Nightmare time for a new mum
Cancer in isolation
For a week, Natasha Cotton was stuck in the oncology ward at Auckland Hospital, unable to see her partner or newborn baby because of lockdown restrictions, sharing a room with three other women who would sometimes cry out in pain.
Her voice cracks and her eyes swell with tears when she describes that awful week in April, during level 4 lockdown.
While most New Zealanders wondered when they’d be able to buy takeaways again, Cotton, 29, was receiving intensive treatment for cervical cancer and wondering if she’d see her daughter Ellie grow up.
‘‘The saddest thing was being in the hospital for a week and not having support people,’’ she says.
‘‘I had ladies next to me and they didn’t have support people either, some of them would be in so much pain. It was so sad.
‘‘Doctors would come and talk to you. I’d be out of it, I’d call mum or [partner] Quentin so they could listen in and ask questions and I could doze out.
‘‘Some of [the patients] didn’t do that. Some of it was devastating information, and they’re by themselves. It’s very sad.’’
While some cancer services were delayed because of lockdown, Cotton’s treatment was brought forward because of severe pain and bleeding.
It had been a joyous start to 2020 – Ellie, her first child, was born on January 7.
She took maternity leave from her project co-ordinator’s job in Whanga¯ rei and her partner, Quentin Poa, finished working as a crane driver, the family planning to travel around New Zealand for a couple of months and then head to Europe for a wedding.
They were camping in Northland but had to return home because pain in Natasha’s back kept getting worse.
‘‘I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t do anything. I thought I’d just put it out picking Ellie up or something like that.’’
She went to see her GP, who ordered blood tests, which revealed some inflammation.
Then she had scans Whanga¯ rei Hospital.
‘‘I was quite lucky to be diagnosed,’’ she says. ‘‘The lady doing the MRI thought maybe I still had some placenta left from the birth... so she scanned a bit lower and that’s how they found the tumour.’’
It was early March, Ellie was just two months old and the family’s world was turned upside down.
Severe bleeding meant Cotton had to be admitted to Whanga¯ rei Hospital a couple of times and she was taken to Auckland by ambulance for scans.
On March 30, just five days after New Zealand entered level 4 lockdown, she was transferred to Auckland Hospital to begin radiation and chemotherapy. Because of social distancing, she couldn’t have a support person in the ambulance.
Quentin and Natasha’s mother, Carol Sutton, hurriedly packed some clothes and supplies for Ellie and drove to Auckland. They wouldn’t see home again for several weeks.
The family was given a suite at the Cancer Society’s Domain Lodge, opposite the hospital, which was only half full because of the lockdown. Andrew Young, chief executive of the Cancer Society Auckland Northland, says it was concerning that the lodge emptied out during lockdown.
Guests had been encouraged to stay for the full duration of their treatment ‘‘so as not to break our secure bubble and potentially bring Covid-19 into a facility where patients have low immunity and are extremely vulnerable’’.
But he understood why people were anxious about travelling to Auckland, away from their support bases, during a pandemic. ‘‘It’s a big ask of people who may be struggling to cope with difficult cancer treatments, to have to face that alone or in relative isolation.’’
Young says during lockdown people tended not to go to their GP or access regular health services.
Offshore there have been reports of between 30 per cent to 50 per cent fewer cancers being diagnosed during the pandemic, he says.
‘‘That means there are many more people walking around today completely unaware they have cancer, so a massive bow wave may come, putting pressure on all health services and vital support charities like the Cancer Society.’’
Cotton says she felt blessed to have her mum and partner staying with her for the duration of her treatment. Her mother would drop her at the hospital each day for radiation or chemo.
‘‘There’d be a queue outside waiting to get in, all these thin, frail people waiting outside to get into the door because of social distancing,’’ Carol Cotton says.
Natasha was unable to breastfeed because of the chemotherapy, but friends with babies donated breast milk for Ellie.
In mid-April, Natasha had to be admitted to the hospital for a week because of problems getting her pain under control. ‘‘The painkillers weren’t working.’’
Being separated from her support team was tough.
‘‘She’d be a ball of misery because of the pain,’’ Carol says. ‘‘I’d have a glass of water ready with a straw, or spoon some food into her mouth, she wasn’t eating and she was losing weight. You just knew that whole week in hospital she wouldn’t get that. She came out looking like the photos of people in concentration camps – eyes wide with shock.’’
Natasha says she was often vomiting or too tired to do anything, but having Ellie with her for most of the treatment helped.
‘‘Even when I’m feeling s... she brings a smile to my face. But it’s certainly not how I planned to spend the first four months of her life.’’
Natasha’s last day of treatment was Wednesday and she was finally able to return home to Whanga¯ rei.
She will have a check-up in a few weeks and a scan in a few months to confirm if she’s clear of the cancer.
Because the cancer had spread to her ovaries, she won’t be able to have any more children, which she says came as a ‘‘huge blow’’.
But she feels blessed to have Ellie, who she says is ‘‘really chilled’’.
‘‘She’s a perfect baby.’’
‘‘Even when I’m feeling s... she brings a smile to my face. But it’s certainly not how I planned to spend the first four months of her life.’’
Natasha Cotton