A Year On...

Hey gorgeous people,

I woke up this morning and a strange thought crossed my mind. My god... a year ago I was having chemo! (unintentional rhyme people, I do not wake up and 'rap'). Hard to believe last July, I was bald, living in Melbourne and sick, sick, sick. Firstly, can I just say how bloody glad I am to be here! (Can I get a FUCK YEAH!). Secondly, I have no idea where the time has gone. It has literally flown by. Its a strange thing, looking back on it retrospectively and there are some things I wanted to share with you all.

After reading all the self-help, motivational and inspirational books the Cancer Society send me and well-meaning friends and co-workers pass onto me, I felt like I had finally come out the other side. That I had really, truly made it. Aside from the three monthly check ups and the five years of hormone treatments (Tamoxifen) I am on the Up, through the tunnel, hit rock bottom and now climbing back up the great metaphorical hill of life.. and all the other cliched bullshit.

And to a degree... I am. But (and yes my dear readers, there is always a BUT) sometimes I don't feel like celebrating.

Its like the strange calm after a storm. Where the wind has died down and there is nothing but the smell of lingering rain as the sky clears and you are able to finally stand there and look at the devastation caused.

I look ok on the outside. The scars have healed, my breast (albeit smaller than the other one) is still there. My hair is growing back nicely and I feel pretty good. I'm susceptible to lots of things going around (colds, flus etc) but I am told the chemo compromised my immune system so that's a bit of a no brainer.

Generally I am feeling very positive. I have made some huge changes and finally booked my ticket to the USA. I had planned to head there before I got sick and now... well, I know better than anyone not to put off till tomorrow what can be done today - or whatever the fuck that saying is.

My advice and message to people out there who know someone going through what I went through, is just because the fight is fought and the battle is won, don't stop the messages and communication. In fact, one the storm has passed, its more important than ever to show your support.

Once a cancer patient is told they're in remission, they are ushered out of the hospital that was their home over the last year. They have to say goodbye to the nurses, doctors and staff, who have been there through thick and thin. They have to say goodbye (often last goodbyes) to fellow patients, many of whom will lose their own battles and they are cast back into the wide, wide world.

There is an expectation for survivors to get back on the horse and get on with living.. but its not quite as simple as that. You do not feel as strong as you were before - in fact, you feel downright vulnerable. You feel unsure of just how much celebrating to do, in case IT comes back. Even if you are positive, like me, and excited about the future, that terrifying thought lays at the back of your mind. Like a dormant bear.. hibernating.

So, reach out again people. Never stop. You have no idea how much it means. The world can feel a big lonely place, when you are pulled out of it and reinstated 12 months later and everything has continued without you, as normal.

Really makes you question who you are and the impact you truly have.

If my friends and family are a testament to who I am... well I am pretty proud of that.

Love you all

Ems xxx