To the people who restored my hope.

I still remember like it was yesterday sitting in the consult room getting told about years to my living. “Hoping for 10” but we may “only get 2-3”. The look in the Oncologist’s eyes like this was the end of road. The tears filling up inside my mask and the complete numbness I felt whilst trying to compute the fact I may not live to my 35th Birthday. I went from being told my Cancer was non-aggressive and “easily treatable and curable” to suddenly having a tumour in my head that could be my death. That day I went home and sat in silence with my family and just stared at the floor. No words could come out my mouth, I was completely lost.

After surgery, my Neurosurgeon came in to say that on removal it did not look to be benign. I had set myself up for the news that it was again Cancer so when we got the result to confirm this it wasn’t so much a surprise. But I knew I wanted to fight. I wasn’t going to have anyone tell me I could have 2 years left, so my family and I gathered together all my scans, results, reports and sent them over to The Royal Mardsen. There are quite literally no words to describe how incredible that hospital have been. They took everything we gave and found me the right person for my case, and they did it fast! Gone were the days of endless waiting and hearing nothing; within a couple days I had an appointment booked in with my new Oncologist, Professor Ian Smith. Unfortunately I was attending my Grandmother’s funeral that week however he still made it possible by a Zoom call, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity I actually breathed.

“Frances you will get no doom and gloom from me. Do not lose hope on a cure, because I think we still can.”

Obviously no promises can be made, but hearing those words from a man who is so high up in his field and has the incredible credentials he does, tears streamed down my face but this time it was relief. My hope was restored.

The following week I got to meet him in person alongside my Breast Care Nurse Fleur, who I can honestly say I wouldn’t of stayed as strong as I have without. In actual fact if it wasn’t for Fleur I may not of even started treatment. I had a complete wobble and was absolutely petrified, but she, quite scarily, knew me so well so quick and knew exactly how I tick and asked me the question…

If I didn’t take chemotherapy would I forever be doubting if i made the right call and if in the end chemotherapy was needed would I be angry at myself for not taking it? The answer for both was yes.

So I began Chemotherapy and I am forever grateful to her for that decision. When I hit a mental low she instantly knew and got me seen rapidly by the Psychological department and when I was stressed about finances (being a Self-Employed Personal Trainer during Covid and Cancer ain’t fun on the bank account!) she got me the help I needed. It was taken care of behind the scenes without me having to do a thing. I cannot thank them enough for how much easier they have made this journey for me; the diligence, attentiveness and amount of information they provided. The laughs we have when I go in, the phone calls, rapid email replies, everything has made me feel completely at ease and gave me the strength I needed.

The Royal Marsden Hospital is second to none. The care I receive when I am there as well as well as when I am not has been amazing. I never feel alone and I always feel safe. I laugh with the nurses every time I go and they remember me so well which makes receiving treatment so much nicer. Any slight issues that crop up within the fun game I like to call chemo roulette are dealt with immediately with the best treatment plans.

Making the change was the best decision I ever made, and I one day hope to give back to these people in the best ways that I can.

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Talking to my pre-chemo self.

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It was a no brainer.