The Arctic Ice, "Mary Doll," and Why I’m Choosing to Live: My Journey to Svalbard

Hello, lovely people. Suzy Rook here. On the 8th of June, I am doing something a bit mad (even for my standards). I am swimming 1,000 metres in the Arctic ice waters of Svalbard just shy of the North Pole. Just me, my swimsuit, my goggles, and a swim cap. In the cold water community, we call this swimming "skins only." No thick neoprene, no thermal Armor. If I am lucky, the water temperature will be a bracing 1 degree Celsius right in front of a looming glacier. Months of gruelling training, learning the front crawl from scratch, and forcing my body to adapt to the deep freeze are behind me. But the real training started long before I ever looked toward the North Pole. It started in the darkest corners of the last few years. Meeting "Mary Doll" As some of you might know, I noticed a large mass on my neck during my last pregnancy. From 2019 through the Covid years, it was scanned and checked multiple times. Medical professionals didn't think it was anything sinister. But it kept growing, getting bigger and more heavy as time went on. Eventually, it started stealing my breath. I felt like I was choking constantly, and my voice was permanently hoarse. The lump was significantly impacting my health, so I gave her a name to cope: "Mary Doll. "On the 1st of September 2025, I underwent a massive operation to have Mary Doll evicted from my throat. It left me with a seven-inch scar carved straight across my neck—a brilliant conversation starter, to be fair. The physical recovery was grim, but as the old saying goes: "Ya canni keep a geed woman doon. "Six weeks later, the pathology results came back. That 10cm mass they pulled out of me? It was cancer.

Down, But Not Out. I’m not going to sugar-coat it for you: finding out I had cancer was an absolute shock, and navigating the emotional aftermath has been incredibly difficult. I’d be lying if I told you otherwise. Having three very young children makes the word "cancer" sound a million times scarier, because you realize your health is no longer just about you. We chose to protect our babies from the heavy details to save them the worry. Inside, I was processing a tidal wave of trauma.

Over the last decade, my mental health has taken an absolute beating. Like most folk, I've had my share of heartbreak. But the end of 2024 and early 2025 brought an influx of grief that nearly broke me.In December 2024, I lost a dear life friend to cancer. She had been my "person" since I was 14 years old, a second mum to me. Her loss left a massive, aching void. A few months later, it was my turn to face the exact same disease. Then, early this year, my dear neighbor, who was on the same cancer journey as me, sadly lost her battle. On top of that, I have been carrying the heavy, agonizing grief of losing a close 30-year-old female friend to suicide.

By January 2026, my mind was buckling under the weight of it all. As a retired international rugby player and a professional working in social care, I knew all the theory. I knew how to access support. I knew that feeling overwhelmed was a completely normal response to abnormal amounts of trauma. But knowing it doesn't make the heaviness go away.I strongly believe that prolonged stress, heartache, and trauma eventually demand a toll from your body and your mind. Cancer was just the last straw. Why the Arctic? Because I Can. So, how does a self-confessed "tornado" handle a breaking point? With a bit of help from my ADHD impulses, I accepted a challenge that forced me out of my own head. I needed a focus. I needed a reason to fight back. I decided to swim the Arctic because finding out I had cancer taught me one undeniable truth: what is worse than facing death is not living life to the full. I am not one to miss an opportunity anymore. I am doing this because I can. Because I am still here to do it. The cold water has been my daily scaffolding. I have wild-swam since I was a child, but after Covid in 2020, I started using the water intentionally to manage my mental health. When my neck wound finally healed enough in November 2025, I started a daily immersion challenge. Today marks Day 200 of a consecutive 10-to-20-minute daily swim. Through the freezing Scottish winter, in the sea, lochs, and waterfalls, the water kept me honest and kept me grounded. For the last ten days, I’ve even been training in an ice chiller to mimic the exact conditions of Svalbard. My physical recovery is going wonderfully, and I am absolutely delighted to say I am currently all clear of cancer. My mind is still processing the trauma, and it likely will for some time. I have good days and bad days. But I am strong, I am confident, and I am choosing a positive mental attitude. I want to live with zero regrets.

A Message to Anyone Struggling. I am using this Arctic expedition to scream a few vital messages from the rooftops: Under 40s get cancer too: Pay attention to your body. Do not leave anything that does not feel right. Check yourselves. Mental health awareness is critical: It is 100% okay to not be okay when life hits you with successive waves of trauma. You are never alone: If you are drowning in the dark right now, I see you and I hear you. Be brave and reach out. Speak to your GP, a stranger, an online support group, or an amazing charity like Back Onside. Your life is absolutely worth the fight. Let’s Get to Business.

Ironically, I originally started my serious cold-water journey back in 2021 with a 30-day cancer fundraiser. We really never do know what is around the corner, do we?This swim is a celebration of survival, a tribute to the beautiful souls I’ve lost, and a lifeline for my own recovery. I couldn't have made it to day 200 without my incredible family, my friends, my rugby family, and the beautiful Swim Queens community.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for visiting my JustGiving page. Your donations go directly and securely to charity to fund vital mental health and cancer awareness support. Follow my journey on Facebook, Instagram, or TikTok for daily ice-chilled updates—if you dare!

Get in that cold water, folks.

It’s a total game-changer.

Love yas always, over and out. #BOSH 🩷🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🥶🐻‍❄️🩷