If Ovarian Cancer Is Whispering, Are You Listening?

Part 14: Epilogue

Looking out at the world is a little different after a cancer diagnosis. It reminds me of my son, who, when he was very young, always used to want me to sit in the bathroom with him while he did his business. I found this cute and usually enjoyed our toilet visits, but sometimes it wasn’t welcome…

Part 13: Not Bad — Just Older, Chemo 6

On the morning of my last chemo, Bruce showed me what he had bought as a gift for Dr. H and my nurse: two double magnums of red wine and two boxes of chocolates. I said, “They work in a cancer centre. They’re probably tee-totalling sugar-free vegans.” I meant it…

Part 12: Angry Eyebrows, Chemo 5

My grumpiness persisted and I struggled to push through the difficult winter blues. I maintained my morning walking routine — now through the February snow — followed by a cold dip, and I continued to work. These things and my family were my rock — something to hold onto…

Part 11: Going on a Bear Hunt, Chemo 4

Preparing for my fist chemo of the New Year, I was holding a hot water bottle in the crook of my arm, warming up my veins so they would be easier to access. The kids were upstairs getting dressed for school, and Bruce was pottering around the kitchen. I was…

Part 10: A Cup of Soup. Chemo 3

On Christmas morning, the boys were up early — of course! Both sat before a giant pile of presents, too big to fit under the tree. Bruce…

Part 9: Life Insurance, Chemo 2

I wanted to continue to work. I didn’t want to recede from life into a bubble of cancer treatments. However, I was also unable to predict my future state. I couldn’t decide if, from a business perspective, it was better for me to stop working so they could replace me with a…

Part 8: Shampoo and Tampons, Chemo 1

My last meal was Saturday dinner. Tuesday morning I packed my chemo bag. At the chemo centre, they took blood from my finger to measure my white blood cells, red blood cells, leukocytes and iron (and about 20 other things) to make sure I was strong enough to go…

Part 7: Paperbags Underfoot

I had trouble eating while I was in the hospital. Being home was no different. Even half a cup of clear broth could feel like an intestinal blockage, and I made three separate phone calls to my doctors, tearfully explaining that I couldn’t eat. I felt like I was starving. The…

Part 6: I’ll Take It

Bruce and the kids landed back in Zurich on Wednesday, exactly two weeks since that fateful call in Coop and five sleeps since my surgery.

The lead surgeon, Dr. B, came to see me later that day. She announced that she came with news, and then she shared the…