‘I turn up to appointments in tutus, I have a cement dog because my sister said it would be easier to care for, I pause for longer when watching the waves roll in at the beach and I don’t worry so much about what people think of me.’
Liz started her day, like every other day. She put on her scrubs, had a cup of tea, and headed to work as a nurse.
A colleague approached Liz during her shift and said he had a dream that something was wrong with her. He requested she visit her GP for a check-up.
‘To be honest, if anyone else said it to me, I would have laughed it off. But he was a great doctor, and I thought I best get checked to put his and my mind at ease.’
The peace of mind didn’t come. On 5 March 2018, Liz was diagnosed with Stage 1 Endometrial Cancera disease where abnormal cells split without control and spread to other nearby body tissue and/or organs. During stagingthe process of determining how big the cancer is, where it started and if it has spread to other areas CTs (to plan her treatment) she asked for her chest to be scanned as she had been short of breath but really put it down to not going to the gym.
‘I remember it so clearly. Probably because it’s the day my life changed forever. My GP told me I didn’t just have Stage 1 Endometrial Cancer, but I also had Stage 4 Metastatic Thymoma – two completely unrelated cancers, and one inoperable. In that moment, being a nurse was a blessing because I had some incredible contacts for treatment, and a curse because I knew instantly just how bad the outlook was.’
‘From there, it was all systems go. I was admitted to hospital for a total hysterectomycomplete or partial removal of the uterus to treat the endo cancer, which left me with surgical menopause (unexpected side effectan unintended effect of medication or treatment, is often negative or unwanted!). Following that I received 6 weeks of chemotherapya cancer treatment that uses drugs to kill or slow the growth of cancer cells, while minimising damage to healthy cells and radiology to shrink the thymoma and lung metastasiswhen the cancer has spread to other parts of the body, also known as mets so that it could be operated on.’
Toward the end of 2019, Liz appeared to be recovering well, so she started to explore her return-to-work options. A simple google of ‘rare cancers australia’ led her to our website where she connected with one of our Specialist Cancer Navigators and started to attend our thymoma support group.
‘The timing was impeccable because at the beginning of 2020, I had an unexpected but serious recurrenceto occur or happen again. The cancer was in my chest and abdomenstomach, stomach area, belly which is unusual for thymoma. Considering this, I contacted former colleagues in Sydney and flew over to have major surgerytreatment involving removal of cancerous tissue and/or tumours and a margin of healthy tissue around it to reduce recurrence after discussions with my oncologista doctor who specialises in the study, diagnosis and treatment of cancer.’
‘I had three ribs removed, a chunk of my lung taken out, abdominal resections and intraoperative heated chemotherapy. I basically glow in the dark from the amount of radiotherapy I’ve had. I am covered in scars and have some disabilities. I get in the shower and don’t recognise myself.’
Liz’s doctors were surprised by her recovery after such a major surgery, and she credits it to specialised exercise.
‘It’s fabulous. You’re monitored carefully and exercise is overseen to ensure that it’s safe and tailored to your stage of treatment. Exercise is now being recognised as a form of medicine in cancer treatment. I notice the impacts of chemo don’t last as long, my energy levels are better, and I meet people facing similar circumstances.’
Sadly, Liz’s battle with cancer is still not over. She has recently had another recurrence near her aorta and right lung – also inoperable. There are currently no clinical trialsresearch studies performed to test new treatments, tests or procedures and evaluate their effectiveness on various diseases for her cancer and if her chemotherapy stops working, she has to wait to see if a new treatment option becomes available.
‘The hardest and scariest thing about having a rare cancer is once you reach your limit, there are no more options. My cancer grows quickly, and immunotherapya treatment that uses a person's immune system to fight cancer isn’t an option. It’s simply a waiting game.’
‘After 35 years, Wednesday 31 May 2023 was officially the last day at my dream job. Working as a critical care/nurse consultant, I had a very satisfying career. I’ve lost my career and in a way my identity. Unfortunately, I never met the right man or had a family. There’s a loss of the life I used to have.’
On top of the physical and mental toll of cancer, Liz talks about some of the social struggles that she and others in the thymoma support group face.
‘You lose friends and I think it’s for a few reasons. Some don’t know how to approach it – they’re frightened about saying or doing the wrong thing. Some don’t share their own life struggles with you because they don’t want to burden you. And others are scared about losing you – they think, what happens if I get too close and she dies?’
‘But you can also have long lost friends pop back into your life and be the most amazing support. I have had that happen, and I’m also incredibly lucky to have such a beautiful family. They might not be comfortable talking about it sometimes, but my mum, dad and sister have been my rocks.’
‘My Specialist Cancer Navigator not only helps me navigate the maze of cancer, but also my relationships. She has been a great support in helping me tell family about my recurrences.’
Reflecting on her experience and what keeps her mentally strong, Liz says finding your people, putting lipstick on and having a laugh are non-negotiables.
‘Cancer is shit. But you can’t let it be doom and gloom every day. I turn up to appointments in tutus, I have a cement dog because my sister said it would be easier to care for, I pause for longer when watching the waves roll in at the beach and I don’t worry so much about what people think of me.’
‘Cancer doesn’t just involve the person directly affected. If I was going to impart wisdom on all those who may be or are touched by cancer it would be;
If you feel something isn’t right, get it checked. If you don’t get an answer, get it checked again.
If you have cancer, find the right people, your people.
If you want to support someone with cancer, don’t be frightened about saying the right or wrong thing. And if you are, just say that. I guarantee they’ll love you for it.
And dance, always dance…’