Eight years ago I was celebrating my 40th birthday. Unbeknownst to me however, my world was about to be - not just turned on its axis - but spun violently around until it finally shuddered to a halt five years later when I was given 'months to live'.
For those who don't know me or my story, here it is in brief. Lump found in breast. Lumpectomy to remove gobstopper sized cancerous tumour undertaken. Diagnosed as High Grade Triple Negative Breast Cancer. Six sessions of chemo took place during which I was delighted to experience every side effect possible, including reinstating the infamous vomiting skills I acquired as a child, and the migraines that I had been suffering from since my early twenties. I then sailed through radiotherapy and hoped it was all over. It wasn't.
Nine months later, I had unusual visions of honey pouring from my eyes and a floating waffle in my line of sight. My fabulous husband, Dean, took me to Royal Stoke where a brain scan revealed that the cancer had spread to my brain. I was under the misapprehension that I had suffered from a stroke, as I was ushered into a broom cupboard by a nurse carrying a ring binder with the word 'STROKE' in massive letters on the front. You can understand my mistake. It was actually metastasis, in other words, secondary cancer (the cancerous cells had moved from my breast to my brain). This was getting (more) serious.
I then had my big, plum-sized malignant brain tumour removed by a SPECTACULAR brain surgeon called Ms Albanese. This was followed by the torturous pain-fest that was Whole Brain Radiotherapy and...wait for it...five weeks later, another malignant brain tumour grew in exactly the same place in my brain! Ms Albanese removed the new tumour with the same exceptional skill.
Finally, I developed pulmonary embolisms which scuppered my (slim) chances of getting Gamma Ray surgery in a hospital in Birmingham and I was given "months not years" to live in October 2015. So that was then, fast forward to now...
Miraculously, and I don't say that word lightly, God saved me from my imminent death. I am still here! I am cancer-free! I have hair! I have a fully-functioning brain!
My oncologist told me that it was highly unusual that I was still here (but with God, all things are possible - I added that bit!). Ms Albanese, my neurosurgeon, considered me cured in 2015 (yippee!) and the Prof told me that the 'five year' mark is simply a way of assessing the number of people who are still living (for statistical analysis purposes). He said that due to the aggressive nature of the cancer and its speed in spreading, I would be considered COMPLETELY CURED eight years after diagnosis. Those eight years, my friend, end on Wednesday 10th November 2021!
So, as I celebrate, I consign those eight years to the past and I am giddily grateful to be alive and cancer-free! It is only due to the Grace of God that I am still here, but I am overwhelmed with gratitude to my amazing Dad who came with me to every appointment and refused to believe I was going to die, and my wonderful husband who loved and cared for me, and even slept upright on hospital chairs to stay by my side throughout my treatment. I am thankful to all my incredible friends (who I consider to be family), my Church family, all those who supported me with gifts and messages of love, and my Mum who never got to see me survive, who had suffered the loss of my lovely sister, Steph and could not bear to lose another daughter.
Finally, I will never forget the incredible woman who conducted two brain surgeries within five weeks of each other. She is a world-class neuro-surgeon who, no doubt about it, saved my life and my most important asset, my brain. Ms Albanese, you are my hero.
Thank you to everyone who played a part in my story. You will never know how important it was to me.
Amanda x
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