CoppaFeel! founder Kris Hallenga shares what it’s really like to live with cancer
KRIS reveals she recently got back on track with her own cancer after getting some bad news a few months ago
THIS column serves so many purposes. It teaches you about what it is to live a life with cancer, shares the goings on of a life-saving breast cancer charity, gives me an opportunity to talk about my cat obsession and ultimately lets me remind you to check your boobs.
If you are a regular reader, you’ll know on the whole I focus on positive stuff. That’s because most of the time I am well, getting on with life and cancer doesn’t really obstruct my plans.
I think it’s important to be honest at all times, so that I don’t paint only a pretty picture of having this disease, no matter how well I seem to be coping on meds and the fact I am surviving it longer than most.
You deserve the full picture. What’s the point in leaving out the rubbish bits?
In January I was told my cancer was progressing, in my liver and my brain.
This sent me in to a tailspin because I wasn’t expecting bad news. In fact, as I spent time on holiday in Sri Lanka and Hawaii, I felt the best I had in a while.
I found it hard to believe I’d managed to sprout quite a few new brain lesions in that time.
A new plan was needed, in which I sought the help of new people who could help me physically and mentally. I had to carve out a new path, say no to certain treatments and yes to others.
Anyone with cancer will know there is no clear route to getting better. One thing that may work for one person can have the opposite effect on another.
Fast forward three months and after brain treatment involving zapping 15 tumours and a change of drug to help my liver, I got the news that my cancer is once again stable.
I am not sure I’d be telling you this if I hadn’t got positive news last week.
But while I want to share good news and the struggle it’s taken to get here, I want to reiterate this has been my life for nine years.
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You are never out of the woods. But what I can now do with a mere morsel of good news is breathe again. My shoulders feel lighter and I can stop going mad with every small pain I feel.
I am tired but it’s not the cancer that is exhausting me. It’s the constant need to be switched on, to think one step ahead of cancer, learn how to cope, guide my way to being OK with whatever might happen.
This is the stuff they don’t tell you. While I still have cancer, and I’m every bit as screwed as I was nine years ago, I will relish this day with a renewed outlook and a much fuller pair of lungs. Until next time.