As a lot of my Facebook friends might be aware, I was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer nearly a year ago. From that moment my life went into a whirlwind of surgeries, hospitals, doctors, nurses and hard decisions. After my first major surgery to remove my left ovary and fallopian tube, I went through the process of egg freezing. Less than a day after my operation to retrieve my eggs, I had surgery to insert a port into my chest for chemotherapy and began the treatment 3 days later. I've added a little snapshot from my chemo journal from what it was like below:

April 2nd

"Well, the last round of chemo was HARD. My Monday through Friday week of Etoposide and Cisplatin felt nothing short of electively pumping poison into my body. I would escape through people’s Instagram stories of their magical, beach-y Spring Breaks but also secretly envy them for being able to feel normal.

It’s pretty difficult to describe how exactly chemo feels, and I think in a lot of ways it’s different for everyone. The drugs pumping into my system never hurt, but it was the after-effects that made me wish that the only pain would be the pumping of drugs.

They say chemo is cumulative, and in my case this was very much true. For some reason it makes me think a little of the SNL skit about the alien abduction called “Close Encounter.” Through cycle one I was feeling more like Cecily Strong and Ryan Gosling – everything was all rainbows and butterflies. Come cycle three, and I’m feeling like Kate McKinnon having not-so-hot of an experience. I might as well have gone out of a big airplane toilet and dropped onto a Long John Silvers.

Half way through the week I got to a point where I spent the mornings getting ready to chemo whimpering to myself. By Friday I didn’t even have the energy to whimper. I felt bad that I wasn’t being as bubbly with the nurses and wanted to be my usually chatty self, but I felt all attempts at conversation from my side came out as confused and mumbled words. After a five to six hour day, I would crumble back into bed where I’d spend the hours trying not to focus on the dizzying, burning with nausea feeling until I woke up and did it all again.

The weekend felt as though all of the chemo from the course of the week was stuck in my stomach on the intensive spin setting found on your average washer/dryer. I would struggle to sleep but wanted to be passed out so that I wouldn’t have to feel. If my life was a movie, this would definitely be the part where I’d click fast forward and heat up the popcorn. My big boring accomplishments each day consisted of moving my butt from the bed to the couch, or being able to climb up the stairs, only to proceed to lay at the top for 10 minutes while I caught my breath. "

After chemotherapy I ran into complications associated with the cancer, the chemo, the surgeries, the hormones, etc. including pulmonary emboli (hence the needing to catch my breath which I didn't understand at the time) and a heart operation due to 6 inches of my port catheter getting stuck between my right atrium and right ventricle of my heart.

Despite the speed bumps along the way, I'm incredibly lucky that my cancer was as curable as it was due to the incredible chemotherapy cocktails that are out there to fight it. I'm incredibly lucky that I can call my complications 'speed bumps.'

Still 11 women die every day from ovarian cancer, and ovarian cancer faces chronic underfunding compared with other cancers. Target Ovarian Cancer’s campaigns tackle the three biggest barriers to progress: late diagnosis, limited choice of treatments, and the isolation so often felt by women with ovarian cancer. They work with women with ovarian cancer and their families and friends, politicians, policy makers, healthcare practitioners, the media and others in the field to deliver change.

Their goal is to improve early diagnosis, fund life-saving research and provide much-needed support to women with ovarian cancer. Please help me by helping them fight for the progress we need!

THANK YOU <3