christmas.  I had first been to see my GP 9 months earlier with bleeding between periods; I was not concerned as I had a history with polyps which was what the GP found. I was referred to hospital to see the gynaecologist. In June I had cervical polyps removed in outpatients and with relief I thought that was the end of the matter. I then continued to have bleeding between periods and delayed going back to the GP hoping the symptoms would go away or that the symptoms were related to my age being 43 years of age and hitting the menopause. Never did I think I had womb cancer. In August I decided I needed to go back to my GP, she referred back to the gynaecologists and the GP also arranged an ultrasound. The doctor at the hospital wondered why I had been referred back.  Luckily she spoke to the consultant and made arrangements for me to come in to have a hysteroscopy under a general anaesthetic.

The first mention of cancer was after the hysteroscopy when the consultant came to me. She had found a polyp in the womb which she suggested could be nasty but highly unlikely to be cancer due to my age; she arranged to see  me back in clinic 8 weeks. I was left on my own very upset and confused. Why if it could be cancer was I waiting 8 weeks for the results? I remain very anxious. A couple of weeks later I spoke to one of the consultants I worked for who very kindly speeded up the process to get results, as I wanted to know my histology results were ok before Christmas!!

December 22nd I arrived home after a busy day at work and was just about to go out on a Christmas do. There was a message on my answer machine from the consultant to contact her secretary. I knew then something was not right as consultants don’t usually leave messages on answer machines to contact with them urgently. As it was late I could not get hold of anyone. Burst into tears as I realised my life was about to completely change and was very frightened. Decided still to go out on Christmas do to try cheer myself up but only told 2 friends what was happening. Still managed to go to work the next day. I was trying to be run a busy clinic and spent half the morning trying to contact the hospital to speak to the consultant and specialist nurse. I did not want to tell colleagues what was happening at this stage.

A friend came with me to the hospital in the afternoon and I was given the results by the specialist nurse and the consultant came in later. I knew then it was womb cancer and that I needed a hysterectomy before they told me.  The consultant said I was not going to die but the word cancer felt like a death sentence.  Working in a cancer hospital for several years made me very scared of what could happen. I was told it was aggressive as a grade 3 tumour. I was also told if you are going to get a cancer then womb cancer was the better one to have as had good cure rate; this left very confused. I was also shocked that I would have a surgical menopause. Children were now out of the question. After been diagnosed I decided to be up front with my colleagues as I did not want mix messages and incorrect rumours.
 

The hardest part was telling my family, this was not the Christmas we wanted. Never forget walking into my Mum’s living room and breaking the bad news. The family were very supportive.

The following week I tried to go back to work, got as far as putting on my uniform and realised that it was impossible to back to working in clinics when I was now a patient myself so the uniform went back in the wardrobe and I went off sick.

One my most vivid memories were going for my first appointment to see the gynaecologist oncologist. My appointment card had my name and oncology clinic written on it. I was so use to dealing with other cancer patient’s appointment cards so this was very surreal; the tables had been completely turned on me.

I found it very hard to keep focused on what the consultant was saying did I want my lymph glands removing? Did I want a laparoscopic or an abdominal incision?  Luckily I took a friend to be second pair of ears as I was completely overwhelmed.

I had the surgery on the 3^rd January 2006. I recovered very well but was surprised the hot flushes started as soon as I got back from theatre. I decided I wanted to remain positive: hardest part was waiting for the final results after the operation to see if I needed further treatment. The consultant gave me the great news that it was stage 1A. I rang my family and then called into work and told everyone the good news. I was over the moon.

I remained on a high for several weeks but reality began to hit me - especially when I went back to work 4 months later. I started feeling very isolated and anxious; it was hard for some friends and colleagues to understand what I was going through. There was no support group for womb cancer. I wanted to meet other ladies with womb cancer similar to my age. In the September after the diagnosis, I  hit meltdown. I got to the point when I needed to make changes to my life or risk going off work with stress. I cut my work hours down, dropped some of work responsibilities; this meant a pay cut but was worth it. I joined a gynaecology support group in Liverpool. I was referred for counselling. Life slowly started to improve.

 Hospital appointments: These were very hard at the beginning but became easier. I took the day off work and went for a nice treat afterwards shopping; coffee and cake!

The first Christmas after diagnosis was also difficult it was like going through the whole process all over again and I think it can take years to get over the diagnosis. For each anniversary I got a bottle of champagne to celebrate with my friends. I have finally been discharged this year after 5 years and it nice to know now I do not have to worry about the cancer coming back. I appreciate life much more and try not to take things for granted. I did fundraising for the hospital that treated me with a Hafla- a belly dance party.

 I now hope to continue fundraising for my local hospital that treated me. I joined a womb cancer support group on face book so I can now help other women like myself. We are group of women who want to raise the awareness of womb cancer to save more lives and support each other. 

No woman should fight alone.

Its a Peachy Birthday by D.P

International Womb Cancer Awareness Day falls on my birthday. As a womb cancer survivor, I can view that as either very appropriate or as taking things just a tad too far... The jury’s still out, but I did have a good day so I’m not complaining. You might ask what I did that was so special – the answer is that I went to work.
Working is something I’ve done all my life; be it at my studies, at being a mum, at doing my job or at anything else I’ve put my mind to. So many things mesh together to make a person who they are and what I do is a big part of my identity. I guess it defines me in some way. So there I was at work, having a good day, and it reminded me just how very lucky I am.
As a womb cancer patient – and whether I like it or not, that’s officially what I am until the five year monitoring period is up and then, hopefully, never again although, “In this game we never say never,” to quote my surgeon – the one thing I soon got told was that I had to do as I was told.
Now, for a stubborn woman, that was not exactly music to my ears. I said I’d try, I’d do my best, but I wasn’t giving any guarantees. Or maybe the words ‘I’ll try’ came out of my mouth while ‘Yeah, right’ was going through my head. I can’t be totally certain, I don’t recall the exact details of the day I was given the news of the diagnosis, but if you know me well then you’ll draw your own conclusions I’m sure.
‘My Life In Their hands’ wasn’t exactly my favourite title at that point.
At my most ill before the cancer diagnosis, when I couldn’t breathe properly, I couldn’t walk properly and I was in almost constant pain, the one thing I wanted was normality. It was a psychological need that over-rode what my body was telling me and it’s where pushing myself to go to work came in. I got called stubborn – no surprises there! I got told to be kind to myself. I got asked what I was doing there when I should be at home in bed. All kindly meant and the answer was that I was trying to still be me. I needed the normality of doing the things I would usually do and I didn’t want to be beaten by a body I felt had let me down so badly. If that makes me stubborn, so be it. But it also makes me a fighter, it kept me sane and it gave me something to aim for, because I already ‘knew’ before the official diagnosis that I had cancer, I simply didn’t know what sort. And when I was finally told what sort, I’d never heard of it before. And that’s just plain wrong.

My Story by J.H

August 2011 was a momentous month for me, in more ways than one. I had my two sons visiting from Australia with their families, and life was pretty damn good.
I had felt incredibly tired for weeks – possibly months, but had put it down to the excitement of getting everything ready for their visit, and running round visiting people and places with them, and having great fun and laughter with all the joys that having a 15 month old baby in the house brings.
I was 53, soon to have my 54th birthday in September.  I was having a horrible time with the menopause – had I finished my periods or not?
Every time I thought  I had, I had such a disappointment to find that, actually, after 6 months of having no periods, along came another. I didn’t pay too much attention to it to be honest, I was far too busy getting on with life – planning for the visit, running the Canine Charity that I had founded with a couple of friends, and looking after my 80 year old mum. 
However, just before August I started to bleed after nothing for 9 months, and just didn’t stop. I was so fed up after four weeks of bleeding that I decided to pop to the doctor to ask for some tablets which would stop the bleeding and make me feel lesstired.  What a shock when I saw him and asked him for some medication, when he said ‘Yes, I could certainly do that for you.  But I wouldn’t
be doing what is best for you. Bleeding like this and for so long, is not usual and we need to get this checked out – it will probably benothing at all, but it needs to be checked’.

There and then he phoned and got me an appointment for the following week, to see a Gynaecologist at a local hospital.  I thought it would be a quick visit, possibly an examination and that would be it. But no. After taking my medical history – problems with very painful periods from the age of 13, a son born by Ventouse, the next by emergency C Section, endometriosis and fibroids - I had a smear testand was booked in for various ultrasound scans and a hysteroscopy.

On the 15th September, my sons and their families went back home, and the house was quiet again. I was really sad, missing them from the outset, but that happens every time. I had the scans, and went for the hysteroscopy, but the doctor couldn’t manage to do it under a local anaesthetic, so I had to be admitted for a general, which was done on the 28th September 2011 – it’s strange how dates have now become very important to me! 
I was in and out on the same day, and went home armed with an appointment to see the consultant in 2 weeks time. However, the very next evening I had a call from the hospital asking if I could pop along to see the doctor the following day.  I explained that I already had an appointment for a fortnight, but the secretary insisted that the consultant needed to see me thenext day.
That is when I knew.

So, on the 30th September, I went along with my husband, after a sleepless night, and I remember sitting in a different room than usual to see the consultant, a room with lots of different jerseys from various football, rugby and cycling stars. I remember staring at them as the consultant explained that I had womb cancer.
I remember hearing the words, and listening to how, if I had to have cancer at all, this was the ‘best one to have’, but carrying on looking at the framed jerseys on the wall. No tears. No hysterics.
Just a calm acceptance.

I looked at my husband, who was sat next to me, clutching my coat and my handbag.  He was a deep shade of red, and staring at me intently. I kept thinking that we had only just waved our sons off back to Australia – what am I going to do without them near?
I heard the consultant ask me if I was alright, and I said. ‘Yes, I’m fine thank you – so what happens now?’

What happened next was that I was referred to the Christie Hospital. Because I was overweight the consultant I saw decided that he would prefer me to have an apronectomy as well as a Total Abdominal Hysterectomy, so I was also referred to a Plastic Surgeon. A date was arranged for surgery, but I was phoned a week earlier to see if I could go in the next day for surgery. I agreed, and had surgery on 16th November 2011.  I woke up in the Critical Care Unit, after having an
apronectomy, total abdominal hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo oophorectomy, and had a wound which was 20inches long, which took some getting used to, but I had the most fantastic nurse in the CCU, who got me through the 3 days whilst I was in there – I will never forget him.

I was allowed home after 7 days, with the District Nurse coming in to check on me every day. However, the day after going home my 20inch wound decided to come apart, leaving me with 3 pretty big cavities. The disrict nurse sent me back to the Christie for a review, but it was
decided to pack the wound and dress it on a daily basis. So from November through to April 2012 I had a daily visit from the nurse to pack and dress the wound, and a weekly visit to the dressings clinic
for a check and a photograph of the wound to see how things were progressing. Through these weeks there were several dark days, and I was so thankful for my circle of family and friends.

In April I was given the ok to be handed over to the Oncology team. The histology had showed that the cancer had grown into my cervix, so I was prescribed 20 external radiotherapy sessions, and 19 hours ofBrachytherapy (internal radiotherapy). I got through the external sessions with nausea, bowel and bladder problems, and shocking fatigue, which I had expected.  The 19 hours of Brachytherapy was very challenging – not painful, but not being able to move for 19 hours, apart from when the nurses turned you to rub yourback, was difficult. The worst thing was the boredom, and not being
 able to eat or drink much because of being flat on my back, but at 5.30am my 19 hours were up, and I had the tastiest tea and toast EVER!

I experienced very bad back and leg pain a couple of weeks after the Brachytherapy, so the Oncology team organised a CT scan, which showed up a problem with my liver and with my lymph nodes – but no cancer in my pelvic region. Fabulous news!

The hardest thing in dealing with all this was having my sons so far away and having to tell them, and also telling my mum. Watching my husband trying to stay positive and deal with everything was
terrible too. I just wanted to gather everyone who is special to me together and keep them near.

I was very ignorant of the symptoms of womb cancer, and I am especially thankful to my doctor for acting so promptly.  From what I hear doctors like mine are few and far between.
 I have done so many positive things since my diagnosis – after not having a proper holiday in the past five years I have been on two in the past few weeks, I took part in the Sport Relief Mile (only
walking it, but it felt great!), after being a singer up to two years ago I am now singing again and have got a ‘gig’ lined up for Christmas! 
Cancer hasn’t beaten me – it made me evaluate my life and get on and enjoy it.

So here I am, almost 12 months after my diagnosis, 3.5stones lighter (with more to go!), a very strange body shape (I lost my belly button as a result of the apronectomy!), still having good days and bad, but let me tell you – life is damn good!

Why we need to raise awareness.

Today is 20th September. International Womb Cancer Awareness Day.

I had never heard of womb cancer before my diagnosis - and I'm not alone. There are many women in Womb Cancer Support UK who were unaware of it also.

This is why this awareness campaign is important - if women are not aware of womb cancer then how can they know if they are at risk of getting it?
We are all aware of the various campaigns around for breast cancer; cervical cancer; ovarian cancer but there is nothing for womb cancer.
That is why we at WCSUK are determined to change things!
This is our  2nd awareness campaign! Although we do raise awareness throughout the year, we felt there needed to be a full on campaign to get womb cancer out in the open and get women talking about it.
We are very grateful to the women who have "told" their story - either by writing the various guest blogs that have appeared here during September or allowing their story to be turned into a mini video that have been put on youtube!
You can check them out here! http://www.youtube.com/user/WombCancerSupportUK/videos?flow=grid&view=0

When I got my diagnosis I felt alone and scared! Living on a small island made me even more isolated - there was no one I could talk through who knew how I was feeling.

That was the main reason behind setting up WCSUK - I didn't want other women to feel so alone as I did. The main group now has 500 followers on FB and we have a closed chat group of over 70 women who support each other through the ups and downs of having womb cancer. Some are 5 years+ in remission - others have only just been diagnosed.
The one thing that stands out is the age range. Womb cancer is often regarded as a cancer of post menopausal women but we have women in the group who are in their 30's and 40's, Our latest lady to join us was 19 years ole when she was diagnosed!

This above anything highlights why we need awareness campaigns like the one we are running throught September. There needs to be much more done to highlight the risk factors and the signs and symptoms to look out for.

Sadly, we can only do so much. We are a small group, with no financial backing. But we have the support of some lovely women who are helping to spread the word bit by bit and if we can get more women to be "womb aware" and get any abnormal bleeding checked out by their GP, then we are doing something positive.

Thank you again to everyone who has read the blogs; watched the videos; shared the links; changed their profile picture to something peach. It all helps to raise awareness.

Always remember - no one fights alone!

Kaz xx

©WCSUK

My Story - by S.B

Continuing on with our guest blogs for September's awareness campaign, here is another survivor's story!

Being in our 60s, “romantic interludes” between my husband and I are for high days and holidays! It was two days after one such occasion, his birthday, that I started bleeding. My last period had been about 7 years previously and the bleeding I had reminded me of either the first day or last couple of days of a period. Not too heavy but needing a pad. About 9 years previously I had had a polyp removed from my cervix which had caused heavy bleeding and I just thought it must be another of these.
 My GP examined me and couldn’t see anything. She did not think there was anything to be concerned about but said if I wanted she could refer me to the hospital for a thorough examination. When I went I saw the Macmillan CNS Gynaecology/Oncology who examined me and took biopsies. She said there was thickening and my cervix was “spongy”. Without her saying it I got the strong impression that she thought there was something seriously wrong, especially when she asked if I had anyone with me.  I hadn’t.
When I went back for the results and saw the Consultant Gynaecologist I had my daughter with me while my husband waited in the Waiting Room. The Senior Macmillan Cancer Nurse was there and there was a box of tissues on the table. I was told the results were bad, I had endometrial cancer and possible cervical cancer. It was Carcinosarcoma, a rare and aggressive type. My daughter had hoped I was being pessimistic and had not expected this. She was extremely upset as was my husband. I was quite calm as I had expected bad news.

I had my operation and was put in a Gynaecological/Oncology Ward amongst other ladies who were in for non cancer hysterectomies, prolapses, etc. I was very ill after the operation and they couldn’t figure out why my temperature was so high and why I was so sick. For four days and nights I had doctors coming to me for blood samples, I had “umpteen” drips of various things and the worst thing was I overheard other patients talking about how difficult it was to sleep with the doctors coming to me throughout the night.
I had combined chemotherapy for one dose but it made me very ill and my liver was being affected. They cut the drug out that can cause liver damage and gave me another single session. Again I was very ill so they decided to stop it. They said my body could not cope with the chemotherapy.
The upside is they are pretty confident they got it all after removing my uterus, cervix and lymph nodes and in a way my husband saved my life.

So ladies do not ignore any unusual bleeding.

My Story - by JH

Continuing on with our guest blogs for September's awareness campaign, here is another survivor's story!

I've never liked fair ground rides; I remember once screaming so loud on a ferris wheel my mum had to get it stopped for me; but in May 2011 I started on a rollercoaster ride that I couldn't stop, I just had to hang on for the ride.
My journey started by a simple trip to the Docs, an oddity for me, I very rarely went. I had found a small lump on my vaginal wall, quite painful. I thought it was a cyst, which it was, but my GP noticed something; she said I looked really pale, anaemic in fact and ran some blood tests.
I got an urgent call the next day, they wanted to see me straight away. I was borderline needing a transfusion I was so anaemic. My GP asked me about my periods.  I had always had really heavy long periods, from being 18, they had got worse over the last three years, but I had just dealt with them.
My GP was fab and said it needed looking into. She referred me but I heard nothing.  In the meantime she fitted me with a mirena coil. This lasted a week,  I had a bad reaction to it and hemorrhaged, so my GP removed it and was horrified by the amount of blood and clots.  She said I needed to see a consultant urgently; things were not right. I was put on meds to slow the bleeding, but it didn't stop, this was in October.
She got on to the hospital, they finally sent me an appointment for November.
November came I was still bleeding, I saw a young registrar who took biopsies and examined me, did some scans, didn't say much, just said I needed more tests!
December came, I was given a hysteroscopy, it was agonising, I was still bleeding, no-one really answered my questions.
By now I was feeling quite ill; my GP was seeing me every week, checking my blood levels and giving me lots of support, hounding the hospital for answers and results; she felt now my only option was a hysterectomy.
January came; the hospital said all biopsies were negative. I had an enlarged twisted tilted womb, with lots of cysts and fibroids;  however they wanted to try an ablative first, I said I felt a hysterectomy would be better, but the consultant said they had to at least try, so I put my faith in them.
January 25th the ablative failed; my womb was too enlarged and twisted.
By now I was in agony. I spent a week.in hospital after the ablative, but no-one seemed to listen; they just gave me pain meds and more meds to slow the bleeding.
My GP was outraged; she wrote to the hospital to speed up my appointment, I was by now unable to work,
The hospital finally saw me in March.
The consultants first words were "I hear you think you need a hysterectomy", I just broke down; all my agony, pain, frustration just flew out. I think I even screamed at him; another consultant came in, "we will see what we can do" she said. I walked out feeling like a mad women who was faking it and putting on.
I rang my GP in floods of tears; she reassured me she would hound them again.
The letter came a week later; I had to see another consultant the following week.
Progress I thought! The appointment was brill, I could have the op in May; a long wait but I could manage, even if by now I was on 45 tablets a day and still off work.
The day came; they wanted to try it by Lap, I put my faith in them. I came round on HDU, the operation had took 7 hours, I ran into breathing difficulties as my womb was so hard to remove, they had finished up leaving my ovaries and cervix, no biggy I thought at least no more bleeding, after a long year the ride was over.
I came home 4 days later but I still felt so ill, just part of it I thought.
On 30th May 2012 at 1pm the hospital rang; could I come in tomorrow /I knew then it had to be bad news. I wanted the roller coaster to stop, but the driver wasn't listening!
I didn't sleep; my Hubby and I arrived at the hospital at 10:00 am; finally at 10:45am we were taken to see a consultant; the same one who asked me why I wanted a hysterectomy! She dropped the bomb shell;  I just wanted to scream at her. I was being transferred to Sheffield for my care; Chesterfield didn't deal with cancer! All I could think was,  thank god for that!
Sheffield rang me the next day; "could I be there by 4:00pm"; god its happening fast, I thought, but good!
Mr Gillespie was brilliant; he talked through what had been found but said it was hard to know exactly as my womb had been shredded! "What??" I asked, I didn't know, Chesterfield hadn't told me! He was appalled;  He said my treatment had been dealt with wrongly from the start, but we had to move on.
I was booked in for a open abdominal BSO and cervical stumpectomy, plus abdominal washings on the 21st of June. I saw another consultant Miss Kew, who would do the op;  a consultant anaesthetist Miss Bland, because of the issues I'd had before, and my CNS Angela, they were all amazing. For the first time I felt listened to, I felt confident in them.
My GP rang me when I got home, she was stunned with my diagnosis but she too was happy I was at Sheffield.
Op day came; the nurses and doctors were wonderful, so attentive. I had a melt down, think it finally hit me.
I finished up on intensive care but Miss Bland never left my side till I was stable. The op went well but they couldn't get my pain under control, or my blood pressure.
A week later I was home, sore and tired, but I didn't feel ill like last time.
On the 2nd of July, my hubbies 50th birthday, we were given the results. My pelvis was clear, no cancer was found anywhere else; however because of the uterus being shredded they were not sure yet if I needed radiotherapy. Never the less I was elated!
The hospital called the next day, they felt to be sure I should have Brachytherapy. They knew my cancer was 1b but thought it likely to be a grade 2 but because of the mess Chesterfield had made they couldn't guarantee it.
On the 4th of August I went into Weston Park. Again all staff were excellent. I have to say it wasn't the best experience I have had, it was a hard 3 days of treatment but the staff got me through.
So here I am, hopefully at the end of my rollercoaster journey. I hung on tight, gritted my teeth; through the loops, bumps, and terrifying moments, I can finally slow it down. My GP; Sheffield team; my family and friends got me through. I survived. I am still here, still smiling and that is all that matters!