I had eight years of check-ups, operations, infusions, hormone therapies and scan after scan, and I hoped beyond all hope that, by doing ‘everything right’, my turn had passed.

My confidence was beginning to grow again, that life could be normal and that I could let myself look beyond the immediate term. I remember feeling more light hearted for the first time in a long time and having the first career development conversation I’d had in years, feeling excited about the future.

And then it happened again and this time incurable. It felt devastating to receive that call and I felt terrified and numb for a long time after.

Every little thing felt like a jolt – would I be here to see my daughter start high school, would I be here for the next Mother’s Day, would I be here to hear about my son’s school results or meet his first girlfriend?

At work, being stuck at home with restricted mobility made things even worse as I had no normal life and no strength to deal with the emotions of those around me who desperately wanted to make this better. With the help of my colleagues, I was set up to work remotely using video in addition to email and phone.

All my meetings were turned into calls, even lengthy workshops which I facilitated from home. I worked for eight weeks from my dining table and delivered everything I needed to. That gave me a sense of normality which I so desperately needed, as well as flexibility to have radiotherapy and to get established on new treatments.

Emotionally, I turned to the Maggie's Centres, knowing that mental strength was within my control and would help me to keep life ‘normal’ for my two children. I learned some simple things to ground myself when it all felt overwhelming. I had a safe place to cry and scream and then leave, ready to tackle things afresh.

I was told that there is potential for me to be healthy and operating as I was for a good number of years. But what did that really mean? Treatments don’t always work and have to be changed, the disease itself has a mind of its own and the rest of your body can be impacted in ways which can’t be anticipated. So, work with your colleague, adapting as things stabilise or change. Your colleague is learning how to get their head around the fact that their future is so uncertain. That means there will be up days and down – very down – days. Just acknowledging this can help.

Dealing with everyone else’s reaction is tough. Maggie’s helped me to think about what I needed from my colleagues at this new stage and to articulate this very clearly. While I’ve not hidden my diagnosis, I also don’t openly speak of it all the time and that’s what’s been right for me personally. Some people need, or want, to bow out of work now and that’s ok. Help them leave in a supported way so they know they’ve made a difference. Just walk in their shoes for a moment and you’ll know what’s needed.

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I had eight years of check-ups, operations, infusions, hormone therapies and scan after scan, and I hoped beyond all hope that, by doing ‘everything right’, my turn had passed.

My confidence was beginning to grow again, that life could be normal and that I could let myself look beyond the immediate term. I remember feeling more light hearted for the first time in a long time and having the first career development conversation I’d had in years, feeling excited about the future.

And then it happened again and this time incurable. It felt devastating to receive that call and I felt terrified and numb for a long time after.

Every little thing felt like a jolt – would I be here to see my daughter start high school, would I be here for the next Mother’s Day, would I be here to hear about my son’s school results or meet his first girlfriend?

At work, being stuck at home with restricted mobility made things even worse as I had no normal life and no strength to deal with the emotions of those around me who desperately wanted to make this better. With the help of my colleagues, I was set up to work remotely using video in addition to email and phone.

All my meetings were turned into calls, even lengthy workshops which I facilitated from home. I worked for eight weeks from my dining table and delivered everything I needed to. That gave me a sense of normality which I so desperately needed, as well as flexibility to have radiotherapy and to get established on new treatments.

Emotionally, I turned to the Maggie's Centres, knowing that mental strength was within my control and would help me to keep life ‘normal’ for my two children. I learned some simple things to ground myself when it all felt overwhelming. I had a safe place to cry and scream and then leave, ready to tackle things afresh.

I was told that there is potential for me to be healthy and operating as I was for a good number of years. But what did that really mean? Treatments don’t always work and have to be changed, the disease itself has a mind of its own and the rest of your body can be impacted in ways which can’t be anticipated. So, work with your colleague, adapting as things stabilise or change. Your colleague is learning how to get their head around the fact that their future is so uncertain. That means there will be up days and down – very down – days. Just acknowledging this can help.

Dealing with everyone else’s reaction is tough. Maggie’s helped me to think about what I needed from my colleagues at this new stage and to articulate this very clearly. While I’ve not hidden my diagnosis, I also don’t openly speak of it all the time and that’s what’s been right for me personally. Some people need, or want, to bow out of work now and that’s ok. Help them leave in a supported way so they know they’ve made a difference. Just walk in their shoes for a moment and you’ll know what’s needed.

‍