Exactly one year ago, I was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma : 25th May 2015.

I still remember the day I entered the consultation room. What I assume as a normal follow up turns to a big blow up of reality.

The doctor asked me to sit down. I sat down with a big smile. Our eyes met.
The next word that comes out of her mouth plays in my head like a movie.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have good news for you.”

She definitely attempted her face of compassion. I wonder if doctor had to learn emotional crash course on how to deliver this news to patients. I felt sorry that they have to be the messenger of bad news.

My heart sank.

My mind went blank.

Back track two weeks prior, I was admitted to an emergency at The Women. My GP wrote me a referral letter after her assumption of cyst was proven to be wrong. I was given antibiotics hoping that it will rid of my swelling. When I went back to her 6 days later, my lump has grown from the size of M&M to a walnut. ( mmm…can’t look at them the same way again now )

If I was a worry wart, I would have probably suspected it as cancer. My mum told me she knows something is not right because the doctor couldn’t figure out what it was. After I got admitted to emergency, I have 7 doctors inspected me. Some of the question they asked me makes me blush and laugh at the same time. Appropriate material for my stand up comedy if I ever do one. They said I make them puzzled. (Later on, I find out my oncologist told me there was only a handful reported in the world with cancer in the similar location and type like mine.). They decided to do an MRI scan. They still couldn’t figure out what it was and decided to take it out anyway. I was signing my life away on a consent form for ‘the removal of a mass’.

I am curious what other cancer patients consent form is written with.

This is me prior to surgery. Nothing can stop me from smiling from the look of it haha.

This is how quickly it all happen. I went in for emergency on the 7th May at 4pm. I was admitted and scheduled for MRI the next day. Then, the doctor decided to operate my lump around 5 pm that day. I didn’t get out until 8pm.

There were two things that stood out in my brain. The first is that eerie feeling when you get wheeled on your hospital bed. I have done it a few times since. Yet, it still feels eerie every time. Watching those hospital lights going pass through you in those hospital corridor takes you to those segment of ER that you watched on TV. The few times I have done this, it usually ends with me in a theatre table. The second one was waking up feeling hungry as I wasn’t allowed to eat til after the operation.

Apart from my blood pressure dropping due to dehydration, the operation went well.

I was sent home with the word,” Don’t worry. It doesn’t look like it is cancerous.”
I trusted that word. I thought I was okay.

Then, here I am back again with my doctor. She introduced herself as one of the doctor who operated me. I went under before I get to see her. No wonder, I couldn’t recognise her face. I want to give her a big hug if I have a chance to meet her again.

Being me, after the initial shock went away, I started making jokes and laughing.

I don’t think the doctor knew what to do with me.

I can hear her puzzled in her reply to my response,”Umm..laughter helps.”

She proceeded in telling me that I was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma. I asked if she could write it down for me. She refused to do so and warned me not to google it, which of course what exactly I did after I got home. It was pretty harsh what the internet writes about it.

This is a reminder to speak to your oncologist first if you are diagnosed with cancer. Get correct information before loading yourself up with fear from online resources. They will give you the right advise as each case is different for everyone.

I am impressed by the speed of cancer treatment. After all, we are dealing with cancer. I definitely get an express lane.

She advised that tomorrow the specialists will have meeting to discuss my next plan of attack. Within 2 days, I stepped into Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre.
Who would have thought, it would be my second home for the rest of the year and more…

Things can change in just a matter of second.

One minute you are healthy, the next you have cancer.

My friends said,”You are a nice person, Nat. Out of all people, I don’t understand.”

I do not understand it either. Cancer doesn’t discriminate whether you are a good person or a bad person. A smoker or non smoker. Rich or poor. Kid or adult. Men or women.

If I never had cancer and never met my cancer friends who seem to have the oddest odd of getting cancer, I probably think that doing the right thing and being good person helps you steer away of cancer.

Sometimes, it is just a bad luck. This is the line that oncologists said to me. Several of them has used this line.

After all, if they know what caused cancer then we can find the cure for it.

Luckily, I am a believer there is always good that comes with the bad.

For me, cancer is a beginning not an end. A beginning of a new story, a new identity, a new path forged in my life.

I choose to take it as the  beginning of my fun and spiritual journey.

One of my friend said,”Nat, it’s okay if you want to cry and you don’t want to smile.”

Not knowing whether I have much time left in this world, I replied with calling to leave a legacy,” Nope, I will smile even if it is just once. I am going to make it as a fun journey. I have a mission to make this world a brighter place. I am going to hug everyone at the hospital.”

That is how laughter with cancer began…

“What would you do if you got diagnosed with cancer?”