KILEY

Kiley is one tough chick.

Thirty years old. A child welfare lawyer. A marathon runner. And now, a cancer fighter.

Kylie’s story began like so many. She felt a lump. It was on her cervix and, despite having recently had a normal pap smear, she persevered with doctors who told her that everything was fine and pushed to have another test done.

A week later her results confirmed what Kylie, and every other woman, dreads. Abnormalities. Again she was reassured that everything was fine and told to come back for a follow up pap smear three months later. Three months later though, everything was not fine. The second pap smear prompted the need for a biopsy before the tortuous waiting for results began.

Kylie is a child welfare lawyer in Colorado. An incredible woman doing incredible things for kids with nobody else to fight for them. There, in her element, at a conference amongst the epic beauty of the mountains, Kylie received a phone call and heard the three words that change your life forever: “You have cancer”. Why this shit happens to the best people is beyond me.

“[The doctor] wasn’t reassuring this time: she said I needed to have a hysterectomy within the next few years. I am 30, and haven’t had children...She said to try to not worry until I saw the oncologist.”

Not worry? Were they kidding? Kylie met with an oncologist the next week and it was arranged that she would have a cone biopsy to remove a section of her cervix. Suddenly, things weren’t so scary. The hysterectomy was taken off the table and this procedure, with only a one to two week recovery time, was put in its place. Oh how to the tables can turn.

Like the cruel rollercoaster that cancer is though, the cone biopsy revealed there to be more cancer than was originally thought. Suddenly, this thirty year old’s fertility was back in question.

“She said...that I needed to start looking into freezing my eggs or embryos ASAP because things did not look promising. It was awful waiting for that appointment. I felt like each day was just a countdown to that appointment, and it was hard to concentrate on much else.”

For two weeks Kylie paced, waiting for the appointment to arrive only to have it cancelled. Answers ripped from beneath her. Life was on hold, like somebody had pressed pause on normality. Another two weeks of waiting lay ahead.

“All I knew was that I had cancer in my body, needed to have more treatment, and no one would see me for a month after I learned this news.”

While she waited to find out more, Kylie began scouring the internet for the information she needed. She began researching the prices of freezing embryos only to find this caused more stress. With tongue in cheek she explained:

“I looked into prices for freezing my eggs/embryos, and quickly learned that there was absolutely no way I could pay for it. Though I’m a lawyer, my clients (children in foster care) are notorious for not paying well. Going through IVF or anything similar would take nearly half of my yearly salary.”

Suddenly this young woman was learning that cancer was trying to take away her ability to have children and she had absolutely no control over it. She began to question everything.

“Learning that my chances of being a mom were being taken away or slashed by cancer, something I didn’t ask for and had no control over, and because I thought I was doing something good when I went into public interest law, instead of corporate law, broke my heart.”

Finally some good news. As doctors do, they changed their minds and decided that they would do a less-invasive surgery. It was not the standard treatment and the doctor asked Kylie to trust her. When your survival and fertility are fighting with each other, and someone says you can have both, it’d be hard not to agree to it.

“I thought about how heart breaking it was to think of not being able to be a mom. It’s pretty screwed up when you think of it - weighing the chances you may have at survival with the innate longing to be a mom - but that’s what I’m currently faced with.”

Cancer can bring with it a whole plethora of emotions. For Kylie they started as one would expect. Fear and anxiety about what the future would look like. Then came the unexpected emotions. The ones that nobody can see coming. Loss. Grief. Guilt.

“I feel a huge sense of loss at my ability to train as hard as I want to for my marathons, control my career, and to have a baby on my own terms down the road. I feel a huge sense of loss that if I am able to get pregnant, it won’t be as easy and natural as I always thought it would.”

Not only was cancer threatening Kylie’s health and fertility, but it was affecting her hobbies and interests. Marathon training. The things that kept her sane.

“I’ve always struggled with poor body image and disordered eating. Running has helped me view my body as strong and powerful, rather than as something to be fearful of. I think my current situation is creating a toxic mix of stress, together with my old body image issues coming back up without running to save the day by providing me a healthy appetite.”

A common thread emerges the more of these interviews I do and Kylie was no exception. She experienced incredible guilt throughout her journey. Guilt around the fact that the people she loves and cares about are having to go through this stress alongside her.

“My bad days have been really teary. Heart breaking & dramatic sobs, most of the time in bed where I feel like I can’t get up. They’ve also been when I’m short & grumpy with those closest to me, like mom or my boyfriend. Which then also end up with guilt, sobs, and tears. Really, all my bad days are just crying, sometimes outside of bed, sometimes not.”

Telling people about something challenging you are going through is hard enough. The guilt associated with upsetting them can be all consuming and so often you end up being the one doing the comforting.

“I’ve been avoiding telling some people that don’t already know, just because I feel tired of telling people and reassuring them that I am okay.  It’s not that I don’t want them to know. I’m just a people pleaser, and I hate upsetting people.”

As if the cancer itself wasn’t enough, the fear of people thinking her cancer was due to an STI also played on her mind.

“One thing that I always fear when thinking about telling more people is that they’ll think that I got this from an STD or I got this from not having regular pap smears. I just want them to know that I’ve lived a really a healthy life - I’ve taken steps to protect myself when having sex, and I’ve always had regular (or more!) screenings. I don’t want them to think that this happened because I’m irresponsible or flakey - it didn’t. It happened despite me doing what everyone said were the ‘right’ things to do to protect yourself.”

So when, like Kylie, you finally get the courage to tell people what you’re going through, you want them to react in a way that is not harmful. So often people who are well-meaning do more harm than good.

“Telling me that it’s going to be okay feels like it is minimizing what I’m going through and what crap still lies ahead. It made me feel like they didn’t recognize that I already feel that I’ve lost so much. It makes me feel so angry! I wish they’d just acknowledge how shitty it is, and let me vent. Ask me honest questions, and just curse with me at life and the way things turn out sometimes.”

Talking openly about cancer can be difficult for both parties but for those doing the sharing, it can often feel like it’s all they talk about. And, with something as all-consuming as cancer, it’s understandable that other aspects of your life fade into insignificance. The best thing you can do as a listener is acknowledge that this thing that is happening to your loved one is huge and that it is something they need to be able to talk about.

“it’s what I feel like talking about most of the time, so I feel grateful when people are genuinely curious and want to listen. I feel grateful for the opportunity to open up about it without fear that I am being a downer and announcing that I have cancer.”

Despite what she is going through, Kylie is still thinking of others. And for those going through difficult times, Kylie sums things up perfectly.

“You are going to lose so much in all of this, but you’re going to gain things that you weren’t expecting or asking for too.”

“I still want to be a wonderful mom, a dedicated marathoner, and a compassionate lawyer. This experience hasn’t changed any of my values or goals, but it has made me realise how none of it is guaranteed like I had believed before.”

Since the time of writing, Kylie has gone on to have another cone biopsy which removed her remaining cancer and will undergo regular tests to make sure she remains in the clear.

She’s also back running again.