MY HEALTH EXPERIENCE: SARAH BOLAND:'Despite poor prognosis, I never doubted I would get through it'
WHEN I RAN in the London Marathon in 2008, little did I know that two years later I’d be facing my biggest challenge of all. Although I had led a fit and healthy life, I was often prone to throat and sinus problems.
In November 2009 I started to develop regular mouth ulcers, which gradually spread down the back of my throat making it very painful to eat and swallow. I would avoid certain foods and have to swallow painkillers before meals.
My appetite started to diminish and within the space of about two months I had lost about two stone in weight. My GP was quite concerned and suspected I might be developing a form of Crohn’s or Behçet’s disease so referred me to various specialists.
My first ambulance trip came on a Friday night in January when an ulcer ruptured and I started bleeding uncontrollably. It was a horrifying ordeal as it seemed like the bleeding would never stop and I wondered whether I was going to die there and then.
I tried to get on with my life but, by then, I was also suffering from exhaustion, night sweats and fevers. I somehow managed to go to work surviving on very little sleep and food and relying on painkillers to get through the day. I had a biopsy and various procedures at a private hospital, which ruled out Crohn’s disease and malignancy.
They still didn’t know what was wrong with me. My mystery illness had now completely taken over and I could no longer work or socialise and just slept all day long. In April 2010, my ear, nose and throat specialist admitted me to St George’s Hospital in London and I underwent another biopsy. Following this I had another bleeding incident, and this time it was more serious.
I woke up in intensive care with a tracheotomy and bruising on my chest from when the doctors had to revive me. I scared a lot of people, including myself.
After three weeks of seeing virtually every specialist in the hospital, the diagnosis finally came in: I had NK/T cell lymphoma, an aggressive non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. It is a rare cancer found mainly in elderly Asian men – not young Irish women – which was why it was so difficult to diagnose. When I asked my oncologist how I got it, her reply was simple: “You’re just unlucky.” Unlucky!
As much as I was shocked, I was also relieved to finally have a name for what was wrong with me. A diagnosis meant there was treatment and I immediately started chemotherapy. The chemo made me very ill, but it also made me better. I eventually got my voice back and started to eat again.
Despite the poor prognosis I was given, there was never any doubt in my mind that I would get through it. My ENT specialist frankly told me that he didn’t think I’d make it but I guess he didn’t know how stubborn I am.
The tracheotomy meant that I couldn’t speak, eat or drink so I’d communicate with pen and paper and was fed via a feeding pump. Strangely, not being able to eat gave me a hunger; not just for food but for life. I would visualise going for picnics with loved ones and this longing for taste and normality kept me going.
My nine months of treatment included four cycles of SMILE chemotherapy, an intense protocol given over a three-week period, and 30 sessions of radiotherapy.
After a few near-death experiences and bad reactions to treatment, I gradually got stronger. Thankfully, in February of this year I was told that the disease is in remission.
Although I received fantastic care at the NHS and I am indebted to the nurses and doctors who treated me in London, it was difficult being so far away from my family in Cork.
I started writing a blog (sazbol.co.uk) to keep family and friends in Ireland up-to-date with my treatment and progress. What I hadn’t anticipated was that writing would form a bit of therapy for me and help me to make sense of what was going on.
People were often hesitant to ask questions because they didn’t know what to say, so I tried to make it easier by explaining the strange and weird world of cancer through my blog.
The long and complicated journey back to health continues as I undergo more chemotherapy and then await a stem cell transplant. Finding a donor match has not been an easy process but thanks to agencies such as Anthony Nolan, a UK-based donor charity, I now have a donor willing to donate their stem cells.
Until then, I take every day as it comes, enjoy picnics with loved ones, and remain thankful that I am still alive.
In conversation with BRIAN O'CONNELL
LYMPHOMA: WHAT IS IT?
Lymphoma is a cancer of the lymphatic system. Lymphoma, like other cancers, is a disease of the body’s cells. Cells in different parts of the body work in different ways, but they all repair and reproduce themselves in the same way.
Normally, cells divide in the body in an orderly and controlled manner. However, if for some reason the process gets out of control the cells carry on dividing. In lymphoma, a lump or tumour forms in one or more groups of lymph nodes. There are twomain types of lymphoma: Hodgkin’s lymphoma and Non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.
