[2021-07-29] A year in my cancer journey
A year ago today, on July 29, 2020, I received devastating news. I learned that I had ovarian cancer—a surprising diagnosis after a trip to the emergency department of my local hospital because of pain in my abdomen. During an ultrasound to check my gallbladder for gallstones, hospital staff discovered a tumour. When the ER doctor took me into a tiny room at the end of the day, he didn't mince words: I had ovarian cancer. I asked whether it could be something else; he said not likely based on the size and shape of the mass. I left the hospital feeling stunned and numb.
I shared the news with my husband in the car on our way home. He was visibly upset. We said little beyond the fact that we would face this ordeal together. What could we say when we knew so little about the disease? Later that evening, I told my children in turn. They put their faith in me: if I were optimistic, they would be optimistic.
It would be five days before I told my mom and siblings. I wanted to do it in person, which I was able to do on August 3. In the meantime, I kept working. My job represented normalcy—my connection to what increasingly felt like a me that was fading away.
On August 4, after working all day, I married Chris in our backyard in the pouring rain with our kids as our witnesses. It felt like an appropriate elopement in the middle of a pandemic and under figurative as well as literal clouds.
On August 5, I admitted to myself that I could no longer muster the mental energy to do my job and face cancer at the same time. I let my boss and my immediate staff know that I would be taking leave to deal with my illness.
On August 6, I started the first day of health leave and launched this blog. Jenesis began as a way for me to keep loved ones, friends and employees apprised of my progress. It turned into something much bigger. A story of one person's battle against a frightening disease. A beacon of hope in a troubled time. A public journal of a cancer patient, then a cancer survivor and ultimately a human being discovering and rediscovering the many things that make life joyful.
I have always viewed the world through rose-coloured glasses, seeing beauty even in the midst of pain. In the past 12 months, I have been more present in the lives of my family members than I had been for years. I have been the beneficiary of so much love and concern. I have celebrated many little victories.
I also tend to quickly forget physical pain but remember vividly the people and circumstances that comforted me, uplifted me and healed me. I recall all the healthcare professionals who supported me and especially those who shared my enthusiasm for any sign of positive progress. I remember everyone who expressed sorrow that I was facing cancer, offered encouragement during my treatment, and told me that sharing my story was having a positive impact on them. I rejoice in all the connections I have developed and deepened with family members, immediate and extended, with friends, old and new, with colleagues, past and present, and with strangers who take inspiration, joy or solace from the story of my cancer journey.
I'm excited to see what the next year will bring.
