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I’D LOVE TO tell you that this post will be well-written, lyrical and introspective on life, death and illness. Unfortunately that’s not what I’m going to write here. I’ve tried, and it’s just not my voice. Also, as I’ve been repeating to myself for weeks now, I’m not dying.
It’s been three weeks since I was diagnosed with stage one Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and I look forward to waking up from this highly elaborate dream of hospital waiting rooms, tiny vials of my blood and upset relatives.
The most famous disease of all
It’s been three weeks since my biopsy showed surprise swellings in my neck; happy birthday to my boyfriend, who turned 25 two days beforehand. Welcome to the Cancer Club. It’s been three weeks since I sat in St Vincent’s Hospital eating a Mint Crisp, wondering what the fuck to do next.
It’s been three weeks since I, a reasonably healthy young person, got slapped with arguably the most famous disease of all despite feeling absolutely grand. Not a single symptom has slowed me down the past few months, and the small lump in my neck was something I cheerfully ignored for weeks. And yet, I’ve been subject to numerous tests since D-Day, from a scan that made me radioactive to a breath test that had me sit in a box breathing into a space age looking tube.
I’ve had surgery that left me nauseous and in pain for weeks. And in a few days, I am starting literal chemotherapy.
Counting the days
In between these super fun appointments, I’ve called friends, something so comically terrible that I may need to write another post about it. I’ve read books, I’ve spent more money than is justifiable on clothes and makeup. But mostly, I’ve just sat about waiting for chemotherapy to start. Counting the days.
The nurses have been very kind, telling me to take this time to “get my head around things”, but to be honest I’m not sure where to start. I don’t know how to focus on this one big thing so instead I think about the little things. W–ill yellow still suit me when I lose my dark hair? What can/can’t I eat? How will my Leaving Cert history teacher feel when he hears?
Cancer as a freewheeling, space-invading concept feels impossible to think about. As someone who has always written problems down, this one seems insurmountable, a much bigger deal than terrible boyfriends or dissertation deadlines. I can’t journal about it, and right now I feel almost light-headed at my need to abandon this stupid blogpost, because “I don’t need the stress”. Talking about it is hard, too — once you start, it becomes very hard to stop, and suddenly people are avoiding you, their cancer friend. Which I totally get, to be honest.
But I have to climb this insurmountable hill. I have to get my head around it, as it were. Because one of the many things that bother me about my new situation is that I don’t have a choice in the matter. I have to get my head around things, things like self-administered injections, things like losing my hair, things like losing six months of my normal life to various different therapies. Yikes.
But all I can do is keep normalising it, keep talking about it, keep writing about it.
Áine O’Connell is from Kildare. She’s now living in Dublin, with three pals and two cats. She’s a recent graduate of Trinity College and was diagnosed with cancer a month ago. She works as a copywriter and volunteers with SpunOut.ie in her free time. You can follow Áine on Twitter @himynameisaine and on her blog.
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Welcome to the club, the thing is Aine you have been diagnosed early and you will get excellent treatment. I was stage three last August with the same condition and underwent biopsies followed by chemo.. The main thing is to stay positive and follow the guidance of your consultant doctor and hospital staff. The months of chemo treatment will stop the spread of the disease, it will also probably turn you off certain foods for a while, but don’t worry, keep positive and go with the flow. Thousands of people in Ireland get diagnosed with cancer every year and get cured.
@Chris Kirk: hope you’re doing well
@Chris Kirk: .Hey Chris kick cancer butt.
@Dave O Keeffe: Thanks mate, it feels like the battle has been won, but can’t take any chances. I just want other sufferers to think positive and overcome their fears of the unknown – we have some of the best medical treatment and doctors in the world, trust me.
@Chris Kirk: Stage 3 when i was 17. I am 33 now and still kicking :D. Stay strong :)
Good luck in your journey Áine, Stay strong respect!
Your true friends will shine for you, not avoid you. You will overcome and put this tough time behind you and be a stronger person for it.
you know its not an easy subject to talk about regarding people with cancer, my mum would not discuss it at all, she was dying unfortunately but did not want hear anything about that part of the diagnoses. tuned out from the doctor when he would try tell her, each individual is unique and its difficult for other to know what is acceptable to discuss with them. best of luck with you treatment..
Best of luck on your journey aine stay positive no matter how hard things you are brave & will overcome this you have the rest of your life ahead of you xxx
The hill isn’t insurmountable. It’s just a slog. Take it one step at a time and you’ll find yourself adapting, then laughing at watching yourself adapting. Stay positive. The view from the top of the hill is amazing.
Oh, and if the steroids stop you sleeping, try magnesium.
Stay strong and fight your ass off, you can beat it. I’m 31 and now 18 months in remission from a Stage 3 Hodgkins Lymphoma. Like you, no symptoms, a lump on the neck, numerous tests and an 8 month stint in St. Vincent’s. I’m still here. Stay strong, keep your eye on the end game and refuse to give up. You’ll get there and eventually you’ll be like me, healthy with it all behind you and a new perspective on life. Best of luck, you can do it.
Wow what a brilliant well written article thanks so much for articulating how happy feel my friend is in same boat but I’m in it as well holding her hand I hope I do enough just to be with her while she struggles with this xxx
I think that your story applies to most types of illness but I can say that neighbours,and close family support can help you during the time when you are vulnerable and unsure. Illness is very difficult and many friends and family members do not cope well with it. I can even say that some family and close friends distance the self at a time when you need them most. I thank you for being grave enough to have to courage to speak out. If you need a shoulder at any time please keep writing .
Aine, i joined the club in 1999 had surgery and radiotherapy and for a year all was well and then a second tumour appeared, had chemo then another course of radiotherapy, I’m not going to say it was easy,and there were some very bad days but you get through. Stay strong and keep positive, hope you have a long and happy life.
The good news is Aine that it was got early and you will get great care until its gone. Im recovering from stage 2 cancer. The survival rates and treatment are getting better all the time. Try to stay positive, it really helps but not always easy. You will be on the road to recovery in no time.
Brave brave girl. I wish u the best of luck… keep strong x
Great writing Aine, you really caught the way cancer un-tethers a person from their normal life and sends the mind spinning and tumbling. My husband of 40 years was recentlydiagnosed with stage 4 Hodgkins Lymphoma recently which was a five week long ordeal in itself and the result is our lives are in turmoil. It is so hard to get our heads around what is happening and that we have, to a great extent, lost control of our lives and have to rely on the expertise of others, hanging on to and privately parsing their words to find a glimpse of what the future holds. Good luck with your treatment and i look forward to reading more of your blogs. Unbelievably, my nephew’s wife was diagnosed with Lymphoma a week before my husband and she is being treated at St Vincents right now.
Hey Aine. I was diagnosed with a nasty version of lymphoma (HSTCL) five years ago but am still here annoying people. Yours shouldn’t be quite as disgusting. I amn’t ‘spiritual’, but I really do believe that being positive and optimistic can make all the difference. Take the drugs, do the chemo, but don’t let the medical and clinical treatment be so torpid and moderate that you’ll lose the will to grow old lengthily….
Welcome to the Club… I just want to applaud you and Thank you for not shying away from how you really feel about cancer and being diagnosed. I was diagnosed in 2014 with Thyroid Cancer and since being diagnosed all I’ve heard is that it’s the good cancer to have. No cancer is a good cancer. I look forward to reading more about your journey. Stay strong, stay positive x
The very best Aine. You caught it early and hopefully will be fine after enduring the vicissitudes of treatment. Keep writing. Keep strong.
I’m really glad to hear that your diagnosis is positive. You will find out over the course of your treatment just who your real friends are, and you may be very surprised at who is still standing by your side in a few months/years.
Try to remember to do what you need to get through your treatment. This is about you and your survival (both mental and physical) and not the people around you.
Best of luck to you.
Never suffered with cancer but have lost plenty of friends to it. You write passionately, articulately, kick-ass style and with soooo much courage and bravery. I wish you all the best and can imagine you inspiring fellow sufferers, survivors of lost loved ones and perhaps becoming a life-style coach. Respect from me too.
Aine you have such amazing strength to be able to share your journey through this with everyone. I can only imagine how you and your family are coping day to day. Please send them all my love.
I will be following your every blog post from Melbourne and wishing you (even more) strength and perseverance xx
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