There would be about 10 patients in each
ward, all looking at each other. You see all
the stages of chemotherapy. So I read The
Spectator! Luckily, touch wood, apart from
losing my hair, I’ve managed to feel pretty
well in terms of the nausea and mouth
sores – rather unattractive things!
“But the funny thing was all the stupid
little beanies I had to wear in the winter
when I was bald and cold. I said: ‘I’m not
wearing a beanie, I hate them!’ You won’t
believe this, but I had a girlfriend in
Benalla, Victoria, who went into a garden
centre and found these hats – you’d have
thought were made by [Melbourne
milliner] Wendy Mead! They were like
cloches. So I sewed a beautiful full-blown
rose on to one, and had a little bumblebee
pinned to the front of the other. I happily
wore them instead.
“I’ve had the most wonderful support.
Everyone says they go past my house and
there’s a ‘casserole parade’, as they call it,
out the front. It’s all my friends bringing
me food. Not that I was really feeling ace.
But it was support, and I’ve had lovely
visits and flowers as well. Because I’m still
just being myself, even though I have this
disease, people feel comfortable being
around me. They feel it isn’t an effort to
come and see me or to talk about it. Not
that we talk much about it much, actually.
We’re more likely to discuss what we’ll
wear to the next Melbourne Cup!
“Telling the children was tough. The
most emotional was telling Annie [middle
daughter Ann Peacock], because she lives
in Melbourne, the closest to me, and she
was coming to the hospital regularly.
Caroline [Cordeaux, Lady Renouf ’s eldest
daughter] is in Adelaide, but she would just
take over the household and cook up
a storm. And, of course, Jane [youngest
daughter Jane Chapple-Hyam] would
come in and take charge: rules are rules,
facts are facts – all very, very wonderful.
They were so supportive. They’d constantly
rouse on me, but particularly Jane.
“You always love and adore your
daughters, but you see them in a different
light when you have this sort of disease.
And they’ve had to cope, too. I know it’s
been hard for them to come to grips with
the whole situation. Then I’ve got my
darling little grandsons, and they keep me
going. Three boys: Christopher is in
Adelaide but I’ll definitely be seeing more
of him and Caroline this year, because he’s
started boarding school [in Victoria].
His first exit is this weekend and it happens
to be my first exit from chemo, so we’re
going to have some fun together! And I’m
going to Grandparents’ Day at Scotch
College in a fortnight with the other two
because I wasn’t able to make it last time.
“I’ll tell you a funny story. Jane trains
racehorses in England, and when she came
to Melbourne after I’d had the diagnosis,
she said: ‘Do you think we could name
a racehorse after your doctor, Lara?’ And
I thought, what a good idea! Dr Lara
Lipton is someone so un-horse-worthy –
she’s very petite. Whoever is providing the
name for the horse has to give permission,
so she gave her permission and off went thenotice to the jockey club in England. Now
we have a four-year-old horse called Lara
Lipton! She’s actually a bit frisky in the
stalls, so I think she might make a very
good broodmare.
“At Christmas, Jane came out and
brought photos of the horse, so the nurses
in the hospital had Lara Lipton all draped
up in garlands. She’s the prettiest horse,
our Lara, and she has a little star on her
forehead. We hope we get a few little wins
out of her. Just don’t call Lara a horse, and
don’t send her a bag of grain! But I thought
it was very sweet of Jane, and she feels that
contact, in a funny way, between [the
horse] and me. So we have a bit of a giggle.
“I think one has to be realistic and say
I will always have ovarian cancer, but it can
be managed. As Lara says, she has the
world of oncology at her fingertips. So
I say: ‘What, you don’t want me to rush
over to Mexico and have a coffee enema?
Or go to a Swiss clinic?’ And she says: ‘No
Susan, you just stay right where you are –
the treatment is all at my fingertips.’ I have
utter confidence in her, which is important.
You do have to find the right person that
will help you along this tough journey.“There needs to be more awareness in
today’s society among women about this
hideous disease, ovarian cancer. I know
breast cancer gets wonderful support from
the McGrath Foundation, and on the
other side, prostate cancer has been coming
to the fore for men. But ovarian cancer,
which is very hard to detect, has been a bit
pushed into the background. So as a
woman and having been diagnosed with it,
I felt I wasn’t running a fair race! You have
people like Angelina Jolie speaking out
about the [abnormal BRCA genes]. My
oncologist said following her discussion,
they’d never had so many inquiries about it
and about ovarian cancer. I don’t mind
speaking about it, because I’ve got ovarian
cancer. And I think I’m coping well so far.
“I had that [abnormal BRCA] gene.
I was chatting with my sister-in-law and
she was sure my mother had died of ovarian
cancer. I said: ‘Oh no, mummy died of
a brain tumour when they were posted in
London.’ And she said: ‘Oh yes, but she
also had ovarian cancer, but the men didn’t
discuss that sort of thing back then.’ So we
went into the records, and sure enough, she
did die of ovarian cancer. So I was tested
for the gene and my children were tested
for it, but luckily all three of them were in
the clear. It’s another big step in the
direction of early diagnosis.
“For some reason, women are often
reluctant to have ‘that area’ investigated.
Hopefully they can overcome that. If you’re
not feeling well, why not go to your doctor?
You send children off if they’re feeling sick,
and yet you don’t look after your own
health. The doctor isn’t going to say you’re
a hypochondriac. They’ll have a look at
you. We need to keep it in the forefront of
women’s awareness – like have little
messages on the walls of waiting rooms.
“With the help of friends and family, I’m
still having a lot of fun. I even made the
Melbourne Cup last year, which was
wonderful! You’ve got to have these
highlights, rather than sitting at home
encased by four walls, because you’d go
crazy. I’ve got a girlfriend with a birthday
today. I’m still getting used to having this
dry martini in my system, so I considered
not going. But I decided I’d just travel on.
It’s a matter of pacing yourself. That’s my life
at the moment – it’s a little stop/start. But
my motto? Always live life to the full.” ■
The Ovarian Cancer Research Foundation’s
annual White Shirt Day is on May 1. For
more information, visit http://www.ocrf.com.au.“YOU ALWAYS LOVE
AND ADORE YOUR
DAUGHTERS, BU T
YOU SEE THEM IN
A DIFFERENT
LIGHT WHEN YOU
HAVE THIS SORT
OF DISE ASE. IT ’S
BEEN HARD”104 – MAY 2015
vogue VOICES