Week three of chemo is rough. I feel nauseous and hopeless. I cry when the catheter is placed as I feel so violated. Yet I must sit there. The nausea worsens, I hyperventilate and I vomit and then retch and retch.. “I just want to curl up on the floor and die.” I tell my partner.

You know things are bad when flowers arrive. After the diagnosis is confirmed bunches of flowers arrive at the door. More than when my babies were born. Busy couriers come and go to the door, parcels, cards, letters, hampers and gifts pile up. Chocolate arrives regularly, but I have no appetite. My weight dips back … Read more

And so begins two days of testing. They call it staging, in other words, how bad is it? Or, when will you die? First is a blood test. We go to a local clinic before dropping Mr 20 months to childcare. He rampages around the waiting room as my partner shepherds him towards toys. I … Read more