Of all the days to be looking back over my experience of cancer, this week is special because my daughter is going to be 21. I genuinely didn’t think I’d be fortunate enough to see this day. There were many times when I bargained with the almighty, ” please just let me see her 16th, or even her 18th” (if I was feeling confident). And so it went on, bargaining with the Universe. I knew how tough the path ahead was because I had lost one of my dearest friends to breast cancer. She died just before her son’s 4th birthday so I know it doesn’t always end well. I am constantly aware of how special it is to be well, to have got through. I never take my life for granted or those within the NHS and at The Breast Cancer Haven, my friends, my family, and all the people who helped keep me alive.
Those that don’t make it are never far from my mind. My heart goes out to those who are still struggling with treatment and a life limiting diagnosis. That is why organisations like The Haven are so important and why I am so honoured to be blogging about my experiences during #breastcancerawarenessmonth as a daily personal #mypowerhour. It is incredible to me that my friends have been generous enough to read, respond and share my posts. I am so touched that some of you have felt able to make donations and even to set up a direct debit to support The Breast Cancer Haven’s work.
The above photo was taken when I first lost my hair during my first round of chemotherapy. I was about to dispose of my hair in a plastic bag and throw it in the bin. I was a bit flea bitten that day with bald patches here and there, so I just decided to pull all my hair out. It didn’t hurt as it was loose at the root and I just wanted to take it all off. It sounds very mad writing this but I just had to accept the truth of what I was experiencing. I had to let go of my identity as a longhaired blonde and just be done with it. It was a moment of sacred truth if you like, I just surrendered, accepted and embraced it. I can either experience this with shame I thought or I can love myself through it, hence the heart. I cried that shape into being, a crazy hairy heart, which I still have to this day. I didn’t know on the day that the photo was a template for the emergence of a new and visually creative life for me. In the midst of my suffering I had a ‘fine art’ moment that I was completely oblivious to. The darkest hour really was just before the dawn.
This Hairy Heart image makes me smile now; there is something fantastic and optimistic about it. I am still me despite the loss, I am having treatment, I stand a chance, and I am fighting for my life – the symbolism is so powerful. It says it is safe to let go of old ideas of myself. I didn’t know that four years after this image was taken it would have pride of place at the centre of my Fine Art Degree show (who knew).
Many women across the world are not lucky enough to have access to treatment, to education, to be as blessed as I have been. Even in the supposedly ‘developed’ world, if people cannot afford insurance they cannot access treatment. That thought horrifies me but it’s the truth. I am thankful for the commitment of a great Welshman from the valleys of South Wales. Nye Bevan founded the NHS based on the cottage hospitals established by the miners. It’s amazing that the will and actions of one committed person still saves lives to this day, including mine.
*This blog is written to support #Breast Cancer Awareness Month 2018 and the Breast Cancer Haven who helped me beat beast cancer in 2008 and in 2011 – along with the incredible team on Worthing Hospital’s Breast Cancer Ward, UK. I am SO blessed to be well today.
Donate to the Breast Cancer Haven Here
Eugenie Arrowsmith 