
I am not a warrior.
I don’t believe that people who beat cancer are warriors, because I’m unsure what that’s saying about the people who don’t make it through.
I don’t think of the time with cancer as a journey, either. I love travelling, and for me, associating cancer treatment with a travelling noun just doesn’t do it.
I’m sharing my story in case there’s another person out there, living with other people’s expectations to be a warrior, to be positive, to fight the good fight, who may need to know my truth.
I endured. I was pissed off. I was sad. I was happy. I was frustrated. And when, at times, I wasn’t grateful enough to be living, I felt guilty.
Watch Deborah Hutton open up about her skin cancer battle. Post continues below.
The letter and the phone call.
Once you hit the fabulous age of 50, a letter arrives inviting you to a free breast screening. I almost threw mine out – there was no breast cancer in my family.
My husband, a nurse, told me I should go. “Only if you have your male 50 check-up,” I bargained. The deal was done. The deal saved my life.