Cancer Mum shares her diary

Mother-of-three Sue Gibson, from Market Drayton, was devastated when she was diagnosed with bowel cancer late last year.

All the more so because, even though she is a nurse, she had ignored severe symptoms for months.

Now Sue has shared extracts from her diary to encourage other women not to be embarrassed and to talk to their doctor if they are worried about possible signs of the disease.

Luckily for Sue her treatment was successful and she is now on the road to recovery. By telling her brutally honest story she hopes it may save other lives.

08.12.06 Well, here is a diary I never thought I would ever have to keep!

I found out yesterday that I have a rectal cancer. Bit of a shock, even though I haven’t been well for quite a while.

Now then, this is not going to be my death journal, or my cancer journal. It is going to be a record of this unexpected journey that I find myself on.

The saddest bit for me is seeing mum and dad, Rob, and my beautiful children suffer. They shouldn’t have to. I have decided we won’t hate it, but will try to love it away.

09.12.06 A day full of mixed feelings, I had my brows waxed today, it felt so strange listening to the silly trivia being discussed in the salon. Rob told me how precious I am to him last night, I have always known it. But it was nice to hear the words again, only this time the words were spoken with a desperate, longing sadness, and brutal honesty.

10.12.06 We had a lovely Sunday lunch today with mum and dad; there was a lot of laughter. What a journey ahead we all have, I really don’t want to die. Not yet. I want to grow old with Rob, so we can “potter”. We want to see more of our beautiful planet. I want to see my children marry, hold my grandchildren, see my parents safely across to heaven. I want to see an opera, walk on Druidstone beach again, and have a million more family Sundays…

11.12.06 How quickly alien talk becomes day to day language…
“Yes, rectal cancer, staging of the tumour on Wednesday.”

“Oh good, Wednesday, not long to wait then.”

This morning Rob and I will look into the eyes of the man we hope will save my life. (I hope I look ok!).

12.12.07 We met the consultant surgeon today, he told us that he felt optimistic about my chances, he gave us 80 per cent. Provided that this is the primary tumour. We really took to him and feel very safe in his hands.

13.12.07 A strange day at work. Is that me finished with work I wonder? I finish totally at the end of next week, for three months only I hope.

14.12.06 Robs birthday, poor love. His worst birthday ever. Lord please let me be here next year to make it up to him.

16.12.06 We put up the Christmas tree today, I was thinking to myself, “Who will do this next year?”, then out of a bag came a beautiful white feather, this I know is a sign, don’t lose faith, be strong.I have very little pain, I look normal, who could tell what battle is raging away inside me?

18.12.06 I have just had a phone call off my surgeon. There is no spread. (Thank you Lord), but it is a very large tumour. So the plan is that I have a five-week course of radiotherapy, and chemotherapy, to try and shrink the cancer.

19.12.06 This afternoon I meet my oncologist. I am now a cancer patient.

22.12.06 Hello book. I haven’t written for ages, the past few days have gone in a whirl. My oncologist is lovely. He spent ages explaining all the details of the treatment I will have to endure. We saw the MRI scan.

The cancer is huge! It’s ugly, and misshapen, taking up too much space in me, eating me away. It is about the size of a clenched fist. How did it get in me? Why did my body allow it in? Why did my own cells turn on me like this? Why couldn’t I tell it was there, growing in me, taking my blood, wanting my life?

29.12.06 Hello book, I have found it very difficult to write. We have had a really lovely Christmas, all things considered. “IT” was never far from my mind.

I am unsettled most of the time, I feel very uncomfortable, and find certain noises, sounds and people really irritate me, I suppose this is to be expected.

I don’t know how I am going to react to the treatment, I hope I will be brave and do well. I may become ill, I just don’t know, but it has to work, it just has to. At the moment I am a frightened mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend with cancer. I am she who wants the wisdom years, to hold the babies yet to come. To see my boy become a man, my girls become mothers, my parents become angels. She who wants to hold on tightly, forever to my man who holds my heart.

01.01.07 Is this the year I recover, or is this the year I die?

No matter how many people love you, and are around you, it is still a journey that you feel so alone on, people want to help, want to shoulder the pain and distress, but the burden is yours alone.

All the soaps are full of horrid story lines. I wish there was some happy stuff on the telly, anything to take my mind off dying!

11.01.07 The day is fast approaching when the treatment starts. It seems to have taken so long to get this far. I just hope there has been no spread during these weeks of waiting.

It feels like I am heading towards the edge of a high precipice, a cliff from which I have to fall, blindfolded, with no control, as I fall to my fate. I have to totally surrender myself to God, to fate, to the medical staff, to my Angels.

I feel so vulnerable, so exposed.

As soon as I close my eyes at night, along come the worries, the thoughts, as I try to imagine how it is going to be, how I am going to cope with it all. The pain, the fear, the sickness, the exhaustion. How will my life, our lives ever be the same after all this? Well it won’t. Nothing will ever be the same again.

15.01.07 First we had to go on to the chemotherapy unit for an intravenous infusion, everyone there is just so nice. The atmosphere is calm, and caring. There are volunteer ladies who bring mugs of tea, and sweets, smiles and kind a word, it’s like having loads of your mum wondering around. The radiologists are very sweet. So this will be my routine for the next five weeks.

09.02.07 This is the last week of radiotherapy only. I am feeling exhaustion like I would never have believed possible. No energy to talk. I have lots of discomfort. it’s not nice to feel this alien emotion, jealousy. I am jealous of my friends, their energy, and their plans for the future.

11.02.07 My amazing children bought me a beautifully green amber bracelet today. I just love it, it is now the most precious thing I own. Rob said to me yesterday, as he held my hands, and looked deep in to my eyes, “Sue, please don’t give up “. He knows me so well; he could see I am losing my grip. I seriously feel like refusing any more radiotherapy, but what if it is these last five days that are the ones that shrink this tumour.

16.01.07 I long to feel really well, I long to like what I see in the mirror, I long to know with certainty that I will always be there whenever my loved ones, or my patients need me. I long for a joyous time, a celebration, or a holiday. I long for my old confidence, and surefooted approach to life.

24.02.07 Praise the lord. My life force has returned.

Still feeling weak and very sore, bit sick, but happy. We have booked a weekend in Cornwall, just Rob and me. I can’t wait. I love life again!

28.02.07 Had a funny old day today, did some cooking, and walked into town. Rob was very late home from work this evening, and I had a very scary, full blown panic attack. I hadn’t realised until this happened, that it is possible to scream so loudly, yet make no sound, I screamed in to my own body, it was terrifying.

24.03.07 I am worried about Jenny; she is pale, and sad. I rang Jen twice, just knowing something is wrong, that she is keeping something from me. Guess what book, Jenny is pregnant! It feels so strange; it is a big shock, but a happy one. A baby!

25.03.07 Scream, scream, silent, deep, trying to understand. Aching for some reassurance.. Oh God please let me live, for my children, for my husband, for my parents, and for you tiny tiny life, you are loved, you are wanted. Amen.

02.04.07 No spread. It has shrunk. Surgery next week.

I had to try on a colostomy bag. My tummy has always been too big, but it is smooth, no stretch marks, and soft, perfect skin, soon to be covered in scars, and bags, sad sad soul. The price for life.

Oh book

Book, I don’t know the date, but it is now eight days since my operation.

I have not been able to read you, or write in you. I have touched you, knowing photos of my loved ones are in you, my letter from Robert, and other special bits and pieces.

Oh book, the silent horrors this week has been I just can’t put in to words. Simply the most trauma I have ever known. But, it would appear that I have survived the surgery.

Bit by bit, piece by piece this ward has taken me apart, until I could hardly recognise myself anymore.

But here I am again, writing, healing. Hope is growing inside me; there is now the promise of a future.

Bowel Cancer - The facts

What causes bowel cancer?

• Experts do not know precisely what causes most bowel cancers, and in many cases there are no obvious causes.
• We think that diet, lifestyle and family history are the three things most likely to affect a person’s chances of developing bowel cancer.
• Your risk of bowel cancer increases with age but it does affect younger people (10 per cent of people dying from bowel cancer are under the age of 50).

How can you improve your lifestyle to reduce your risk of developing bowel cancer?

• Eat a healthy diet. This means eating lots of fruit, vegetables, wholegrain foods and fish, and less fat, red and processed meat.
• Take regular exercise and try to keep a healthy weight.
• Stop smoking.
• Cut back on alcohol.
• Know your body and how it usually functions so that you recognise changes in your bowel habits.

What are the symptoms of bowel cancer?

Not everyone will have symptoms and the symptoms may vary. The most common symptoms to look out for are:

• A persistent change in bowel habit especially going more often or looser for several weeks.
• Bleeding from the bottom without any obvious reason.
• Abdominal pain, especially if severe.
• A lump in your tummy.

Please remember that most of these symptoms will not be cancer. If you have one or more of these symptoms for more than four to six weeks you should go and see your GP.

Help and support

Beating Bowel Cancer is a national charity working to raise awareness of symptoms, promote early diagnosis and encourage open access to treatment choice for those affected by bowel cancer.
For further information or to support their work, contact:
Beating Bowel Cancer, 39 Crown Road, Twickenham, Middlesex TW1 3EJ
Telephone: 020 8892 5256
Fax: 020 8892 1008
Email: info@beatingbowelcancer.org
Website: www.beatingbowelcancer.org