Future Dreams

This time last year I was halfway through 8 rounds of chemo.

In some moments, it feels like it happened yesterday, in others, like it never happened at all.

I made a short movie from diagnosis-remission, 7 months condensed into 20 minutes. If you have time, please watch, and if you don’t have time, please consider donating to Future Dreams.

Future Dreams funds vital research for secondary breast cancer. This is when cancer has metastasised (spread) to another part of the body, like mine has, to my breastbone. Once it has metastasised it can no longer be cured, however it can be controlled and with new and improved treatments people are living longer. As well as improving the future of breast cancer care, Future Dreams is bettering the present of many breast cancer patients, with it’s one-of-a-kind headquarters in Kings Cross, London, that you actually look forward to spending time in. There is nothing clinical or medical about it, and they offer free, fun and engaging workshops for anyone affected by the disease.

For those at the beginning of it all, perhaps it will be a comfort to know that for me, at least, the beginning, and strangely perhaps the end, were the hardest parts of all. Although chemotherapy is not fun or to be desired, other aspects of life do continue. Buoyancy props you up and floats you through the emptiness of chemo. At the beginning however, I felt paralysed by the uncertainty and lack of knowledge, with people telling me what to do without me having a real understanding as to why. Giving up agency of your body and replacing it with trust in others to do what they think is best, is overwhelming. The beginning is wavy, but by the time chemo starts hopefully you’ll have learnt to control the mast and sail the waves! Tricky, but you at least are more in control.  By contrast, I found the end of chemotherapy underwhelming. You can feel a little stranded and lost once all the commotion stops. But then, slowly and surely I found myself stepping back into my own body, a haze lifting and a feeling of abundance returning. Life is warm and sweet again! 

I’m aware that my experience was a relatively lucky one. 8 rounds of chemo to anyone without cancer sounds unbearable, but during this month of breast cancer awareness, I’m thinking of the people who had different results from me, and are still in turmoil. 

I wasn’t quite sure where or what I wanted to do with these videos, but instinctively felt like it was a process I’d want recorded, ideally to be of some use to someone someday. I hungrily sought help and advice from anywhere I could find it at the beginning, but struggled to be helpful to others; I felt I was learning on the job while navigating my way through some serious disillusionment. Then, when things got “interesting” and chemo began, I started to use videos as a means of staying in touch with friends, both far away and closer by. Covid added another cruel element to the whole thing, as no guests were allowed into the chemo ward. Ironically though, multiple lock downs had me prepared for what the chemo months would be like.

So! A year on, and I’m healthy, strong, and passionate about life.

I want to encourage others to always be aware of their own bodies and always appreciate life as it is right now. Thank you for watching!