About Waiting
My cancer journey & the importance of peer support
My cancer journey & the importance of peer support
I have lived with cancer for five years now. It started in my prostate. I had treatments and then surgery to remove it, a radical prostatectomy, and then I had radiation therapy. For a while, I let myself believe it was behind me. Then, a couple of years later, I was told it had come back. This time it was in my lungs.
Right now, it seems to be under control. But I want to tell you about a part of cancer that people rarely talk about. The waiting.
Every so often, a doctor decides I need a scan. From that moment, my stress begins. I wait weeks just to be given a scan date. Often, no one tells me why the scan was ordered, so my mind fills the silence with fear. I have the scan. Then I wait weeks again for the results.
Half the time, when I finally speak to the doctor, I am simply told the scan was fine. No reason. No explanation of what they were looking for. Just "fine," and on we go.
I do not think the staff mean to be unkind. But the dread, the sleepless nights, the worry that takes over my days, none of it ever seems to be noticed. A few words would mean so much. Even the reason for the scan being explained appropriately would help.
So if you love someone going through this, please understand. The scan itself is not the worst part. It is the weeks of not knowing, over and over.
And if you are living this too, I want you to know you are not alone. I dread those words, "we need to send you for another scan," every single time. But we keep going. And that takes real strength.
FM - Regular CASC attendee
My cancer journey & the importance of peer support
My cancer journey & the importance of peer support
My cancer journey & the importance of peer support
CASC is one of several cancer peer support groups I belong to. These spaces are invaluable for sharing experiences, offering practical tips and advocating for one another. It’s fantastic that CASC now has five cafés, with plans to expand into other areas. I attend regularly to welcome newcomers and share my story, in the hope that it will support and empower others on their journeys.
I was diagnosed with cancer in June 2024. I have a rare form of lobular breast cancer, where metastatic disease spreads to the bone marrow without a clear primary tumour in the breast.
At the time, I was experiencing unmanaged diabetes and a hand tremor, and was under clinical care. My symptoms worsened until I couldn’t walk or see, and was covered in bruises. In May 2024, a blood test revealed a critically low platelet count of 14. I was admitted to hospital, where I received several platelet and blood transfusions, a CT scan and a bone marrow biopsy.