Things I learnt when I heard “Cancer”
No one ever really thinks they’ll hear those words spoken to them. You always hear of people having or getting cancer, but you feel removed from the situation. It’s always the same reaction.
“I’m so sorry to hear”.
It’s a phrase I’ve heard so much over the last few months.
But it’s funny how you grow immune to it. It’s a phrase that admittedly doesn’t mean a lot, and I know it’s said because no one really knows what to say or how to react. Scared they’ll step on eggshells.
Hopefully this article can help those unsure how to express themselves, think or feel in these times.
Because of you can do is take it one day at a time.
Now, just a warning, this may be a little bit “too much information” for some people. If you’re not wanting to read phrases involving “bleeding”, “cervix” or “vagina”, don’t read further. This article is about my cervical cancer journey and will regard women’s areas in the bluntest way.
If you would like access to heaps of more information - highly recommend the Cancer Society website.
Poster design by students for clothing bags in Radiation at Christchurch Hospital
National Cancer Institute US Diagram
My Diagnosis Story - Stage 2b Cervical Cancer
My story actually starts back around Covid in 2021. I’d been having problems with bleeding and other symptoms, so had tried going through my GP to get checked for endometriosis. My GP did a smear at the time and made comment that she was certain was cervix was the source of the bleeding. My smear came back fine, and so my GP ignored me… “just come back if symptoms persist” was written in an email to me.
Safe to say after a cancer scare I was angry. I even booked a DR’s appointment just to have a go at her. It was an emotionally turbulent time and I had to go through having the Covid vaccination just to see a private specialist. Who of course, did exactly the same thing. I had another smear, an ultrasound, and a “get the Mirena, goodbye”.
Three years later, I’d had enough of bleeding and pain and went to get the Mirena inserted.
That’s pretty much when it all was confirmed for me.
The Doctor doing the insertion could see the cancer.
I guess because I went through all that grief in 2021 that I’d already used all of my allocated emotions for the discovery. But in all honesty, I just felt EVERYTHING. All at once. And there’s just no way to really process that. It just turns into a numbness. I had many people ask me how I could be so positive in regards to it all, but I just honestly was so grateful that I FINALLY had a diagnosis after so many years of being in pain and general crap with DR’s.
My Timeline
Everything went really quickly for me after that. Within the space of Mirena appointment and my first treatment of Chemotherapy, I had probably 10 different specialist and scan based appointments over 3 weeks to a month. The following big ones are bullet pointed.
Gynae-oncological appointment and biopsy (Colposcopy)
MRI
CT
PET scan
Treatment consults
Planning CT *this is when they tattoo you in prep for radiation and was done around my week 4 of chemo with Carbo and Pacli.
The biopsy was to confirm cancerous cells, with the MRI and CT scans to see more of where everything was placed. I had the PET scan in ordered to determine whether or not my lymph nodes were affected due to inflammation. Luckily they weren’t, but must have been close. The scans ultimately showed that I had cancer across my cervix, spreading down into my vagina. My cancer is unrelated to HPV.
IV, CICC, OR PICC
These acronyms will be one of the first things you learn along your journey. Chest inserted central catheter and Peripherally inserted central catheters are types of semi-permanent intravenous line they use to take blood and give you chemo during the treatment process.
A CICC is installed on your chest, whereas a PICC is installed on your arm. Both are great options if you don’t want to get jabbed every time you have something done. I’ve truly appreciated having a CICC as I was bruising badly with each needle. My CICC has saved a lot of time and problems and will be beneficial if you have trouble with your veins.
Your oncologist will chat with you about this pretty early on but you can make the decision at any time.
Treatment Plan - Kind of What to Expect
The current way to treat cervical cancer currently is using 6 weeks of weekly chemo, 5 weeks of chemo and radiation, then 2 weeks of what is called Brachytherapy. Majority of the women in the NZ/AUS Facebook group I followed (I will link below) as well as two other women in Chemo/Radiation had the same treatment plan). They both had Stage 3b so were a bit further along than I was.
Basically, you’ll have
1 day a week of chemo drugs Carboplatin and Paclitaxel for 6 weeks.
1 day a week of chemo drug Cisplatin for 5 weeks alongside 5 days of radiation each of those weeks
2 days of Brachytherapy (overnighter in hospital) for 2 weeks.
In all honesty, I had barely any side effects for the first 6 weeks with Carbo and Pacli. I’m still really grateful that I was able to stop working during my treatment though. I was extremely tired, but still able to do basic tasks like grocery shopping and computer work. I really don’t think I could have continued my physical full time job of being a mechanic!
So if you are considering still working but really don’t know what to expect, just know that all you will want to do is sleep.
Everyone is so different with how they respond to these drugs. The other two women in the ward had it a lot worse than me - one of which experienced extreme illness, and the other was admitted into hospital for 5 days due to an infection. The former was waiting for a CT scan as of the 6th Jan due to increased pelvic pain that was persistent during radiation.
While undertaking these drugs, your cells and immune system is compromised, so you will be at risk for infection and illness.
What I experienced and When With Chemo
First 6 weeks - tiredness and fatigue
Week 4 - hair loss - you have some time before this happens!
Week 7 and 8 - nausea, fatigue and decreased white blood cell and haemoglobin levels, bowel problems, dizziness. Loss of eyebrow hairs
Week 9 and 10 - increased nausea, decreased haemoglobin levels, bowel problems, dizziness and small body shaking/tremors, pelvic pain.
CHEMOTHERAPY
We found chemo the hardest part of the process. This was the most taxing part and certainly took it’s toll on our bodies. The only real things I can advise upon during this time would be to wear comfy, loose clothing that will give access to your arms or CICC when required.
I took books with me to read while I was waiting for appointments and during chemo, but you will find that many people are always up for a chat. The chemo ward at Christchurch Hospital is an extremely positive space due to the nurses and people in it.
*the radiation waiting room has puzzles that we can contribute to if we like
NOTE
When your white blood cells and haemoglobin is below a certain level, they will want to do secondary blood tests. WBC levels can change day to day, and effect your immunity to illness. Haemoglobin carries the oxygen around your body. When WBC is low, they won’t do chemotherapy. When Haemoglobin is low, they can’t do radiation until a blood transfusion is completed.
An acceptable level of haemoglobin for continuing radiation is 93 or above. In my week 8 and 9 I was 99 count haemoglobin. This meant I could continue treatment without needing a blood transfusion.
Radiation
Radiation was by far the easiest part of the process, but the brachytherapy (internal radiation) has been the most daunting. I’ll do a section on this underneath. But basically,
You wait for your appointment,
Get called over the intercom,
Get dressed into your pants and then into the treatment room area when they are ready
Then you lie on the table and wait 10 minutes for treatment to finish.
Simple as that. Kind of.
With cervical cancer treatment, we needed to have our bladders full-ish. To make sure that radiation would not affect other areas, our bladders would need to be around 220-260mls (if I remember correctly). I was terrible at doing this and it really takes some guess work on your part as to how you can do that! If, like myself, you become a problem child for the teams, they will do an ultrasound to check your bladder so that they don’t do more scans with the machine than necessary.
UV tattoos are pricked into your skin at the Planning CT appointment so that they can see a lot more easily where to direct the radiation on the scanner at each appointment. You are lined up on the bed in accordance to where these dots will line up with everything. Mine are on each hip bone and in the centre of my pelvic area.
This was a great wee video that we were directed to in our pamphlets etc to understand the process more before going through it.
Brachytherapy Room Christchurch Hospital - All Hooked Up
Brachytherapy
The internal radiation process for cervical cancer. Honestly DO NOT google this. Reading about it and seeing imagery of internal diagrams etc just works you up something chronic. It was something I’d been talked to about several times during treatment and I was personally really worried about it and chose not to give it further worry until the time came. They give you some good resources, but it wasn’t until I talked to someone who had gone through it that my mind was put at ease.
In extremely simple terms, what happens with Brachytherapy is that
You get admitted early morning into hospital
You are drugged up/sedated and a catheter installed
They insert a device/applicator inside you
You’ll go back to a hospital room for recovery before being taken to the brachytherapy room
That device will be hooked up to a guide wire/long tube
That tube then gets hooked up to a machine
The machine makes noises for about 10 minutes
You are unhooked but kept in overnight and the radiation process repeated the next day.
Catheter and adapter is removed.
You are released home if all goes well.
Hearing it like this from someone else was extremely helpful for me.
Having gone through it, I can say it’s an uncomfortable process. The first day wasn’t too bad, but I did have problems keeping anything down and vomited a lot. This is potentially to do with the morphine and how your body reacts to it.
During the process and while you are lying down, you will have a couple of leg pumpy things attached to your lower legs. These actually make quite a bit of noise but are quite pleasant on the muscles haha. They are to make sure you won’t have any blood clots while incapacitated. I was only given one injection, but you also apparently get two jabs in the stomach for the same purpose, each day.
YOU WILL NOT BE ALLOWED TO MOVE AT ALL WHILE THE APPLICATOR AND CATHETER ARE INSIDE YOU.
Things I would suggest packing in your bag
your medications - they won’t necessarily have what your normal prescription would be
book
headphones
earplugs
sandwich or snacks
Not being able to move and being told to stay at a 20degree angle made eating actually really difficult. Even doing a sneaky bed adjustment. I was given a sandwich and chose the chicken the first day but it left a bad taste in my mouth (not saying the sandwich was bad, just that my stomach didn’t like it). I vomited a couple hours after that. Managed to get down a crumbed fish, mashed potato, peas and carrots dinner fine enough but it was a logistical nightmare trying to move the plate onto my chest and eat with a knife and fork! Having something I could have just picked up and eaten would have made life much easier.
I took a book with me but could barely read it through being unable to concentrate for prolonged periods. This is where an audio book or music might be a better option.
Mostly you’ll end up sleeping.
Facing any cancer is an emotional and physical challenge that reshapes your perspective on life, health, and resilience. Through this journey, I learned the importance of persistence in advocating for your health, finding support from professionals and peers, and taking things one day at a time. While the process is demanding, understanding what to expect and preparing for each step can make a significant difference.
To anyone navigating their own cancer journey or supporting a loved one, know that you are not alone. There are resources, communities, and medical teams ready to guide you. Lean on them, trust the process, and remember that even in the most trying times, there’s strength to be found in small victories and moments of care.
