The Champion

I am invincible, unbreakable
Unstoppable, unshakeable
They knock me down, I get up again
I am the champion
You're gonna know my name
You can't hurt me now
I can't feel the pain
I was made for this, yeah, I was born to win
I am the champion - Carrie Underwood feat. Ludacris

Today was a big day. Today was an important day. Today was the day that I found out whether or not the chemo is working. Today was the day that I had been preparing myself for, for the last month. It was a day that most people will never have to experience but I did. 

"SCANXIETY".

If you've never experienced anxiety before, waiting for a CT scan and the results of that scan will ensure anxiety symptoms pop up. This last month has seen my anxiety levels skyrocket. It's something that other cancer patients have described as SCANXIETY - anxiety experienced due to an upcoming scan to determine whether treatment is working. Today was supposed to have happened two weeks ago on the 12th of July but due to the nurses strike (which I wholeheartedly support - nurses are amazing people) the scan and appointment didn't happen. Pushing this day back was annoying and stressful but it allowed me to be even more prepared for the news. 

When I first met with my amazing oncologist Dr Kennedy, he explained the situations we could be in. He painted this picture: we have 100 people who have the exact same diagnosis as me and receiving the same chemotherapy. For 25 of that 100, the chemo would not work at all - no shrinkage of the cancer and maybe new cancer growth. For another 25, the chemo would sort of work - maybe a small amount of shrinkage of the cancer or it keeps the cancer stable. For the remaining 50, the chemo would work great - good amounts of shrinkage. I hoped I would be in either group of people where the chemo is working. But I was prepared for the worst news possible - that chemo is not working and maybe more cancer has popped up. My anxiety was at an all time high while I was sitting in that waiting room. The CT scan was easy but waiting for the results was the hard part. In cases like mine, you prepare for the worst, but hope like hell for the best.

"Your scans are even better than what I expected".

He said the words that I never thought I would hear. MY CANCER IS SHRINKING!!!!! And its not shrinking just a little bit, chemo has significantly decreased the size of the tumours. The chemo is working and its working even better than what Dr Kennedy expected it to. You cant even begin to imagine how I felt in that moment. I was elated, relieved, surprised, shocked, but above all grateful and happy. This result makes all the needles, the chemo, the side effects of chemo, the long days spent at the hospital and the constant blood tests worth it. It means that everything that I am doing, that Dr Kennedy is doing, that my nurses are doing, that my family and friends are doing is making a difference and is giving me the best chance at survival. I am unbreakable and I am a champion. And I will beat this.

This has also opened up the doors to surgery. Due to the significant shrinkage of the tumours in my liver, surgery is more than just an option. It is happening. The surgeon will be removing the cancer from my liver and leaving me with enough liver to function while it regenerates itself. This surgery is also giving me the best chance at survival and as much as the idea of a massive surgery scares me, I am so lucky that it is happening. I meet with the anaesthetist tomorrow and the surgeon next Tuesday and then surgery will be officially booked in and is likely to happen within the next two weeks. Another piece of good news - my PICC line is going to be taken out and a Portacath will be put in while I have the liver surgery. A portacath is an implanted IV device which sits under the skin just below the collarbone. It can be accessed for chemo and means I will not have to worry about dressing changes (especially since I'm allergic to all the dressings they use), line infections, or having to cover it when showering or swimming. It is going to make life so much easier. Its the little things in life! And I am so grateful for these little things. I'm so grateful that my treatment plan is working and that my body is doing exactly what it should. 

While today was an extremely long and tiring day, it was also a good day. And I will take as many good days as I can get. The cancer diagnosis completely knocked me off my feet but I got up and I'm a fighter. I know now that I am unstoppable. I was born a winner and I will beat this. 

I am a CHAMPION!!!

It's My Life

It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
(It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just want to live while I'm alive
It's my life – Bon Jovi

When you've been told that you have a life threatening disease, its easy to forget that you still have a life to live. Everything starts to resolve around the cancer and you forget that you are still a person and not a walking statistic.

"With the surgery, I can give you two or three years".

A few weeks ago, I had a pretty shitty appointment with a surgeon. From the moment I was diagnosed I was told that surgery was not an option and chemo was all we could do. But now, a surgeon has looked at my scans and decided that surgery on my liver is a possibility. The appointment was to discuss the surgery, what it would involve, recovery time etc and to meet the surgeon. However, that's not really what happened. Rather than focus on the surgery, the surgeon decided to tell me how long I would live with and without the surgery based on his "expert opinion". Finding out I could be having surgery was a shock, but also being given a timeline just made the entire appointment worse. My oncologist hasn't even told me this as he doesn't know and wouldn't want to give me false hope. So how could this surgeon possibly know something that my oncologist doesn't and why did he feel the need to throw me in the deep end without some floaties? I'm only at the beginning of my treatment so hearing this news has really thrown me.

The news really affected me and I wallowed in my self-pity for a few days before I remembered that I still have a life to live. I'm not going to life forever, no-one is, so I might as well get off my pity train and live my life, and live it my way. 

A few days after this appointment, my amazing friend Ellie came over from Sydney and kept me distracted for a few days. It was so refreshing to get out of the house, and not for another hospital appointment, but to actually do something for me. I spent too much money shopping (face palm), had a relaxing spa, which helped with the aches and pains from chemo, and just generally enjoyed being ME again. So to Ellie, thank you for visiting and keeping me distracted, thank you for letting me be me again and thank you for being you! I also went to the pub with my crazy family. I played pool, which I'm not very good at, I had a few drinks, laughed, danced, sang and watched my mama sing and dance (slightly embarrassing). These few days weren't about the cancer, it was about me enjoying my life with friends and my weird family. For the first time since I was diagnosed, I didn't feel like the girl with cancer...

Yes I'm sick but that doesn't mean I have to live my life as a sick person. My life does not have to resolve around cancer and it doesn't have to define me. I don't have to live as the girl with cancer, I can just be Tiana. So whether I only have 3 years or 60 years to live, I'm going to live my life and do the things that I want to do.

"I Refuse to Sink".

I refuse to be defined by my cancer. I refuse to let the cancer control my life. I refuse to live my life as a cancer patient. And I refuse to let the cancer beat me. This is why I got this tattoo. I want everyone to know that I REFUSE TO SINK. I'm going to live my best life, whether that means getting tattoos or going bungy jumping, but I'm going to do what I want, when I want and it'll all be for me. It's taken some time for me to realise that I can have cancer and still be myself, and that I can live my life the best way I can. So I'm going to come up with a list, a Bucket List if you will, of things that I want to do, things I want to see and I plan on ticking each one of these things off. At the end of my life I want to be able to say that I did it, and I did it my way. 

This is my one and only life, and it's now or never. I just want to live while I'm alive. 

Just Like a Pill

"I can't stay on your life support, there's a shortage in the switch
I can't stay on your morphine, 'cause its making me itch
I said I tried to call the nurse again but she's being a little bitch
I think I'll get outta here, where I can
Run just as fast as I can
To the middle of nowhere
To the middle of my frustrated fears
And I swear you're just like a pill
'Stead of makin' me better, you keep makin' me ill
You keep makin' me ill - Pink

I started my second cycle of chemotherapy yesterday. While I am glad there is something that can be done to treat my cancer, its hard to believe that something that can treat you, can also make you sick.

This is a Peripherally Inserted Central (PICC) catheter. A PICC line is a flexible tube that has been inserted into a vein in my arm. The catheter is threaded along the vein and rests in the major vessel just outside the heart. This line allows for repeated doses of drug treatment without having people continuously jab me with needles. THUMBS UP!! So this is how my chemo is administered every fortnight. 

I cant feel the line at all but I know it's there and I do have to be careful with it. No getting it wet, no strenuous activity (gets me out of doing housework, again THUMBS UP), the dressing has to be changed every week and keeping it clean is the most important thing. Showering can be a pain, same with swimming but at least I'm not getting stabbed with needles all the time. Its the small things people!

My chemo day starts off with making sure the line isn't blocked, changing the dressing and a lovely mix of anti-nausea medications and lorazepam to help with anxiety and to make me sleepy. Finally they hook me up to all the chemo medication.

The first lot of chemo are the bags on the outside, Oxaliplatin (in the black bag) and Folinic Acid. These are administered over two hours and are then flushed through my system using Glucose. The Oxaliplatin works by interfering with cell growth and reproduction, eventually destroying the cancer cells while the Folinic Acid increases the anti-cancer effects of the other chemo medications.

"I WANT TO SUCK YOUR BLOOD". Next is an iron infusion. Apparently my iron levels are extremely low, so for the next few chemo cycles I have to have iron infusions to bring my levels back up. The iron is administered over 30 minutes and again is flushed through with Glucose. Its crazy how much energy you end up with when your iron levels are starting to normalise!

My chemo day finishes with these two lovely things known as Fluorouracil or 5-FU. 5-FU is given as an injection into the vein and then I am hooked up to a pump which works by allowing a small amount of 5-FU an hour to be released from the pump and continuously infuses over 46 hours. I have to carry this pump with me everywhere, usually in my pocket, until it is removed after the infusion period.

"You will experience some side effects with this chemo".

NO SHIT SHERLOCK!!!! I'm so grateful that my cancer is being treated but the side effects of chemo almost make you question whether it is worth it. I'm lucky that this chemo will only thin my hair out and not completely loose it. However, the other side effects are really kicking my ass. There's the nausea and projectile vomiting. I do have anti-nausea meds to help with this but it doesn't entirely prevent it. Next is the taste and appetite changes. Some foods just don't taste the same or can taste like metal. The chemo also messes with my appetite, making me not wanting to eat or feeling like I can't eat. This usually comes back right before I start my next cycle of chemo - YAY ME. Next is the fatigue. For me, it lasts throughout the entire course of treatment. I might be lucky to get a few days of reprieve but I'm tired all the time and usually need an afternoon nap. Its like being a toddler again. Now here are my favourites - the constipation and diarrhoea. The constipation starts the day after chemo and can last a couple of days, then the diarrhoea kicks in for a couple of days. Again it usually corrects right before I start the next cycle of chemo. The strangest side effect is the pain I get in my fingers, feet and throat triggered by cold temperatures. If I have ice cream it feels as if there is something sharp going down my throat and if I try to take something out of the freezer, it can cause pain in my finger tips. Its extremely odd and quite annoying - I love ice cream... 

The side effect I am really struggling with is the decreased immune system. Mum has taken to disinfecting everything, its quite cute. But it still hasn't stopped me from getting a cold. Someone can have the smallest cough or runny nose but when I get it, I end up with a full blown cold. Sore throat, runny nose, chesty cough, headaches, ear aches, body aches and a cold sore. I am also at a higher risk of infection so I have to be extra careful. Moral of the story, even if your only slightly sick - please do not visit anyone going through chemo. Save them from experiencing at least one pain in the ass side effect!

I know I shouldn't complain, because I know I'm getting the treatment that I need. But its kind of hard to be grateful when you feel like absolute crap every minute of every day. When receiving chemo, you do expect to experience some side effects - chemo and side effects come hand in hand. But it makes it hard to keep going when you experience every side effect under the sun. You would think that with all the advances in medicine that they could eliminate some of these side effects. It just blows my mind that a treatment that is supposed to destroy cancer can actually make you feel worse than the cancer does.

Its supposed to make me feel better but it keeps making me feel ill. 

You've Got A Friend in Me

"You've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me

You got troubles, I've got 'em too
There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you
We stick together and see it through
Cause you've got a friend in me
You've got a friend in me" - from Toy Story

When you receive bad news and all you can do is sit there and watch your life fall apart, its your friends that tend to pull you back and help put the pieces of your life back together. 

"I'm here for you 100% for anything and everything"

In the first few days after my cancer diagnosis, I was so lucky to be surrounded by amazing friends who kept me smiling, laughing, came to appointments, got me drunk, brought me presents, checked in on me every day and even fed me and my mum. It was in those first few days that I realised just how lucky I am to have such amazing friends.

When it came to making the decision to move home for treatment, the one thing that was holding me to Wellington was the people I would be leaving behind. I was worried that I wouldn't have the same support or network of people in Paeroa. I was so wrong about that. Friends that I had lost contact with or just had not spoken to in a while got in touch and reminded me that no matter where I am, I still have amazing people around me. I ran into an old friend the other day and on this day I was feeling pretty crappy and not myself. Rather than tip toeing around me, she just launched herself at me and hugged me. It was the smallest thing, but she completely made my day and made me feel a million times better. It made me realise that although I may have lost contact with old friends, they are still there for me as if time hasn't passed. When you've been friends for a long time, time or lack of contact doesn't change a thing.

I must admit, as grateful as I was for having these amazing friends, I was also feeling pretty bitter and angry about the situation. I have friends who have brought houses, gotten engaged/married, gotten new jobs, having babies or are just generally living their best lives, and I'm over here with cancer. I felt as if their lives had really begun and mine was coming to a massive halt. Seeing my friends living their best lives made me angry and bitter because it made me question whether I am going to live long enough for these things to happen to me or whether I will ever get to experience the joy and happiness that they are experiencing... 

But then I remembered the happiness I felt when I was asked to be a bridesmaid, or the excitement I felt when I got a Snapchat of a resignation letter, or the embarrassment of a messy Saturday night story and I realised that I'm living through these experiences with my friends and I get to feel the same things they do. So although it may not be happening to me, I still get to be part of the experience and that's enough for me.

These last few weeks I've been reminded that I'm not facing my cancer alone and there are people who are sticking by me and would do anything for me. I've got a friend in so many people and although I don't see them everyday, I know they are there and I want them to feel the same. 

To my amazing friends, You've Got a Friend in Me!

The Climb

"There's always gonna be another mountain
I'm always gonna wanna make it move
Always gonna be an uphill battle
Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose
Ain't about how fast I get there
Ain't about what's waiting on the other side
It's the climb" - Miley Cyrus

At the age of 25, I am being brought face-to-face with my first major mountain to climb. At 25, I have been diagnosed with Stage 4 Bowel Cancer which has spread to my liver and I am facing a massive uphill battle with no certainty that I will win.

"I'm sorry but you have cancer". 

You never expect to hear those words. You never expect that it will happen to you. And you never expect to have your entire life crumble down around you... One minute your living your life, the next your being told that your entire world is about to change and you have some big decisions to make.

It's been just over a month since I was first diagnosed and my life has already drastically changed. I packed up my entire life in Wellington and moved home to little old Paeroa, I left my job, my amazing work friends and my ever supportive friends who have become my family. I've had more blood tests than ever before, an ultrasound and CT scans, a surgery to save my bowel, met with doctor after doctor, nurses and more nurses, heard more medical jargon than I could ever begin to understand, and had a room full of medical professionals that I have never met, decide what they think is best for me without my own input or opinion. These medical professionals decided that chemotherapy is the best option right now and yesterday I started my first round of chemotherapy. 

I watched as my mother was told that she may loose her daughter and then watched in absolute awe as she held herself together to make sure she was doing everything possible to get me home and get me healthy. I watched as she made phone call after phone call to tell my family the news, and as she helped me pack me life up all the while holding herself together to protect me. She put all her emotions and feelings aside and still pushes everything aside to make sure she's doing everything she can for me and every day she amazes me even more. My family and friends have been absolute superstars, so supportive and I'm just so lucky to have the most amazing people in my life, who would do anything for me.

It's been a month of struggle. I have struggled with who I should tell, how to tell them, whether they will be able to cope and whether I will be treated differently. I struggled with the initial C-bomb, the doctor's decision to insert a colostomy bag to save my bowel, the decision to move home to Paeroa, with whether I'll be able to have children, but mostly I have struggled with how to accept being 25 and being diagnosed with life-threatening cancer. 

I suppose this blog is a way to help me accept these changes and to have a safe place to put my thoughts and feelings without feeling like I might hurt or offend anyone. And maybe its also a way to tell people about these changes without the feeling of having people pity me or feel sorry for me. I don't want to be pitied and I don't want people to feel sorry for me. I've come to realise that one of the most important things that I need as a cancer patient, is to be treated as normal. I'm just me, with a little something extra on the side now...

Each blog post will be titled with a song title, as it can help describe how I'm feeling. Currently, I'm facing a massive climb, it doesn't matter how fast I'll get to the other-side and it doesn't matter what's on the other side of that mountain. 

What matters is I'm willing to fight and face The Climb.