Lynne and her daughter
After receiving a cancer diagnosis, I was devastated at first as I am a single parent and the thought of not being there for my daughter was worse than thinking about what surgery lay ahead of me. I was angry also as just two weeks earlier had just found out I had passed my nursing degree. Now though I have learned to take one day at a time and stop worrying about the future so much. I just enjoy time now whilst I am fit and healthy.
My advice to others would be don’t read too much on the internet as each case is different and you will only scare yourself, enjoy life as we are only here once and talk about your feelings – don’t let things build up.
In case you missed it...
How shall I tell my children that I have appendix cancer?
Looking back, I think we were trying to protect our children from the reality of the disease. Initially, when we discussed my diagnosis, we used terms like death, dying, chemo and cancer. We thought we spun this into a very positive approach, but our “method” may have given our children a confusing and unrealistic message about survival instead.
Don’t give up hope!
On February 2nd, 2011, my appendix burst and I had an operation in Burton-on-Trent. I was 36. On March 7th, I received a letter from the hospital saying I’d missed a follow-up appointment for a suspected case of PMP. I hadn’t received the original letter and just what was PMP? I looked it up on the internet.
Dead Man to Iron Man
As I came to terms with the news, I understood that it would be important for me to get as fit as I could to face such an invasive operation ominously dubbed the “The Mother of all Surgeries” or MOAS.
My spouse susmita diagnosed with PMP, undergone CRS and hipec. Now better, but surrounded with fear. Want to know more on this