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Introduction

Hello there kittens, My name is Tanya. I am a 28 year old dedicated devotee of false lashes and red lipstick. Lover of fairy tales, myths, burlesque and drag. Old soul. Audacious and strong willed. Perpetually tempestuous. Half Scottish, half Irish. Oh, and I have cancer.

Chapter 13 – Brachytherapy

My course of brachytherapy was with the most wonderful team. I have been incredibly fortunate with the medical professionals I have had. I mean they were not so wonderful they counteracted the indignity of having radioactive materials rammed into your vagina, but they made the whole experience much more tolerable than I was expecting.

Chapter 12 – Hiking

My housemate was running a half marathon and I offered to accompany her. The race was over the Shropshire hills. By this point I felt very much back on my feet. I grew up watching Xena: Warrior Princess, I could definitely manage a hike weeks after major surgery.

Chapter 11 – So long, stockings

The day has finally come where I no longer need to wear my super sexy surgical stockings. These past six weeks have flown by. To be honest, I’m a little sad about it. I have grown overly fond of them. I mean they are no seemed stockings – but I make them work.

Lucky and Brave

I tell people endlessly that I have been incredibly lucky, that the situation could have been so much worse. They usually tell me how brave I am, and that they admire my positvity. We both know it’s not that simple, but its so much easier this way.

Chapter 10 – Results

I returned for my follow up appointment The good news – I got to keep my knickers on. Wooo! The bad news – I would have to have to ride a radioactive dildo to be considered “cured”.

Chapter 9 – Clexane

Guess who is delighted about having just injected herself with Clexane for the last time?! Although I am going to miss making patterns out of the bruises. #bruiselikeapeachclub

Dr B

My reproductive organs had been tugged out. Part of my vagina had been cut out. I had been stitched up like cushion. I was injecting myself daily, my entire stomach was a mass of bruises, but the thing I was upsetting me most was the thought of having to go to the doctors.

Chapter 8 – Recovery

If someone had told me ten years ago that I would feel this much better after a hysterectomy, I would have saved myself chronic pain for the entirety of my adult life. I was ready for my first pint two days after I was out of the hospital – and it was glorious.

Chapter 7 – Hysterectomy

I was back at the hospital within 18 hours. I was willingly offering myself up to be sliced open, my organs removed through my vagina and sent to different parts of the county, my insides scraped clean. An unusual blend of Egyptian mummification, childbirth, and being hung drawn and quartered.