From one mum to another

Princess Catherine’s public announcement struck a chord with mum-of-two Jane Gillard. She shares her story of parenting through cancer – and offers hope for the Princess and mums navigating their own health journey while raising primary-aged kids.

I was on my way to pick up my 10-year-old daughter, Freya, from a birthday party when I received the news I might have cancer. I said to the doctor, “I don’t have time for cancer,” and he said, “Well, you’re going to have to make a bit of time.” I was devastated, it felt like the rug had been pulled from underneath me. Everything I’d assumed about my life was gone in that instant. I was going to live this long and happy life and all of a sudden it was like, “Well that might not happen”. I literally had to plaster a smile on my face, pick up my daughter and pretend everything was okay until the kids – my son, Gordon, was seven at the time – went to bed. Then I talked to my husband, Scott, about it.

I had a series of medical appointments – a CAT scan, a PET scan, a biopsy, blood tests. I had Non-Hodgkins lymphoma and my body lit up like a Christmas tree in the PET scan – there was cancer everywhere. I wasn’t sure what to do about telling the kids because it all happened so quickly. When I asked my oncologist she said, “Don’t lie to them. If you try to hide it, they will pick up whispered conversations and think it’s something worse.” I’m so glad I took her advice.

We sat Freya and Gordon down at the table after dinner and said, “We have something to tell you.” I struggled to speak without crying so Scott took over. We’d talked about what we’d say. He kept it simple, and we kept to the basics.

We said I had cancer; that I needed to visit the hospital a lot to get better and that I might not be better until Christmas – which was six months away. We kept it open so they could come and ask questions later if they wanted to.

Over time, they asked more. They wanted to know about my hair – would I lose it? Who would look after them when I was in hospital? And how would I go with needles because they know I hate them. That kind of thing.

Within two weeks of being told

“we think you have cancer” I was in hospital getting chemotherapy. We told the kids – it was July 2018 – that I’d finish treatment in December and my son said, “But Christmas is so far away” and it just broke my heart to think my being unwell would ruin such a huge chunk of their lives.

There’s often a sense of shame about a cancer diagnosis, like it’s your fault somehow. But there are so many

more treatments available now and the prognosis is so much better for so many cancers. I’m so pleased someone high profile like Princess Catherine is talking about it. It normalises cancer and makes people feel they’re not alone. It also shows people that they shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help. Because it doesn’t matter who you are, when you have got a cancer diagnosis treatment and fatigue consume a lot of time. And when you’ve got kids it’s so much harder to juggle cancer and parenting.

When I first got out of hospital literally all I could do was get out of bed in the morning and make it to the couch. I couldn’t say goodbye to the kids or make their lunches or anything.

School mums I didn’t know would drop off food. A local barber shaved my head because I looked so terrible, someone took my kids to school and back for a whole term. Scott held it together and managed our family while my mum flew back and forth from Tasmania to help. I couldn’t believe the amount of kindness I received – from friends, family, shopkeepers, strangers and neighbours.

Through this time, I kept talking to my kids and giving them ageappropriate updates as the doctors gave them to me. They had to help a little bit more around the house – they’d do the dishes, put washing in the machine, make their lunches, feed the cat, put the rubbish out. And I also made sure people knew what was happening to me so the kids had adults they could talk to. They knew they could talk to teachers, the headmaster, my friends and extended families – they had a support network.

I had six months of chemotherapy, and it was a failure. Three months later I had “salvage therapy” before a stem cell transplant. The treatment pushed me into menopause prematurely and has damaged my heart and lungs. It was full-on. They give you enough chemotherapy to kill the cancer and then reboot your immune system. It worked. On April 17 this year I was five years cancer-free.

Today Freya is 16 and Gordon is

13. We’re very close as a result of this experience. We appreciate each other more. I feared cancer would destroy their childhood but it’s actually made them better people. They’re more empathetic, hugely resilient, and have such grit as a result of what we’ve been through.

When I was first diagnosed what I really wanted was a picture book that I could read to my kids and explain what to expect with cancer treatment. I couldn’t find one. There were religious books, medical books or books about a mum dying. But there was nothing about the mundane stuff, how cancer will affect a child’s everyday life at home. Things like Mum’s going to be tired and grumpy and she needs a sleep.

So two years ago I wrote one and my friend Janet Croll illustrated it. Mum’s Purple Scarf aims to help others in the same situation. Now people are saying, “I hope you’re going to send your book to Princess Catherine because she’s exactly the sort of person you’ve written it for.” I’m going to stick it in the mail addressed to Kensington Palace – hopefully it gets there! AWW

Learn more about Jane’s journey at mumspurplescarf.com.au