Kris: Dying to Live

This programme contains scenes which some viewers may find upsetting

"You have cancer."

Three words that changed my world for ever.

I was 23 and, after a late diagnosis,

I stared a hairless and boobless life in the face.

I had stage 4 cancer. There is no stage 5.

I know the drugs can stop working at any time.

So until then, I've got a lot of living to do.

SHE LAUGHS

Today I celebrate my cancerversary.

Four years to the day since that crappy news.

I'm celebrating being alive.

Everyone is here.

My mum, my boyfriend, Rich, and my twin sister, Maren.

My cancer was diagnosed so late

it had spread from my breast to my spine.

There is no cure.

It's terminal.

How much will I have to pay you to get in there?

I've set up a charity with my twin sister,

to ensure breast cancers are detected early.

We want young people to be aware of the signs

and not suffer the same fate as me.

So that's why I'm making this film about living with cancer.

I want to make a difference now, because I won't be around for ever.

We've always been really close, just...

Everything that we've done in our lives has always been together

and we always have had each other.

Maren has been Kristin's rock.

She understands Kristin really well. Um, they...

right from, you know, the word go.

They were born twins and it's almost like for better or for worse.

Like a marriage, that you're going to be there, you know,

for the good times and for the bad times.

I always think I'll forget to take them.

-Really?

-Maybe.

We went on holiday to Barcelona because I'd just graduated

and Kris was about to leave to go to China

and we just wanted a last kind of girly holiday with our mum.

And whilst we were there, one evening, she just said,

"I've found this lump."

I couldn't finish it all.

How long before had you, sort of found it, or been worrying about it?

-I don't know.

-You don't know?

A long time. That's all I know.

Oh, dear. Mmm.

Ages.

Ages? Like, months and months and months?

I don't know when, precisely,

but I knew something was there.

Mmm.

And it was silly, because I didn't do anything about it.

It's not possible...

'I finally went to see my GP, who told me there was nothing to worry about.'

So I went off travelling.

But when I got back, I started bleeding from my nipple.

Mum insisted I get tested.

It was eight months since my first GP visit.

I don't think I'll ever forget the minor details of that day.

The weather was beautiful.

I can remember exactly what I wore.

I wore a little miniskirt with tights and my mum said it was,

like, way too short but, anyway, I wore it anyway.

Mum drove me to the hospital

and she couldn't find a parking spot.

So she let me go in before her.

The doctor came in and just sort of walked into this tiny little room.

Um, and I was sat on a chair, not on the bed, but on the chair,

and he kind of leaned up against the bed,

um, and, in a sort of roundabout way,

just spat out the fact that I had breast cancer.

Um... I...yeah.

That was the end of innocence, really.

You just...all of a sudden you have to realise and start,

you know, working... you know, fighting.

Fighting for it and fighting against, you know, what...

what's been handed to you, this fate. So...

Deep down, I knew it was the cancer that had spread.

It was just exactly a week later that I got the results

for those scans and they said it was in my spine, too.

The hardest thing about that day was telling Maren.

I think that was even harder to hear, than the initial diagnosis

because it went from, "We can cure this," to, "We can treat this."

Or, I had in my mind that I was going to lose my sister.

What if I had checked my boobs?

What if I had gone to the doctor sooner?

Would that mean that I'd be completely fine now?

Would I, like, would breast cancer be a thing of the past for me now?

And I just don't know.

Um, so, yeah, no, that's...

that's kind of what motivates me is because

that part of the story is never going to go away

and that's never going to change

and I guess that's, kind of, I've built that kind of life for me

because of the way I reacted to getting breast cancer.

'One month after diagnosis, I started my charity, CoppaFeel.

'Almost immediately I was appearing on TV

'and in the national press.

'We're growing fast...'

-Have you got everything?

-Yep.

'..and reach over one million young women every year

'with our boob-checking message.'

There's a cab here.

Love you.

Gorgeous girls.

'This is the life cancer has given me.

'I want people to realise this isn't just a disease you get in old age.'

Are you twins? Identical, aren't you?

'And celebrities help me get the message out there.'

We got to take one all together.

Hello. Hello. Hello. Hi. Hi.

-There are so many of you.

-So, you guys are twins?

-Yes.

'It might not look like work, but this is my full-time job.'

CoppaFeel.

'Sometimes, even I forget I'm ill.'

Can we get the girls in as well?

It's 11 June 2012,

and the day that I find out that I have a brain tumour.

My doctor said he wasn't worried

and that my headache was probably nothing.

Turns out that it's actually something.

A little five-millimetre-sized something,

deep within my brain that can't be taken out.

The plan is to obliterate it.

My cancer was discovered in 2009.

It's now in my breast, spine, pelvis, hips and liver.

It's spreading, but aggressive treatments have kept me alive.

Now I have to go deal with its latest appearance

deep inside my brain.

Today we're going to the hospital to have radiotherapy for my brain

and I don't particularly want to go to have the treatment,

but I obviously really do because I need it.

I like to think that the doctors know what they're doing

but there's always that element of unknown.

And the fact that it's...

it's your brain as well,

you know, it's quite daunting.

But she's... she's a very stubborn person.

I think you can never predict what's going to happen

from one day to the next and you can never say, "Oh, I'm fine.

"I'm in remission." None of that exists.

It's just incurable and it's going to happen at some stage.

I just wish it happened, you know, a few million years in the future.

Or never.

In a way I kind of knew that this day was going to come.

I think as soon as you hear that it's in your brain,

I don't think it gets much more scary than this.

As you know, with radiotherapy, you will not feel anything at all.

The difference with this kind of treatment

or how it's a bit different,

we'll actually do the treatment to the area in what we call arcs,

and we're going to give you treatment in five arcs.

That's the little lesion. Teeny-tiny.

-It's ridiculous. That's what it is.

-I know...

-So this is the front of my head?

-That's exactly right.

-This is, like, my forehead?

-Yes.

-It's now time to go and have this treatment and it will be fine.

-Yeah?

We'll guide you through with that.

We now have the technical ability

to deliver very focused radiotherapy

with the intention of obliterating that tumour.

So, by treating a very small area, but using multiple beams

of radiation, we can minimise the trauma to the surrounding tissues.

I need to think of a really happy place right now.

And most importantly,

I know that these beams are zapping my cancer away.

So patients don't lose their hair with this treatment

and they have very little intellectual loss

and very little other morbidity to the surrounding nerve tissue.

It's about as close to a perfect treatment as you can get.

-Aah.

-Well done.

Just stay there for a minute, give your face a rub if you want.

Well done, you did really well.

'I mean, that last one was just horrible. Really horrible.

'That's the scary bit,

'but I did some visualisation

'of the tumour completely being obliterated.

'It was so overwhelming that I just couldn't help but cry.'

I am relieved it's over, um, but it's not really over.

I don't really ever feel like it's over.

Come on.

One, two, three!

Rich and I met at a festival

and I really thought,

he could potentially be my future boyfriend.

I'd already started chemo and I had no hair.

One, two, three!

I just thought, not great timing...

..and why the hell would he want to take this on right now?

When we first started seeing each other...

..for me I wasn't really too bothered about her situation

and the fact that she had cancer.

It was just that I thought she was great

and that's all that mattered to me.

The future is really scary, but I just...

I don't try to think about it.

Um...I suppose it's a cliched thing to say, but you just...

take each day as it comes and I think that's what we do.

People are always shocked to hear that my condition is incurable,

but at least it makes them take notice.

If I fall over, will you catch me?

'Like me, one in four people only discover

'they have cancer after an emergency referral.

'We don't pick up the warning signs.'

School should be banned when it's snowing.

It's another rule I'm going to enforce.

-Hello.

-Hello.

-Sarah?

-Hello, nice to meet you. Sarah Trant, head of sixth form.

-Hi.

'Young people have to be educated about cancer now.

'Going into schools to speak to teenagers is a vital part

'of my campaign to spread awareness.'

Hello, I'm Kris.

This is my sister Maren, and this is Sarah, one of our Boobettes,

and, yeah, we're from CoppaFeel

and we're going to tell you a little bit more about that.

So, I was a healthy kid.

Um, I absolutely never had any worries about, you know,

getting cancer at a younger age,

or even considering the fact that I would get cancer at a young age.

"You have breast cancer."

The most scary thing I have ever heard in my life.

I'm 23 and I'm going to die.

It's important to remember it's not just a lump, there's other things to look out for,

although it's the lump that you hear about.

And these are the common excuses that we hear.

"I just forget." "Don't even think about it."

And that's why we're here, to act as a little reminder

to look after your boobs every now and again.

But did it make you think about you and what you need to be taking on board enough?

Yeah, you don't really think you'll get it at this sort of age.

Nobody thought they were going to get this sort of thing.

It's not like someone who's 60 coming in and saying, "You might get breast cancer."

-It's just completely different, being told by someone who is a similar age to you.

-Yeah.

Especially since you found out only a few years older than we are now.

It's quite scary and it does make you think a bit more.

Do you think this is a chat that you'd have amongst your friends?

Now that you know this? Obviously you have other groups of friends maybe outside of school?

I wouldn't have before. I will now, definitely.

-Yeah, I'm more comfortable talking about it. I wouldn't be embarrassed to talk about it.

-No.

We could have this chat. Yeah. Yeah, we might go home and we'll continue this chat later.

'It's impossible to be in every classroom

'and that's what worries me.

'I want everyone to know their body.

'If they spot the early signs, they could be cured.'

The radiotherapy has blasted my brain tumour,

but the fun doesn't stop there.

Hospital visits every month, full body scans every three.

I take a cocktail of drugs that slow the spread of the disease,

but what keeps me alive also harms me.

My bones are weak, and without painkillers, I'm in agony.

Trying to warm up my veins in my arms,

because my veins have been battered so much with needles,

they disappear, because they know what's going to happen.

'When I was diagnosed

'I read that my life expectancy was just two and a half years.

'Thanks to treatment, I'm still here five years later.

'But so is my cancer.'

I suppose the fact that I put on make-up every morning makes me

quite similar to a lot of other 20-somethings.

I obviously have a job to go to, but, um, I wouldn't really say...

obviously, I don't have a boss, apart from cancer.

That's my boss.

The reason I sort of get out bed in the morning is to make sure

that I'm doing what I'm passionate about

and I guess cancer is now my passion.

God. Why is it that?

But, yeah, but I don't think I'm obsessed.

I feel like I'm just a voice for other girls going through this

at the time, or had been through it, or in the future.

I know the terror of being told you have cancer.

Young women who have been diagnosed late contact me for support.

Today we are going to Devon to visit a girl called Laura

and she was diagnosed with breast cancer about three months ago.

Laura is only 22,

about the same as me when I found the lump in my boob.

-Hello.

-Hello.

Come in, come in.

'I want to find out what happened to her.'

I was travelling in Thailand and the Philippines

and I started to feel poorly

-and then when I came back I wasn't quite right, still.

-No.

Struggled to get better for quite a while and I was sort of resting

and watching telly and things and then I saw a TV programme

and a lady on the programme was speaking about how

she had breast cancer and she had pains in her back and in her chest.

And I thought, "Well, I've been having pains in my back

"and in my chest for months and months, from about June,"

and this was in about September.

So, I didn't really think that it could be anything,

-because I was so young and I hadn't heard of anybody having it...

-Yeah.

..at my age before.

'This is a story I keep hearing.

'Laura only suspected she had cancer after watching a TV programme.

'If she hadn't turned on the telly that day

'when would she have gone to the doctor?'

-Look at your shoes!

-Yeah.

Luckily she did and it was diagnosed before it had spread.

She's just started chemo.

-Oh, is that your hair?

-Yeah. That is just from this morning.

Wowsers.

Yeah. It's amazing how much hair you can lose and still have left.

-Yeah. You realise just how much you've got.

-Yeah.

It was months before Laura got her lump checked out.

Like me, she didn't know the risks.

I can't be cured, but I need to keep working to make sure others can.

Every summer we spread our boob love,

at festivals across the UK.

It's my chance to hit as many people as possible

with a clear and simple message.

But I'm not sure how many of them are listening.

I've spoken to lots and lots of people about boob-checking.

Seems to me that lots of girls are not doing it,

surprise, surprise(!)

Erm...

Still actually amazed by the amount of girls that are going,

"No. Should I be checking my boobs?"

She's like this superwoman who is, you know, taking on the world,

trying to save lives,

trying to get... You know, beat this cancer.

And I think, sometimes, she just needs to just actually

just have a good cry about it, or just get pissed off about it.

Cos, erm, you can't... you can't keep up

that kind of superwoman act the whole time. It's impossible.

So I'd like to think that she'd...

that I'm kind of that person that she can be like that with, really.

Just be normal Kris again.

Not Super Kris who's trying to save the world.

Maren gave up her dream job to support me.

She splits her time between London and Cornwall,

where she lives with her boyfriend, Graham.

I think the last few years have put a lot of pressure on us

but...if anything, we've learnt to value our lives a lot more

and I think that makes us better people, to be honest.

All these things that happen,

make you understand more about each other

and what you're made of.

Other people have other issues, you know?

We have other issues outside of your sister having cancer.

It's not... Life isn't just about that for us, you know,

-we have other things going on as well.

-Yeah.

That's just one large component.

The emphasis is on Kris...

..because ultimately she is the one going through it.

Erm...

..and maybe...

..my feelings are sometimes maybe forgotten

and the fact that I'm often known as Kris's sister

as opposed to Maren, I think...

Before, I was Kris's sister who's not got the cancer,

I was an individual as well, with dreams and ambitions

and I certainly didn't imagine myself

in this life that I have now.

So, yeah, I struggle sometimes with the fact that my identity

seems to have been lost somewhere along the line a little bit.

# Do-do-do-do... #

So, it is...

..four days until my birthday, when I turn 27.

Hurrah!

Erm, and it's going to be a fun one.

Erm, but this week I've had treatment.

I had treatment on Monday and, erm,

and I also had to bring up the fact that I have developed a cough.

Erm, and...

I don't know if I should be worried out it or not.

-Erm...

-SHE COUGHS

That cough! That... That cough!

I'm going to shake it off.

With every ache and pain, I fear the cancer is spreading.

Can't really be bothered to go to hospital today.

Going to, erm,

get my scan results

to find out what's been going on with my lungs.

I have had this cough for ages, for, like, more than a month.

So...

..that's obviously a little bit worrying because...

..well, anything that lasts for longer than two weeks

is a bit worrying.

Er...yeah.

Let's do this.

When you get good scan results, the euphoria of the news is short-lived.

How long can I allow myself to think, "Kris, you're OK"?

The truth is, you have no real downtime from cancer

when you're living with it.

No matter how good the good news is, you get little respite.

Kristin Hallenga - here to see Dr Hadel

and Professor Stebbing.

MUSIC: "New Country" by The Walkmen

-Hello.

-Nice to see you.

-Nice to see you, too.

-Good to see you. You look well.

-How are you feeling?

-Yeah, OK.

I'll, er, just listen to your back, actually.

And again... Out.

So...

the liver lesions look smaller, which is good news.

The bone lesions look about the same, but it's...

On this type of scan you've had it's quite difficult to exactly quantify

and even qualify the bone lesions, because it's very different.

They're not like a lump, like you see in the liver,

-that you can discretely see decreasing in size.

-Yeah. Yeah.

-But it all looks very, very stable. It really does.

-And my lungs?

We can't see anything in the lungs at all.

-Like, there's nothing?

-No secondary disease, and the liver,

you know, we could see a couple of lesions there.

-Yes.

-They're a bit smaller and the bones are entirely stable.

So it's all good.

The scans are quite boring and uneventful

and all heading in the right direction, which is what we want.

Yeah, that's what we want.

But we want to be prepared, if it's not the case.

OK. But at least I know now.

I think, given that it was just that this year, I've been quite lucky.

Yeah. OK. Hopefully next year will be uneventful.

-Yes. OK. Thank you.

-All right.

MUSIC: "Close To Me" by The Cure

Yes!

Boom.

Maybe an air grab?

Yeah!

It's one of the best.

Hello.

Er, it was good. It's like a reprieve.

It's like he's given me another three- to six-month window

where I can just be OK.

'My birthdays have taken on greater significance these days.

'When I was first diagnosed, I never expected to reach my 27th birthday.

'So I enjoy each and every milestone as if it is my last.

'And I've still got so much to achieve.'

CHEERING

I've worked tirelessly for five years,

trying to save the lives of others.

We do things differently, reaching thousands with our message.

Flash mobs, stunts and lots of boobs.

We want young people to get into the habit of checking.

Early diagnosis is key for survival.

Have you got a copy of the accounts?

'We go to schools and festivals to spread the word,

'but what if I get too ill to keep campaigning?

'We need to step it up.'

The Government need to put cancer awareness onto the curriculum

and make it compulsory, because it affects so many of us.

Like, one in three people get cancer in their whole lifetime.

Surely that's a good enough reason to get people

to think about it from a younger age.

This is my campaign now - cancer awareness on syllabus.

I think some aspects of the work that we do

is an escape from the reality of, you know, her illness,

but, um, every now and again, something will come along

and it will just hit her

right back down to earth and, you know...

will put her back into that, kind of, the reality of the situation.

A friend of mine, Fran, um, she's...had

secondary breast cancer for two years now,

and two days ago she found out

it's not just in her lungs now, or her brain -

it's basically everywhere.

Not that there were many more treatment options anyway,

but they're just... There's no point in having any more chemo or anything.

So, kind of, like, that's it.

That's about everything that they can do now.

I kind of feel like she's prepared,

which sounds, like, how can you ever be prepared to die,

or, um, to know that it's, kind of, the end of your life soon?

How can you ever be prepared for that?

But she totally is,

and I've got so much respect for her for that.

The treatment I'm having will eventually stop working.

Like Fran, I want to feel ready when that day comes.

I suppose the darkest of dark is the thought of dying.

I think, more than anything, it's the people that you leave behind.

That's, I suppose, the darkest place.

If the time comes when I have to go, I just want people to know that I...

..like, was content with the life that I led.

And are you?

Yep.

These cards are pretty cool, aren't they?

'Maren and I rarely discuss the impact my cancer has

'on our relationship.'

You know the one where we're showing that we look different?

'We're preparing to give a charity presentation about being twins.

'It's brought up issues we avoid talking about.'

If I touch on the whole identity thing,

like, Kris has a stronger identity because she has cancer,

although we never want cancer to define who she is,

but everything we do

lends itself to it being the focus of her life and sense of being.

I think you saying that actually floored them completely.

Really? But it's true, though.

-No?

-No, no, it is.

It is, but, like...

I mean, it would floor anyone

because you're saying that... out loud.

But it... I don't know why that comes as such a surprise.

You're the one with the cancer, so there's more focus on you.

That's how it is.

It does do my head in when people say, you know, like, um,

just call you "Kris's sister", instead of, like, by your name.

Yeah.

Yeah.

It's hard, but I think

I probably have just gotten used to it a little bit now.

Oh, why are you getting upset?

That wasn't... that wasn't the point.

Don't start crying - we have to talk!

Has this... Does this upset you?

No.

Cos it doesn't upset me.

Otherwise I wouldn't have written it. I think...

People... We don't ever talk about it.

I know, but if it's from the outside world, it is...

it was you...kind of giving up your life.

I don't feel like I've given up my life.

I still have my life in Cornwall.

Yeah.

I know.

Plus, Hugo would have done my head in.

'My time is short

'and I want all young people to be on the lookout for cancer.

'But that's just not happening.'

The ultimate goal is for us to speak to everyone.

Not just about boobs.

And, yeah, not just about boobs - all cancers.

It's about you, your body...

and, um, and that all begins at school.

Um, and the people that can help us make sure that actually happens

are the people in that building.

Scary.

I'm going to do something big,

that will grab the attention of the people at the very top.

Compulsory cancer education is my goal.

Something good has got to come out of the fact

I have this shitty disease.

After all, a third of you lot are going to get cancer too.

Um, we are here on the bridge already.

'Tonight we are projecting an image of our three party leaders -

'Clegg, Cameron and Miliband - onto the Houses of Parliament,

'with the fact one in three people are diagnosed with cancer.'

-Um, I'm just going to keep you on the phone,

-OK? OK. Cool.

We're going to set up, James Bond action style.

We won't have long to project it either

because we could quite easily be told to move along.

Just need to get the money shot.

OK, we're ready.

Oh, God, I feel sick.

Oh, my word.

Look at it!

Our first photo. Our first image.

Looks amazing.

Um, it looks pretty cool, actually.

Oh, that looks good.

OK, cool, there's the hand. Awesome. Yeah, that's cool.

Oh, here we go, I think we're going to be told to move on in a minute.

OK.

We've got... We've got a problem, I think.

Er, OK, it's game over, apparently.

Game over.

It looks like there's some policemen that have just rocked up.

Whereabouts are you from?

Um, we're a breast cancer charity.

Right. Could I take your date of birth, please?

11.11.85.

OK.

What... Is this a full-time job for you, then, is it?

Yeah, um, I started the charity four years ago.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 23.

-OK.

-So our job is to make sure that young people are aware

of the signs and symptoms now.

As long as I don't see them

now being whisked away in a police car, then it's a success!

I'm hoping they'll just let us go and that'll be the end of that.

Not knowing I could get breast cancer at my age -

because I was 23 - and then that leads to late diagnosis.

We have got some good photos.

I hope it's a good ending.

Thank you. Good night.

-Good luck.

-Thank you very much. Bye.

Our Parliament stunt did the trick.

'We caught the attention of MP John Baron,

'who is now our friend in Government.'

Your message about early diagnosis is terribly, terribly important

because - and I'm not exaggerating when I say -

that is the magic key to cancer.

Our schools campaign is up and running, and my cancer is behaving.

Life is pretty good.

# And you said this is the first day of my life

# I'm glad I didn't die before I met you. #

'For the past six months, we've been bombarding the UK

'with our boob alerts and having a lot of fun along the way.

But just when things are going well, reality hits.

After four years together,

Rich and I have split up.

I think saying that cancer didn't play a role in the breakup

would be a lie.

I don't know how many guys out there...um, would take this on.

I just feel so...

utterly powerless...when...

..it comes to love.

Maybe being with someone

when you know that you're going to be leaving them

is actually quite a selfish thing, anyway.

But I also believe that I...

..as much as everyone else,

have the right to be happy

and be loved by someone.

Hi, could I please order a cab?

'Where would you like to go?'

Um, Charing Cross Hospital, Fulham Palace Road.

I'd like more time to deal with the breakup,

but it's back to the hospital again.

Six months ago my cancer was stable.

Today I find out the latest results.

But I don't expect brilliant news

and I don't expect horrendous news - I just go with whatever happens.

-Hi.

-Hiya.

'I think that's the only way I can't be...

'..destroyed by anything bad.'

I have no new symptoms to report.

So I hope my scans are as good as last time.

-Hi.

-Nice to see you. How are you doing?

-Good.

-Come and sit down. Good to see you.

Good to see you, too.

Let's talk about the scans,

because obviously that's what you want to talk about.

So, the one lesion we can see on the right side of the brain -

you know that's where you had the stereotactic radiosurgery?

-Yeah, yeah.

-The gamma knife treatment.

-Yeah.

-That's bigger.

-OK.

I think it's cancer,

and the reason why I say that is

cos you can see the sort of penumbra, this sort of halo

or shadow, of swelling around the area.

-I would like to consider removing it, cos it is larger.

-Yeah.

But there is also room for more radiotherapy to it.

-Oh, really?

-Yeah. So we have a plan A and a plan B.

-OK.

Sorry to upset you. I don't mean to.

My brain tumour has grown again.

The radiotherapy didn't kill it.

One minute I've got to be grateful that I'm still here

and can be, um, can be, you know,

the person that I want to be and have my freedom, walk around,

looking like everyone else, looking healthy.

And the next I have to deal with...

..shit. Utter shit.

And I don't want to be grown up

and make decisions like, do I want brain surgery or chemotherapy?

I don't want that. I don't want that shit.

It just gets annoying and tiresome and I just feel so done.

And then I think, "Kris, you're being an idiot.

"You've so much still to do."

And how much, you know,

how much my friends who have died would give to be in my position.

And that's so much pressure.

Everything crap that's happened with cancer

has always been with Rich in my life.

I have brilliant people around me.

Friends that always make me laugh...

But that's not...

..someone lying next to you in the middle of the night,

when you wake up, scared shitless.

Hmm.

I don't think she really lets her sad,

vulnerable side show to me that much.

And when she does, I guess it takes me by surprise,

cos she's just always... I know her for being quite strong

and positive and, um...

So, yeah, when I see her like that,

I guess I feel... it makes me a little bit scared

because I think, "God, she must be in a really bad place,

"if she's like this."

It's just overwhelming...

..um...

..the feeling of, like, not being able to cope with it all.

You've never told me

that you've been scared about any of this in the past.

It is a combination of...

crap scan results and...

..what's happened with Rich and...

I could deal with everything if it was all separately,

but all together, it just makes things...

..really hard.

Especially when people just expect you to cope all the time.

Well, that's the game face you always put on.

I know.

Strong Kris.

What I've learnt is to not expect anything,

and then you can't be disappointed.

Just...

I dunno.

It'd be good if they just gave you a new brain.

Be useful.

A fresh one...

..with no worries.

There ARE worries

and news I didn't want to hear.

The doctors say it's too dangerous to surgically remove my tumour.

Surgery isn't an option because of where it is

and how deep it is and the size of it.

It's, um...apparently would probably do me more damage than good.

So...yeah.

It seems my only hope for treatment is more radiotherapy.

Hi. Please have a seat.

Just to summarise that, um,

I think, from discussions between the consultants,

the consensus is that the time is not right to jump into radiotherapy.

-OK.

-Not doing anything doesn't mean

that we're not...that we are giving up or anything like that.

It's more playing the cards right and trying to get the timing right.

Yeah. Right.

Thank you.

-See you again.

-See you.

Thank you. Bye.

We're playing a waiting game.

The tumour is small and radiotherapy would be risky.

The doctors want to save hardcore treatment until I deteriorate.

-It's just

-BLEEP

-up that I'm so well, yet there's a tumour

growing in my head, and right now we're not doing anything about it.

The only thing I do know...

is that...

..I can make the most of what I have in my life,

and I can focus on that right now.

And all the cool, cool things that I get to do

and the cool situations that I'm in,

and the fact that every day is different and vibrant and fun

and exhilarating and stressful -

all of that helps me accept what is going on in my life.

And helps me accept that...

cancer IS my life.

And it will one day claim my life.

It's just, every little bit,

every day that I enjoy and I'm grateful for

is another level of acceptance for me.

Yeah.

That's all I've gotta say about THAT!

However uncertain my future,

I'll never stop fighting to prevent others dying

from this horrible disease.

Cancer has given me a life and given meaning to what I do with my life.

'Which I'd really hope and like to think

'that I would have that kind of same appreciation of life,'

even if I didn't have cancer.

But this has just made it all the more important.

I never want to give up that hope that Kristin will, you know...

Kristin's condition is, um, treatable, if not curable and...

I don't want to hear anything else. I really don't.

I don't ever allow myself to think what it would be like without...her.

We all are going to die.

I am just aware that it might happen

sooner than I possibly, potentially, had planned.

But if there's one thing for sure...

I'm not dead yet.

# Cos there goes the fear

# Let it go

# You turn around

# And life's passed you by

# You look to those you love to ask them why... #