KATRINA GUCKIAN has shed a lot of tears in the last 18 months, but as she talks of losing her fertility and almost her life to cervical cancer and going through the menopause at the age of 27, not once does she get emotional . . . well, not until she talks about the guilt she feels.
"I do feel guilty, I've said so to my mum and dad," she pauses, eyes welling up.
"I've told them I'm so sorry I won't be able to give them grandchildren.
"They say it's fine, and all that matters is that I'm still here, but I still feel guilty
about that."
Not that the special needs nursery nurse has anything to feel guilty about. She, like reality TV star Jade Goody, is just one of the unlucky ones.
Cervical cancer kills 100 women in Scotland every year, it's the second most common cancer in women under 35, yet until recently remained very much in the shadow of breast cancer.
It's currently cervical cancer awareness week, yet there is little in the way of publicity about it. Katrina has even had to make her own teal-coloured ribbons for her and colleagues at Kaimes School to wear, in an attempt to raise awareness of the terrible condition.
Katrina was like any 26-year-old when she first realised something was wrong. She lived with her parents in their comfortable home in Gyle Park Gardens, enjoyed her job, had started studying part-time for a BA in Childhood Studies, and socialised a lot with her close-knit group of friends whom she'd just been on holiday with in Ibiza.
"Initially all that I had was an abnormal discharge so I went to the well woman clinic about that and they said it was probably just thrush," she recalls. "I had also had a bit of spotting in between periods, which they put down to the Pill as that can happen. That was in May 2007 and so I took the course of Canesten which was prescribed, but, of course, it didn't help.
"Then I started to get really bad abdominal and back pain and the GP gave me various painkillers. I even went to physio and an osteopath, but nothing helped. And then the bleeding started. It was horrendous, I'd never experienced anything like it. From the June to the August it got worse and worse."
Eventually her doctor referred her to the copolscopy clinic at the ERI. "I just knew there was something really wrong," she says, twisting her hands over and over again in her lap. "I had Googled my symptoms on the internet and I thought it was cancer, but, of course, my family and friends kept telling me it couldn't be.
"I had missed a couple of smears in my early 20s, which was bad on my part, but to be honest I was really unaware of why it was important."
The day before her 27th birthday Katrina, and her mum Francis, went to the clinic.
"I knew from the doctor's face I had cancer. She told me that the tumour was very big. I had expected it, but I still couldn't really believe it," says the former Craigmount High pupil. "I woke up the next day thinking I might not be here to see my 28th birthday."
An MRI scan confirmed that the tumour covered her whole cervix so the only treatment possible was a hysterectomy, followed by chemotherapy and internal and external radiotherapy treatment. As a result she would be left infertile at just 27.
"The fertility issue was what was at the forefront of my mind," she says. "I have always wanted to have children – I've always worked with them. I never thought that wouldn't be part of my life. I asked them if they could do anything to save my fertility, but there was just no way. I was devastated.
"Everywhere I looked there seemed to be pregnant women, or programmes about babies on the TV. I just wanted to know that I would have a baby.
"I got such a lot of support from the cancer services and staff at the Infirmary, and later at the Maggie's Centre and Western, but I found the fertility doctor at the Infirmary incredibly unsympathetic to what I was going through."
Katrina had her hysterectomy in December 2007 but the surgeons left her ovaries in case she might be able to have IVF in the future. However, post-surgery it was clear that the chemotherapy and radiotherapy were needed, and so her fertility would be destroyed.
"It was Christmas Eve when I got the call to say the pathology report showed the cancer had spread to the pelvic lymph nodes, vaginal wall and pelvis, so I would have to have the rest of the treatment. I just thought 'this is never going to end'.
"I was adamant I wouldn't have any chemo until I had saved eggs, so I had a six-week window to get something done.
"That's when I saw the fertility doctor who basically refused to freeze my eggs because I didn't have a boyfriend or partner. Apparently they don't freeze eggs, just embryos. I asked about using donor sperm in that case, but was told that would be unethical. There was absolutely no support for what was happening to me.
"I met a lot of young girls – some younger than me – online as well who had cervical cancer, but all already had children or a partner. It felt like I was the only one who was going through this and I didn't have a partner holding my hand and telling me it was OK, and that he loved me anyway.
"I got such a lot of support from my family and friends, but, of course, now I worry that no man will want me because I can't give him a child."
Undaunted, Katrina discovered a private clinic in Glasgow that did freeze eggs. "I asked the NHS for help with funding for the treatment but didn't get it. So it cost me and my parents £4000 for the week's course of fertility drugs and then the harvesting – I got 14 – and now the freezing of them. Of course, I would need a surrogate mother if I ever tried to have a baby."
Immediately after the eggs were harvested Katrina underwent five weeks of chemotherapy – one dose a week – and daily radiotherapy.
"There were times when I didn't feel like I was a woman anymore, which is why I was grateful my hair never fell out." Then came the internal radiotherapy, which she calls "the worst, most invasive thing".
After that, the menopause kicked in and she was put on HRT, which she will need into her 50s. It hadn't quite ended there though. A check-up a month later found a potential growth on her pelvis. "It was at that point when I thought 'I am really going to die'," she says.
"I was so scared. I'd had all the treatment they could give me so if it was cancer there would be nothing they could do. Thankfully though it was just scar tissue. I felt like I'd won the lottery. I had a massive party to celebrate. All my check-ups since have been clear."
Katrina says her brush with death has left her a more positive person. "I've done things I would never have done before," she says. "Once I felt well enough again last year I went on my own to America on a trek. It was fantastic."
But she adds: "I find it heart-breaking that cervical cancer has so little awareness. The vaccination that was recently launched is just fantastic and I would urge all girls to get it, but more needs to be done to tell them what cervical cancer is all about.
"Perhaps with someone like Jade Goody suffering from it, its profile will be raised."
Katrina is on a mission and next on her list is a charity parachute jump. "I'm going to do it in May, a year to the day I was told I was in remission. I can't wait."
'IT'S VITAL TO HAVE SMEAR TEST'CERVICAL cancer kills 100 women in Scotland every year, and 1000 in the UK.
Women are offered a cervical smear test every three years – a programme introduced in the 1980s which reduced the disease by 43 per cent. There is concern, however, as uptake rates are falling, particularly among younger women.
Elspeth Atkinson, Macmillan Cancer Support's director for Scotland, said: "It is vital that women take up the opportunity to have a cervical smear test. This can identify pre-cancerous cell changes in women who otherwise have no symptoms and, at this stage, treatment is usually very effective."
Recent research said there are an estimated two million people living with or beyond a cancer diagnosis in the UK.
For more information, call Macmillan's free confidential helpline 0808-808 2020 or visit www.macmillan.org.uk
