Ovacome Summer 2014

postbag
The comfort of words
The Ovacome newsletter was my first link to other ladies who had been diagnosed
with ovarian cancer, when I myself was diagnosed with stage 3c of the disease in
May 2013.
Reading other people’s stories gave
me hope and made me realise that
for many of us life does go on. So it
was interesting to attend Ovacome’s
members’ day this year and meet some
of those people and the team who
compile the newsletter.
We all know the frustrations of being
first diagnosed and learning that the
cancer has been there a while and
for many of us that it has spread. But
what was heartening to hear was that
the treatment of ovarian cancer has
improved considerably over the past
10 years and scientists and doctors seem
to be on the verge of new treatments.
Fingers crossed we will be enjoying life
despite the cancer for years to come.
What I also learned at the members’
day was that several people were quite
young when diagnosed - and there
was me thinking that it only affected
older women. I was aged 65. It was my
youngest of three boys’ birthdays!
I have been lucky on my journey
with having few side effects from the
chemotherapy - neuropathy in my feet
is uncomfortable, but not painful and
having mouth ulcers and losing my hair
was tolerable. I now have a wonderful
collection of caps and scarves.
I was given four doses of Carboplatin
and Paclitaxel, followed by debulking
surgery - on my second son’s birthday
- and two more rounds of the same
chemotherapy.
From February this year I have been on
caelyx. This seems to be working and
my hair is growing back. I just hope
my immune system doesn’t collapse
again and that I don’t have to have any
more fluid drained from my abdomen or
pleural cavity.
We all have a different wish list
of things we want to do. One
thing I would like to do is see my
grandchildren become adults.
My 16-year-old granddaughter has
set me a challenge to write a book
of poetry - well it is more likely to
be a booklet. My first attempt was
about cancer and was written in the
Living in the moment
Jenny Hayes: ‘I feel
like I’m on parole.’
chemotherapy unit while having my
fourth of six doses of caelyx.
As a semiretired
teacher of
English as
a foreign
language
I love
language
and find
writing poetry
cathartic.
Sometimes
poetry has
a deeper
meaning than
other writing
and it allows you to say things that you
can’t any other way.
Let me throw out a challenge to you
all to have a go and write a poem.
Maybe we can publish some in the
next magazine.
Send me yours to pat_abra@hotmail.com
Pat Abra, Margate, Kent.
was diagnosed in 2007 with breast cancer. My treatment was radiotherapy and tamoxifen with three
I monthly checks with my oncologist. At that time I felt my oncologist was my knight in shining armour.
Every visit to him, with his kind voice and caring personality, gave me another three months, then six
months and eventually a whole year of freedom to live and plan for the future. I took every opportunity to
enjoy life after breast cancer.
Then in 2012 I was
diagnosed with
ovarian cancer,
stage 3c, with the
added bonus of being BRCA 2 positive.
I was given chemotherapy and some
hard to swallow statistics.
As a result, I make carefully chosen
plans for the future. I avoid getting
into a relationship with a partner, and
although I would love to, I won’t get
another dog.
Now I view my oncologist as my prison
parole officer. I see him every three
months and he gives me another three
months to get on with things. Parole,
yippee! Now that does make me live in
the moment.
Pat Abra: writing poetry
can be cathartic.
I’m fortunate that I run a couple of
businesses which affords me to shop till
I drop and if I want cheering up and see
something I want, I will buy it.
I am ‘on parole’ just now with my body
behaving. I’ve just returned from a holiday
to Dubai and I will eat cake today.
Jenny Hayes, Leighton Buzzard,
Bedfordshire.
it together
Phone Ovacome’s nurse led support line on 0845 371 0554 15