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Elise, South Africa
My name is Elise Fourie. I am a thyroid cancer Survivor for 22 years, a leader volunteer for 14 years for the Cancer Association of South Africa (CANSA) and a psychologist.
My journey with cancer started in an odd, but endearing manner. 22 years ago nodules on my thyroid were diagnosed, and they had to be removed surgically. I was hoping it would not be cancer. When I came to, however, the surgeon informed me as follows: "If God tells you, you have to have cancer, this is the one to choose."
The rest of my thyroid was destroyed using a radio-active iodine treatment. After two treatments...no more thyroid! I now use artificial hormones, which do not work as well as natural hormones produced by one's thyroid.
For years I was too embarrassed to inform others that I was diagnosed with cancer, after all, my treatment was "easy" and my journey was not as challenging as that of other cancer Survivors. I kept it to myself that the treatment involved my feeling like a chipmunk (with swollen salivary glands) and being in isolation due to being radio-active - it was quite scary when the nurses came in with a Geiger counter to check my vitals, and I could hear the Geiger counter indicating how radio-active I was.
However, when I became a volunteer for CANSA, I was reminded that I live a life without a thyroid, which brings many challenges, and this will be my challenge for the rest of my life. I still have hot flushes on steroids, my body's temperature control is awful, my memory is deteriorating a little bit faster, and there is the discomfort of being on a slightly higher dosage of medication (to prevent thyroid cancer from returning), and I have a high risk for osteoporosis, to name a few. In addition, the fear of thyroid cancer returning, or being diagnosed with a different cancer, will always be there.
Over the years, as a psychologist, I've emotionally supported many children teenagers and adults who have been diagnosed with cancer. I've also supported their families to deal with their loved ones being diagnosed with cancer. Supporting young children and teenagers whose parents have been diagnosed with cancer, is especially sad.
Of course, supporting children diagnosed with cancer as well as their parents, is heart-rendering. I still am amazed at the dignity of how the children diagnosed with cancer, walk their journey.
I support patients who have decided not to continue with treatment, and, of course, I respect their decision. Often the families are upset and want their loved one to continue treatment, and it is so sad when I have to convince them to respect the decision made by their loved one. It is as sad to support the patient and family to deal with the news that further treatment is not possible and will not have an impact.
I've accompanied and prepared many patients on the last part of their journey, and I have often visited the patients for the last time, a day or two before they passed away. Preparing their families is equally as heart-rendering, it will always be painful to see one's loved one wasting away and to say goodbye to a beloved family member and friend. I view this as a holy process and I still feel privileged to be allowed to support the patients and their families.
Of course, it is not easy when the children and teenagers become terminal. Preparing the parents and grandparents is particularly sad, but I feel privileged to be allowed to be there for the parents and family. I've grieved with family members, while supporting them and conducting grief therapy with them.
I can't see myself not supporting cancer patients and their families for many years to come. It is so amazing to see how patients and their families never give up hope, even to the last moment before they pass away. In my opinion, this is not denial, it is hope being kept alive, and miracles do happen.
Despite not even considering that our family can not be touched by cancer, our younger daughter was recently diagnosed with an aggressive cervical cancer, which unexpectedly developed between two yearly pap smears. A very big part of her cervix has been surgically removed, and, at the age of 32, she will undergo a hysterectomy. Despite the oncology gynaecologist being very optimistic, it does not alleviate our fear - this is too close to home. Fortunately, a special colleague is assisting her on her journey - I'm her mom and I want to only remain her mom and support her. Their children are only five and two, they are still so small. Of course, we are positive that she will be okay, and see their children growing up.
Being a volunteer for CANSA has been very inspiring and gratifying. I am involved in many fundraising projects, as well as in other roles. I know that what I contribute, only makes a small difference, and I know I am a small cog in a very big international wheel, Despite that, it is inspiring to know that together with the CANSA staff members and other volunteers (as well as with international organisations and their volunteers) we are fighting cancer together and working towards a cure.
I initially became involved as a member of the organising committee of the CANSA Relay For Life, an event at which we honour and celebrate cancer Survivors, thank their Caregivers and remember the loved ones who have passed. I still experience amazement and wonder when I see that Relay For Life, which originated in the USA, has so many international partners all over the world. I am honoured to have been elected as a Global Hero Of Hope in 2020, indicating that I am a Survivor, albeit with thyroid cancer, who inspires hope and represents CANSA.
Every CANSA Relay For Life is inspiring and incredibly special, from the opening lap walked by the cancer Survivors to the candle-lighting ceremony to remember the loved ones lost to cancer. The CANSA Relay For Life will always remain the event closest to my heart.
I will continue to support patients diagnosed with cancer and their families until I retire. I want to remain a volunteer for CANSA, and I will remain a member of an international force fighting cancer, for as long as I can.