How do you feel?

Just over 4 weeks now since I got the confirmation that my cancer was active again, I still can't really describe how I feel about it.

I'd known of course, having felt symptoms for a couple of weeks in late September. I felt even more sure when I received a Scan appointment 2 days after my bloods were taken. This meant, I was fairly certain, that my Consultant had seen the results and wanted to see the extent of the "damage". Sure enough, I was told at the next appointment that Markers were at 495 - they'd been in the 50s in July. It was disappointing and, though I wasn't shocked, I was upset by the news. I was told I could possibly be eligible for Immunotherapy- a new treatment for my cancer - a combination of Pembrolizumab (immunotherapy drug) and Lenvatinib (a cancer inhibitor). It's only recently been licensed following a trial for Womb cancers. It's the first new treatment for many years and it signals some hope.

The scan, a week later, showed new tumours and that previous ones were growing. Markers had shot up to 1,600.

Blood tests also showed that my particular cancer should respond to the treatment. That was supposedly good news. So why wasn't I ecstatic? I burst into tears after my appointment. A Specialist Nurse wrapped her arms round me and I sobbed. Why was I feeling so low? I felt crushed. Did I want to be bothered with it all? She's referred me for counselling. I know I need it - if only to sort out my emotions. Understand what's in my head.

As per usual, before a treatment, I went along for bloods. I always take a book - it's a "wait your turn" system and you can be there over an hour. But this day, I was in after 20 minutes. The phlebotomists are so efficient- but it's all quite mechanical. They're kind and friendly enough, but so busy and it's such a technical skill needing concentration. It's usually a case of "Hello. How are you? What's the weather like out there now?" (They work in window less clinics). Then, "Which arm are we using today? Just squeeze your fist for me. Sharp scratch. Relax. That's all done. You can pop your sleeve down now.."

It was therefore a bit of a surprise when the young blond woman in a blue uniform leaned against the bench and asked me, "So how are you feeling about your treatment?"

I was quite taken aback. "I don't really know. I honestly don't know how I feel. It's all new. No one can say for sure if it will work. Side effects are different for everyone and no one knows why. Actually, now I think about it, I'm a bit scared."

She listened, head to one side. She nodded. She didn't have to. It wasn't her job. She was just being human and it really meant something to me. "I get that." She said. "Not sure how I'd feel in your place. You can only trust, can't you? And live in hope". Then she started the blood business. But I felt like I mattered. Like it bothered her.

The question went on round and round my head all day. "How do I feel about my treatment?"

I could have said:

• I'm really scared- I don't want any more treatment because I don't want to acknowledge this cancer

• I'm so angry that this is back again

• I'm fed up. This is not the life I want to be leading

• This is messing everything up. I thought I would have a much longer reprieve

I could have ranted about it all being so unfair and that I resented every healthy person in the planet. I could have said I was mad at God and what was the point of all that prayer? Could have - but didn't. I let those responses bounce around my head instead. I suppose one day, in months to come, when I eventually get a long-awaited counselling appointment, I'll tell them about those feelings- if they ask.

I carry these thoughts around daily. I don't think they show on my face. So it leads me to ponder - what do we ever know about how anyone feels about anything? What's going on in the heads of those we meet? Dare we ask that question? Do we really want to know the answer? Can we be more human to one another and acknowledge our vulnerability?

So how are you feeling about what's happening in your life right now?