Being diagnosed with cancer completely changed my life for a while. The initial shock was overwhelming. I want to share my experience to help others understand a little the emotional turmoil such a diagnosis can bring.

When I heard the words, “You have a tumour – and it is probably cancerous” time seemed to stand still, while the words sank in. I then felt a flood of emotions – fear, anger, sadness, but mostly disbelief. I kept thinking they must have got it wrong. However, as time went by, I came to face up to it better.

One challenge I faced was conflicting information from different NHS staff. While individual staff members were often wonderful and compassionate, the system itself felt impersonal and disjointed. This definitely added to the emotional strain. I decided to advocate for myself, asking lots of questions until I fully understood the diagnosis and treatment options. I felt uncomfortable questioning professionals at first – but after a while I decided this is my only life, and I had the right to seek clarity and play a part in the decisions. That would be my first advice to others.

After the initial shock, my feelings fluctuated daily, or even hourly. Concerns about the impact on my family, and the financial implications weighed really heavily on my mind – as well as what they would do without me. I work full-time, so was not entitled to help with travel costs for treatment – and my job brings me into close contact with council staff. I felt awkward about applying to the council for help with ferry costs, as I didn’t know who would know about it, but realising I was embarrassed, an older family member stepped in to help so I didn’t have to make that decision. I realise now I was probably worrying about nothing, but at that time I wasn’t really able to think clearly.

I felt very angry at the unfairness of it all. Talking through things with my family helped, although I didn’t feel able to share all my feelings because I didn’t want them to be burdened with them. For instance, I couldn’t really tell them how much I felt the loss of being ‘normal’ and, sometimes, hope. I allowed myself to cry privately when I needed to.

I eventually realized I didn’t have to go through it all alone. Wessex Cancer Support – when I finally reached out to them – were an amazing help. Contacting them is my second piece of advice. Sharing my experiences with others who understood gave me comfort, and just as important, practical guidance. I learnt there is light at the end of the tunnel, but I had to actively seek it.

Focusing on small milestones and celebrating each victory, no matter how minor, helped me a lot.

When the road ahead seemed hard, I was reminded that many have walked it before, and even emerged stronger. There are countless stories of resilience and survival, but I also came to a kind of acceptance that we must all die – and this might mean the end of my story. At the same time, I tried hard to hold onto the belief that I could get through this. It was traumatic, but I came to realise it didn’t have to define my entire life.

I was lucky, after my operation and treatment I have been given the all-clear. Now I take each day as it comes, but value much more those little things that we take for granted. We have a new baby in the family, and I am so grateful that I am still around to get to know him. I have the chance to see him grow up into a fine young man – and I have the NHS, however imperfect it was at times, to thank for that.