Online exclusive
What’s It Like To Be is a regular online column in which New Zealanders from all walks of life share first-hand experiences. Here, Paulette Crowley talks to Wendy Gerritsen about living with ovarian cancer, which kills one NZ woman every two days. February is Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month.
“I’ve just turned 55 – it’s a birthday I never thought I’d see. Life’s an adventure – you never know what’s going to get thrown at you. I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life – sewing machinist, a bus driver and a teacher. I’ve also been an adventure cave guide. My adventure with ovarian cancer began when I was 51, when I was working on a pig farm. I grew up on a farm, where my love for animals began.
The cancer symptoms - being tired and losing weight - were explained away by the work I was doing; other symptoms were overlooked because of my medical history.
First came the incontinence. “Oh crap,” I thought. “Well, I’m over 50, so I suppose these sorts of things start to happen.” Then, my stomach got quite bloated. I looked pregnant, which wasn’t possible. My daughter and I had a bit of a giggle about it. It grew so big that I couldn’t bend over to tie my shoes.
I hadn’t had good experience with doctors – I felt they never listened to me and didn’t trust them - but I knew there was something serious going on and found a fantastic doctor. Within 20 minutes of me leaving the clinic, the ultrasound people rang to book me in as soon as possible.
The scan came back showing a large growth on my left ovary. I was told to go to A&E if I had any flu-like symptoms or felt sick. To my surprise about a week later, I started feeling sick. The hospital gave me a scan and anti-nausea meds. My appointments for scans and biopsies were fast-tracked. I can hardly remember that time, it all happened super-fast.
A few days later they drained 7 litres of fluid [ascites] from my abdomen. They said it would come back but I was absolutely stoked because I could get back on my horse, who I had been breaking in.
But over the next week, I literally watched my stomach grow again. A week later I was vomiting a lot and was admitted to hospital to get my stomach drained for the second time. I think they got about 5 litres off me. It was horrendous.
My specialist told me that chemotherapy was the only thing to stop the fluid returning. They still hadn’t told me I had cancer at that point, as my biopsy results hadn’t come back, but three weeks from the time I first saw my GP, I was sitting in a chemo chair.
Eventually, the doctors told me I had stage 3C high-grade, serous ovarian cancer. With surgery and chemo, I might live 3 or 4 years.
There have been lots of chemo treatments during the past few years, which worked well for periods but the cancer recurred four times. The last lot of treatment wasn’t working and taking it made me feel yuck. I was sick of being sick and the treatment was defeating the purpose of feeling well.
I’m at the end of the cancer journey now. There is very, very limited treatment they can give me and none of it is lifesaving.
It becomes a mind game in the end. You can either sit around and mope about it, or you can get out and do stuff. I wanted quality of time over quantity, and to do as much as I could with everyone, while I could.
I retired from work and we sold our 10-acre block to move into a 400 sq metre. It was a huge change but I thought, “If I am gonna pop my clogs, I need to have the time to spend with my husband and be able to go out and do stuff, not just have to stay at home and look after everything, especially the gardens.”
I kept my beloved horses though; we found grazing for them. I’d always dreamed of riding my horse around the South Island, so we did that – driving from town to town with me riding my horse through about 30 towns.
The trip was used to raise awareness for ovarian cancer – we rode around and gave out signs and symptoms’ cards to people. Recently, I visited my youngest daughter in Hawke’s Bay. Travelling there was a significant effort, as even short trips can be taxing. But I managed it, and the experience was fantastic. Making memories is so important.
Living in the moment has become crucial. Planning for the future is difficult though, since I never know how I’ll feel on any given day or hour. Still, I try to organise things to have something to look forward to. Otherwise, life feels stagnant.
For anyone concerned about ovarian cancer, my advice is simple: if something feels wrong with your body, don’t ignore it. See a doctor. If the doctor isn’t listening, see another one. Advocate for yourself until you feel heard. Your body knows when something is off, and you know your body best.”
Information from the Ovarian Cancer Foundation
- One woman is diagnosed with ovarian cancer every day
- One woman dies of ovarian cancer every two days
- The average five-year survival rate is just 36%
- There is no screening test for ovarian cancer. It’s important to know your body and learn the symptoms: ovariancancerfoundation.org.nz/symptoms
If you have ovarian cancer and are looking for support, please visit ovariancancerfoundation.org.nz/support
