Looking back, I realize that my cancer journey began long before I received my diagnosis. It started with all those missed Pap smears during my nine years abroad.
From age 27, I lived an adventurous life overseas. I spent four years in Poland, a year in Ukraine, and then moved around quite a bit, including time in England. It was exciting and fulfilling, but it also meant I didn’t have a regular doctor.
As women, we’re supposed to get Pap smears every two years between ages 18 and 65, but living abroad made this challenging.
At 33, started getting tested again, but the results were always inconclusive. I wasn’t clear at the time what this meant or whether I should be concerned. And the doctors didn’t seem particularly worried, so I continued on with my life, thinking everything was fine.
Coming home, getting answers
When I returned to Canada in 2016, I was fortunate to get a family doctor, which is unusual these days. She referred me to a gynecologist. I underwent another Pap smear, and this one came back abnormal.
That’s when they told me I needed a LEEP procedure. It’s when they use a loop of thin wire to remove abnormal tissue from the cervix and test it for cancer.
The procedure was extremely painful, but it was necessary. The results? Cancerous cells.
That’s how I found out that I had early-stage cervical cancer. I was 38, and I was completely shocked, not to mention scared. I remember thinking, “But I’m so young! This isn’t supposed to happen to somebody so young.”
My gynecologist was incredibly compassionate. She gave space to take it in. She stepped out of the room so I could call someone who might help me deal with the situation.
I was in tears. The first person I called was my mom. She didn’t know how to react. She wanted to speak with my doctor, which they arranged once the doctor came back.
Choosing a path
Because I was in the early stages, I had three options of varying severity.
- A cone biopsy, where they only take away part of the cervix.
- A simple trachelectomy, where they remove the entire cervix and pelvic lymph nodes.
- A hysterectomy.
I chose the trachelectomy.
I had my surgery in February 2019, and I had an incredibly difficult recovery.
I bled quite a lot. I was angry and frustrated that I wasn’t recovering as fast as I thought I should.
I’m a very active person, but I could only walk for five minutes at a time before having to rest. I had to start very, very gradually.
During that time, my partner stuck by my side and was there through all of the tears. I also saw a psychologist who suggested Hope & Cope. That’s when things started shifting.
Finding others like me
At Hope & Cope, I met other women who had faced more advanced diagnoses.
Their stories gave me perspective and strength, even if most of them had breast cancer, not cervical. I felt different, but I didn’t feel alone.
I was lucky because I never needed chemotherapy or radiation.
But a year after surgery, something else happened. A fibroid started growing fast. It pressed right up against my uterus and grew to the size of a grapefruit. I needed another surgery.
Two years. Two surgeries.
This time I chose the hysterectomy, partly because of the cancer I had but also my family history of cancer.
A new outlook
This experience changed me. It felt unfair to be so young and receive a cancer diagnosis, but I’m grateful. Amazing doctors caught the cancer early and saved my life.
And I don’t want to waste that life.
For me, living fully means travelling and seeing the world as much as I can. Last year I went to Japan, and soon I’m off to England. That’s what I’m meant to do.
I don’t have children, partly because of what I went through. But I believe everything happens for a reason.
What I want people to know
If you’re going through cancer, please know this: you’re not alone. Reach out and let people in. Support makes a difference.
And no matter your age, get tested. Get the Pap smears and the HPV vaccine if you’re young enough (typically they need to start at age 21).
I didn’t have access to the vaccine when I was younger, but you do. And it can save your life.
Early detection saved mine.
Cancer doesn’t have to define you, and it might just help you redefine what matters most.
