Tabby Duff
- Apr 6, 2021
- 6 min read

10 Things I Wish I’d Known Before Starting Chemo

If I could speak to my pre-chemo self, I’d tell myself I’m going to be absolutely fine. Of course, that’s a lot easier said than done, and I’d never have believed me.

It’s a total understatement to say that being diagnosed with cancer in your 20s, or at any age for that matter, is a shock to the system. I’m talking about the kind of shock where you can’t even breathe. An out-of-body experience. Suddenly, your life goes from the 9-5 grind and Friday night G&Ts, to this whirlwind of scans, blood tests, hospital appointments, calls with surgeons and oncologists and geneticists, and before you know it you can barely remember what your life even was, pre-cancer. It’s my first thought waking up in the morning, and my last thought before my head hits the pillow at night. It’s fucking draining.

All I previously thought I knew about chemo was my very limited knowledge based on what I’d seen on TV. You know the classic images – hair falling out in clumps in the shower, the bald, frail person heaving over the toilet bowl, the hours spent crying, the crippling depression. And do not get me wrong – all of those have been me. Chemo is brutal. But it’s not always doom and gloom. I’ve been seriously unwell, my head is so shiny you could probably see your reflection in it, and I’m officially at the point where I need to sit down just from walking up the stairs. But I’m also able to eat relatively normally, I’m still able to run when I can or walk when I feel up to it. I sleep enough. I still laugh. I cry. I love.

With only 2 treatments left before I finish – hopefully bloody forever, speaking that shit into existence – I’ve been reflecting on my chemo experience and what I wish I’d known before starting it all. I’ve compiled the below list in the hope it might help anyone struggling at the start of their own chemo journey, or anyone that maybe has a friend/relative going through it and wants to offer support.

1. I wish I’d known I wouldn’t be sick 24/7.

Yep, there have been many days where I’ve been as sick as a dog. I’ve been more unwell than I ever thought possible. But, because my chemo is every 3 weeks, I usually have 1 really bad week, 1 bad week, and 1 not-so-bad week. And in the not-so-bad week, things are just that, they’re alright. I get shit done. I’m able to work. Other than lockdown keeping me home 24/7, I’m still living.

2. I wish I’d known to drink water, more water, then a bit more water again.

The benefit of drinking enough water is it’ll help your body to flush out the chemo drugs from your system quicker, so you can start to recover sooner too. I personally cannot stand the taste of water when I’m in chemo, so I’d suggest finding a low-sugar squash or anything else you can stomach to keep yourself hydrated.

3. I wish I’d known to stop feeling guilty for not being as healthy or active as I normally am.

I have managed to keep up regular dog walks and I’ve even been able to run a few 5k’s, plus some running workouts on my treadmill. But as the cycles go on, my fitness levels fall. My resting heart rate is so much higher than it used to be. I’m shattered all the time, plus I can’t stop eating crap. I kept comparing myself to ‘normal’ healthy people who were managing a full-time job, workout routine, super healthy diet, and 8+ hours sleep a night and feeling like a complete failure, even though I literally didn’t have the energy to get out of bed. Or I’d see some of the superhuman cancer gals I follow doing 15k steps a day followed by an intense workout, and then feel even worse that I couldn’t keep up. Take every day at its own pace. You literally have no reason to compare or feel guilty for what you can or can’t do. You’ve got to listen to your body. Let her rest and recuperate.

4. I wish I’d known that chemo brain is oh-so real.

Ah, the brain fog. It’s the total inability to articulate or form cohesive sentences. Suddenly, you can’t remember someone’s name you’ve known a million years, or you walk into a room to do something, then completely go blank. I’d heard people talk about chemo brain but I genuinely didn’t think it would be this bad. It’s frustrating, and one of the side effects that apparently linger around for years after finishing treatment. So, if I forget your birthday, I’m sorry in advance!

5. I wish I’d known just how much my appearance would change.

To be fully honest, one of the main things that have really brought me down during chemo has been the massive change in my appearance. I feel a bit vain even saying it. But I just don’t 'look’ like me anymore – the bald head, thinning eyebrows and disappearing eyelashes, weight gain, flushed cheeks, steroid-induced puffiness, terrible skin, eye bags, broken nails, biopsy scars, the PICC line in my arm. The list goes on. All of this is a daily reminder of what my body is going through. I know I’ll look like myself again one day, but I don’t think people really warn you about how different you will look going through chemo. It’s really tough.

6. I wish I’d known that people would react differently to my diagnosis, and I’d lose some friends, but also gain some incredible new ones.

There’s nothing quite like a cancer diagnosis to show who your true friends are, and sadly, aren’t. I definitely wasn’t prepared for this, and this was probably the hardest one to come to terms with. I didn’t expect friends to not reach out or to not be around as much as they were pre-cancer. I didn’t expect people to treat me differently, or to disappear into thin air. I guess some people just don’t know what to say. Some people avoid the C-word altogether and pretend there’s nothing wrong. Others might only talk about it and forget about the person you are behind cancer. I also didn’t expect to hear from people I hadn’t spoken to in years, or even some total strangers sending kind words of encouragement and support. The point is, people react in different ways. You just kind of have to accept it. My best friends have been literally the best throughout this though, and I don’t think I could’ve got through a lot of it without them.

7. I wish I’d known to never lose my sense of humour.

Abraham Lincoln once said:

“With the fearful strain that is upon me day and night, if I did not laugh, I should die.”

To be honest, Abe had a good point here. People joke about trauma all the time – if we can joke about something, it makes it less threatening in our minds. I’ve had some seriously dark days, but I’ll always have my sense of humour and ability to give a massive FUCK YOU to cancer.

8. I wish I’d known to connect with the cancer community as soon as possible.

The cancer community is the most incredible community I never knew existed. I have virtually met (and hopefully, will one day soon real-life meet) the most amazing, generous, and helpful group of young women also battling with breast and other cancers. Their strength and positivity inspire me to keep going every single day, and although we’ve found each other under the shittest of circumstances, I’m really thankful to have found them. So, reach out – don’t be shy. These people will be your go-to gals for any issues or questions, even the weird or embarrassing ones. They understand more than anyone else.

9. I wish I’d known the effects of chemo are cumulative.

I’m about to go into cycle 6, and although I now know roughly what to expect and when, it doesn’t make it any easier. My body is getting weaker with every infusion. Unfortunately, it will get worse as you go along, but remember, it’s all for the best outcome in the long run.

10. I wish I’d known: do not give up.

There have been points where I’ve really felt like what is the point. I’ve wanted to stop because the pain and suffering don’t even feel worth it. But please, don’t give up. You’re already closer to the finish line than you were when you started reading this.

Chemo is a total bitch, but it’s also one step closer to getting this tit tumour out of me. A small price to pay, really.

I’d even go as far as to say that the fear of chemo is almost worse than the reality. Go into this experience with a strong mindset and I already know you’ll be grand. But also remember that as everyone’s cancer is different, so are our experiences – so please don’t compare yours to anyone else’s.

Sending all the love and positive vibes in the world, you have got this.