Stacey’s Story

As I stood there at the edge of the lake in St Bathans with my toes in the freezing cold water, I was scared, excited and grateful. Scared because the water was 4 degrees, I had set myself a goal of swimming 1000m in it. I was excited as I had been training for months, and I knew my body and mind were ready. I felt grateful because I am alive, and I have the opportunity to give it a go. I knew that whatever I did now was nowhere near as bad as walking into a surgeon’s room to find out how far my cancer had spread.

My husband and I moved to New Zealand from the UK for an outdoor, healthy, active and slower lifestyle. Life in New Zealand was and still is amazing. In 2018, aged 38, I started to feel stomach cramps and pain, and over a few months, it started to happen more frequently. It would be worse after I had eaten. I noticed that I was going to the toilet more frequently. I thought it might be due to gluten or dairy, so I watched what I was eating, and it made no difference. I tried probiotic yoghurts, and they also made no difference. Then I noticed blood in the toilet. At first, it was tiny drops.

It was a Sunday evening, and my husband had just put the children to bed. And when he came downstairs, I called him to the toilet to show him. He was concerned, and we went to A&E. So we got the children out of bed, and all four of us went to A&E.

I felt so embarrassed because having someone look at my bottom and talk about poo is embarrassing but I could feel in myself that something wasn’t right.

I spent most of the night there, and the doctor who saw me suggested I get a colonoscopy. I am very fortunate to live in Auckland, and I only waited a few weeks for an appointment. Although, I did panic and thought it was nothing and cancelled the first one. I was lucky to be rebooked a few weeks later. Now, I really regret cancelling the first one.

The colonoscopy appointment letter came in the post with the product to drink and all the information. Drinking the drink was a challenge due to the taste and the pain. The more I drank, the more pain and discomfort I was in. Once at the hospital, the nurse asked me the relevant questions about how often I go to the toilet and if the colour is clear yet, and I said no, as it wasn’t. So they tried an enema, which was so uncomfortable. I remember going into the room in so much pain, I was crying. The nurses and doctors were amazing at looking after me and were trying so hard to put me at ease. Once the camera was inside, I could see the image on the screen. I could see so much red it was scary. Then, the nurse and doctor in the room started to whisper, and I knew something was up. Due to the anaesthesia, I wasn’t really with it.

Once I was out of the room, I started to text my husband, asking him to come to pick me up as soon as possible. After dropping me off for my appointment, he went and picked the children up from school and was on his way back to pick me up.

No one would tell me anything until my husband was there, but I knew it wasn’t good.

Once my husband arrived, we were taken to a room. An amazing nurse looked after the children just outside of the room. The doctor shared what they saw and that they thought it might be cancer and gave us the relevant numbers and names. Thankfully, I was able to have a CT scan the next day, although now I had to wait a week for the appointment with the surgeon to find out how far the cancer had spread and what the next steps would be—the week seemed to be so long. My husband had been signed off work for the week, which was amazing.

We made the decision not to tell the children as they were only 7 and 9 and because we had no family in New Zealand to support them through it, especially as we were not coping ourselves. When it comes to cancer in the media and in films, people die, and there isn’t much about survival. They were probably our safety blankets as well because we had to put on a brave face around them. Not many people knew because we were protecting the children. It was a weird and crazy week as we didn’t know whether to write a bucket list of what I wanted to do, go out for lunch or sit at home and cry. Neither of us slept.

Finally, the appointment with the surgeon came around. We took the children to school and went straight to Green Lane Hospital. Again, the nurse and surgeon were amazing. I was told that the cancer hadn’t spread, and the plan was to cut out half of my bowel where the cancer was. I only had to wait a week for the surgery as well, which is amazing, and I am forever grateful for it. We told the children that I had a disease in my bowel that needed to be taken out and that I would be in the hospital for a few days. I spent the next week doing activities with the children. It was nearly Christmas, so we went to see Santa and sorted out some presents.

The 5th December came around and my husband took me to hospital. I felt so nervous and scared but again the nurses were absolutely amazing.

When I woke up, I felt fine, a bit sore, but the medicine was helping with the pain. It was amazing to see my husband. Later that afternoon, my children came to visit me. As it was December, our daughter came in wearing a Santa elf outfit, which was great and made everyone smile. I stayed in the hospital for a few days, and the nurses made my experience very comfortable. I am forever grateful and in ore for their patience and empathy.

Whilst we were away camping for the Christmas break, I got a call letting us know that I would need chemo, which was fine but a shock. Once we were back in Auckland, we went to Oncology. That was a frightening experience as it brought everything back. The waiting room showed that cancer does not discriminate as there were people of all ages, sizes and cultures. They started me on Capecitabine (Xeloda), and I was to take it for six months. I took the tablets twice a day for two weeks and then had a week off to recover.

Taking them made me feel exhausted, and my whole body felt tired. I am an active person, and I do not have the patience to sit still and do nothing, but if I did too much the next day, I was even worse. So, I had to plan my week well as I totally trusted the doctors and nurses to look after my medical health; it was down to me to look after my mental health. I went to visit the counsellors at the Cancer Society a few times to help me with some strategies.

Mentally I need to do things as I felt that I had been given a second chance at life. To catch it when I did is down to luck. I was unlucky to get cancer, but I am so lucky in many other ways. Being told you have cancer is awful, and even though it happened years ago, I am still so frustrated as I do not know how I got it. Every now and again, I get a huge wave of emotions and have a good cry. Some people tell me that it will get better with time and that there is only a small chance it will come back, but that doesn’t stop me worrying and feeling scared. Some people don’t understand as we are all different, and we deal with things differently. I find the best people to talk to are those who have had a similar experience, as it does change your outlook on things. Since recovering, I have found that swimming and keeping fit really helps me mentally. I know keeping fit won’t prevent cancer from coming back, but it will help me with chemo if it was to come back.

We did tell our children a few years later, and after a few negative test results. We explained that we wanted to protect them as we didn’t know how to handle it ourselves. They understood and asked lots of questions, which we answered. Now they are aware and understand why I am very emotional a few days before my appointments.

Last year I lost an amazing, strong, and beautiful friend to cancer. She was also English and we both enjoy ocean swimming. We became really close friends during her journey. We entered a few ocean swim events and trained together. Losing a friend to cancer really sucks. I felt so much heartbreak, anger and survivor guilt. I miss her very much.

Since her passing, I have joined an amazing ocean swimming group that meets most mornings in Auckland. Swimming with them has been inspiring as we all encourage each other, have so much fun and all love swimming. We go on fantastic swimming adventures. Recently, as part of my training for my ice swim, I have been swimming a few mornings a week at 6 a.m., so it is dark and cold! A small group of us go, and we put a bike light in our tow float so that we can be seen and see each other. Swimming in the dark is very scary, especially when the fish follow my light and touch my skin. Swimming as the sun comes up is breathtaking and the best way to start the day. I can feel the difference in my mental health as, recently, I was listening to Dean Barker share his bowel cancer story on a podcast. Normally, when I listen to someone share their cancer story, I would be in floods of tears, but this time, I wasn’t; I felt grateful for being alive rather than angry and sad for getting cancer.

Similar to my experience with my bowel surgery, for my ice swim, I had to trust the team around me. I trusted the medics, lifeguards, marshalls, watchers and process. All I had to do was focus my energy on my mindset. All I had to do was swim, turn one arm, turn the second arm and then the third and breathe. I completed the 1000m swim, yeah.

A few days after getting home from my swim, I get a text telling me that my 5-year colonoscopy check-up is due. Such a wave of frightened emotions brought tears to my eyes and made my heart race. I reminded myself that this was a check-up and that I had faith in the team at the hospital to look after me if the worst case happened. I am hoping that swimming in cold water and keeping healthy prevents cancer from returning; who knows?

Good news: I got the all-clear at my 5-year check-up.