LOCKDOWN has brought a rollercoaster of emotions over the past three months but as it begins to ease, it’s important not to get so caught up in the routine of daily life that you forget to live in the moment.
For The Sun digital columnist Deborah James, 38, also known as Bowel Babe, this is a lesson she learnt three years ago when she was diagnosed with incurable bowel cancer.
Living in lockdown with her husband Seb, 40, and kids Hugo, 12, and Eloise, ten, in Barnes, South London, Deborah has been hosting a weekly podcast with her kids called The Good Stuff, in which they discuss tricky questions and spread positivity.
Here, Deborah reveals how confronting death has helped her to live, and gives advice on how to talk to children about scary issues.
‘FOR almost four years I have lived in fear that each day might be my last. I was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer at the age of 35. I am vegetarian, I’m a runner and I was a healthy mum of two with a busy job as a deputy head teacher — on paper, I’m really not bowel cancer’s type.
So, on that day, just before Christmas in 2016, my world came crashing down around me. I thought I knew what fear felt like — I’m petrified of flying and peacocks. And as the mum of two wonderfully bonkers kids I’ve experienced the tidal wave of terror that hits all new parents.
As a child, my biggest fear was that I might actually know I was dying. I just couldn’t get my head around how a person could function in that situation. I thought it must be awful. Then cancer came along and that fear became my reality.
I now live with a constant ball of angst burning in the pit of my stomach. It wakes me up at night, it distracts me while I work, and some days it leaves me crying uncontrollably, unable to get out of bed.
I am scared of dying, not for what it means for me — I won’t be around to deal with it. What really terrifies me is what it means for my kids and loved ones.
Ever since I was diagnosed, my husband Seb and I have vowed to be honest with Hugo and Eloise. With that promise has come a big burden for them. I live with stage 4 cancer, but so do they. I say “live with” on purpose, because I am not cured and I never will be.
I have incurable cancer, and without treatment I will die. I was given less than a year to live when I was first diagnosed, so just over three and a half years later, I feel like I’m living on borrowed time.
Over the last few years I have planned my own funeral, fallen into the depths of depression and said goodbye to too many close friends who have died of cancer.
I’ve mourned my own future, accepted I probably won’t see my kids grow up but also enjoyed the odd rays of sunshine and hope. I’ve had moments where I can come up for air, instances when I dare to dream of beating the odds and hints at getting more time.
Earlier this year I got one of those rare reasons to hope. My scans showed there was “no evidence of any active disease”, it basically means I am cancer “free”. I actually thought about planning stuff more than a few weeks in advance. Then coronavirus happened.
In those early days of the epidemic, I had flashbacks to the initial terror I felt when I first found out I had cancer. I felt overwhelmed, trapped on a rollercoaster with no idea of what scared me more — my cancer or Covid.
My doctors and I decided that I should have a mini-break from treatment, to reduce my risk of catching coronavirus and reduce my hospital trips.
But, within just three weeks, tests showed my tumour markers were creeping back up and I was back on treatment — turns out cancer won the battle of which I feared most.
I had to undergo two gruelling weeks of radiotherapy, and now I am back on my targeted drugs. What the last few months has shown, is something cancer has shown me many times: It’s important we all talk about death.
It still scares me, but having talked my death through with my loved ones, and being open with my kids has helped demystify it. We are all dying, it’s the very nature of life, but by spending all our time fearing it, we forget to live.
Without a doubt the most important lesson cancer has taught me is the importance of living for now, enjoying the present and making the most of every second. We can’t spend our whole lives fearing coronavirus, as scary as it is.
It’s time to start living again, to remember that death is something to fear, but it’s not a fear that should overtake life. So, as lockdown starts to ease, and life begins to return to our “new normal”, remember to focus on living in the now rather than fearing what might be.
It is out of our control and yes, that’s scary, but that’s life.
WHEN lockdown happened, my kids had loads of questions, it was relentless.
Home schooling is really hard, and I am a trained teacher. As parents, we can only do what we can. This generation of kids is living through something no other has had to deal with.
So, I have been of the opinion that rather than force the issue, it’s important they have the time and space to understand and soak it in. They’ve helped me present my new podcast The Good Stuff, and we’ve focused on life in lockdown and trying to look for the good in life and make the most of it.
When it comes to fears of death and coronavirus, and what life will be like, I put together these tips to help you talk to your kids, from my experience of living with cancer.
BE FACTUAL: Stick to the real risk, use only reliable information. Make it simple for kids to understand.
DON’T OVER-PROMISE: Don’t make pledges you can’t keep. None of us knows what the future holds.
KNOW WHAT COUNTS: Sounds tough to take, but your kids have other things in life they worry about, such as friends, so don’t get upset if they don’t appear too bothered. Their social bubble is a tad more important at times.
GIVE CONTEXT: Yes, Covid is scary but it’s important to give your kids some context. Explain that there are other things more dangerous, such as crossing roads. Give them practical tips to stay safe, like hand washing and keeping two metres apart.
DON’T SCARE THEM: This sounds as if it goes without saying, but you may lose sight of it when you are scared yourself. Children are like sponges and will pick up on it if you are really scared.
ENCOURAGE QUESTIONS: Don’t leave them to draw their own conclusions. Often kids will end up filling in any gaps and that just leaves them open to jumping to the worst conclusion, when a simple and honest chat might calm fears.
AGE MATTERS: Your child’s concept of death depends on how old they are. Really young kids have no understanding and, in most cases, we only start to cement our understanding of death as teenagers.
