A little over, a retrospective
A little over a year ago I was in hospital, completely overwhelmed as Iād just heard I had cancer, and a cyst the size of a volleyball in my stomach.
A little over a year ago, I watched the start of the Tour de France with tears in my eyes, thinking it could be my last time.
A little over eleven months ago, I had surgery and was given the worst news after. I was inoperable.
A little over eleven months ago I was taken into hospital again, three days after discharge, an infection crippling my system.
Three weeks later, at discharge and after my first chemo, a doctor told me that she hadnāt expected me to leave the hospital alive.
A little over ten months ago, I heard from the doctor that she had made a miscalculation in the chemo, and that was the reason that I had to be re-admitted to hospital, and needed ten bags of blood to recover from the chemo damage.
She also said that it wasnāt likely I would have the surgery again to remove the cancer. It felt like a death sentence.
A doctor told me just before discharge that he hadnāt expected me to leave the hospital alive.
A little over nine months ago, I decided to focus on my life one day at a time, and to fill each day with as much joy as humanly possible. I decided to fight.
A little over eight months ago, the doctor told me she would start chemo again, a very light dose. She didnāt give me much hope to cling to, but cling, I did.
A little over five months ago, I had my last chemo, still at only 80% of the dosage of one of the medications.
A little less than four months ago, I had a scope surgery, as the second MRI showed the same image as the first MRI in December. The doctor said that was weird because I was feeling so much better, and the ultrasound showed no signs of cancer.
I woke up after the scope surgery to a doctor smiling at me, saying that she couldnāt find anything.
The blobs she saw on the MRI in December and in February were of my body reacting to chemo. Not cancer.
A little over three months ago, I had the same surgery as I had in July last year, and I woke up to a doctor telling me the operation was a success: she had removed my ovaries and the visible tumours.
Today, the Tour de France starts again.
Iām alive and so, so happy.