Nicky's Story
"A hospital bed is no place to celebrate Christmas.”
But that was where I ended up in 2017, having chemotherapy for cancer. I was too weak to go shopping for presents for my husband and my four kids. Too exhausted to celebrate properly with my family. Instead, I was stuck on a ward, terrified that I’d never celebrate Christmas again.
Before my diagnosis, I’d been an active and busy mum. I’d just celebrated my 40th birthday, and started a new job. I’d always worked, always kept fit, and always done everything for my family. Cancer took all of that away from me.
During this time, my family were amazing. They looked after me — helping me get dressed and assisting with my feeding tube. But they couldn’t be with me all the time. Alone and unable to go out, I started to spiral downwards into depression.
I had been so focused on getting through chemotherapy and surgery, I never thought about what would happen after my treatment.
Now I was facing the possibility that for the rest of my life, I might have to be fed through a tube. I had to try and accept that I’d never go back to being the active person I once was. The future was terrifying.
That all changed when I came to Thistle.
Even during my darkest moments, I knew that if I could just talk to someone about how frightened I was, then I could get better. When my doctor referred me to Thistle, Sophie* became that someone. Together we talked through all my fears and suddenly I didn’t have to face them alone.
As my Wellbeing Practitioner at Thistle, Donna* helped me get moving when cancer brought my life to a standstill. With her support, I got out of the house to try some gentle exercise. I started walking and cycling.
Life still isn’t easy. But with people I can turn to, the fear of cancer no longer consumes every minute of every day. Now I try to focus on enjoying the moment. I can’t change the future, and the fact is that many people with my diagnosis don’t survive beyond ten years. What’s changed is that I have the ongoing support I need to get on with my life.