'I've had cancer for 13 years but I'm lucky – don't ignore these changes in your body'

MIRROR

It’s been 13 years since Emma Campbell was first told she had breast cancer. In those years, she’s had two further diagnoses, raised four children, suffered heartbreak and lost a number of loved ones, including her dear friend Dame Deborah James.

The mum has been on a terrifying journey but despite the fact that she’s going to live with cancer and have chemotherapy treatment for the rest of her life, she claims she’s lucky. On World Cancer Day, she explains in her own words what it’s been like to live with the disease for so long and shares the changes she’s experienced in her body that you shouldn’t ignore.

How’s life?

It’s one of those throwaway questions, isn’t it? A polite pleasantry, a casual exchange. But how often do we really give an honest answer? And for those of us living with cancer – we’re all too aware that the answer can change in a moment.

I’ve been a cancer patient for nearly thirteen years. I’m a patient for life. I won’t get to ring the bell or raise a glass to celebrate the end of treatment but I’m here, currently stable, on regular targeted chemotherapy and doing well. I’m one of the lucky ones.

I’ve had a fair amount of drama over the last decade or so. From an initial diagnosis back in 2010 (whilst navigating life as a newly single mum of triplets and their big brother) to being told I had secondary breast cancer at the end of 2014.

There have been months, even years at a time, when I didn’t know whether I was coming or going – life was happening to me and I very rarely felt in charge of my own destiny.

One of the biggest life lessons I’ve learned over the last few years, as I’ve also navigated diagnosis number three, grieved the loss of dear friends and my own personal heartbreak – is that community and connection is everything. It’s the difference between surviving, treading water and barely scraping through to finding a way to thrive, to truly live – despite the challenges we face.

They say it takes a village to raise a child (or in my case, a town to help raise triplets!) well, it takes a community to find a way of coming to terms with a cancer diagnosis.

It’s the shared vocabulary, the emotional safety and the priceless gift of finding those who are able to hold you when you crumble, no words necessary, just gentle, steady holding. If we’re lucky, the right friends and family members are able to offer that support but it’s also okay to look beyond – there are so many of us who are also just putting one foot in front of the other each day, often tripping and stumbling but also striding and skipping too.