Stéphanie, 30 years old
In early September 2014, I started to feel a slight pain in my appendix. I didn’t think much of it, but my friends and colleagues thought I looked really unwell and insisted that I see a doctor. The general practitioner sent me for an ultrasound the next day. The person who performed the exam had a look on their face that I didn’t like… they discovered a large mass in my appendix. The next day, I had an emergency MRI, where I was told that I had a 9 cm cyst. It wasn’t serious, but it needed to be removed. I decided to go home to have the operation so I could be close to my family. On September 12, I had an appointment with a professor of digestive surgery. Within five minutes, the diagnosis was made. It wasn’t a cyst but an appendicular mucocele.
I didn’t really understand what was going on, but in any case, I had emergency surgery just a few hours later. I was brought back from the operating room at 11:00 p.m. with bad news: laparoscopy had not been possible. They had to open me up. The tumor had already perforated, and I had gelatin (cancer cells) throughout my peritoneum. They also had to remove part of my colon. I had absolutely no idea that what I had was serious! I was in pain but didn’t complain too much and spent the next few days getting back on my feet because lying down was unbearable. My parents came to see me on Sunday.
The surgeon came into the room and then it happened… the words came out. You have low-grade cancer. You’ll need to have chemotherapy. The procedure is called HIPC. (Intraperitoneal Hyperthermic Chemotherapy). I find the name really funny and joke that I’m going to have a 6-hour “HIPEC”. The doctors explain the details of this major procedure to me. I’m laughing a lot less now and I’m scared to death, but I know it’s the only way to get better!
I only have one fear… that they will open up my stomach again! I am also afraid of the risk of hernia, as I am very athletic and do a lot of horseback riding. I see all my life plans gradually disappearing… Life will never be the same again! The wait is long… I won’t have the HIPEC surgery until November 3, 2014, six weeks after the first operation. The HIPEC will last nine hours. The disease has returned since September… which was not part of the plan at all.
The surgeon performs a laparoscopy (a first for her for this type of procedure) but decides to remove half of my colon as a precaution.
I woke up feeling fine… I was in good shape… but it didn’t last! Two days later, I was in intensive care and didn’t even have the strength to move or speak… it was the after-effects of the chemo… I was a zombie. The week in intensive care was no picnic, but you don’t get to decide anything… you just follow the protocol.
After a week, I’m standing up on my own and they move me to another ward. That’s when the battle begins… Getting my strength back… it’s hard, but if I want to go home to my parents… I have to eat! So I was discharged after 15 days! The weeks that followed were long. No real progress and still very sick as soon as I eat anything (even rice). My morale takes a hit… that’s it… I finally accept what’s happening to me. I had cancer… damn crab!
The biopsy results are good and the surgeons are fairly optimistic. Every day is a victory. Taking a shower on my own, climbing the stairs, walking a few meters outside. Then, after a few weeks… driving a few miles on my own, seeing two or three friends.
The slightest thing tires me, but I’m still alive and that’s what matters. I’ve lost 10 kg, I’m anemic and my white blood cells aren’t in great shape… but I’m alive! I’m writing to you five months later. I’m going back to work in ten days on a part-time therapeutic basis.
My next check-up at the hospital is in five months. I will be monitored for ten years and I don’t want to live with a sword of Damocles hanging over my head… so I’m living my life… which has taken on a whole new meaning since this ordeal!
I wanted to share my story to thank all the people who supported me—doctors, family, friends, colleagues—because we mustn’t forget that the most important thing when fighting an illness… is morale… I remained optimistic after every piece of bad news because I was surrounded by wonderful people! So, to those of you around us who believe that you are powerless in the face of illness… that is a misconception… you have a very special role to play in supporting your loved ones through the difficult ordeal of illness.