Week 24 - Being diagnosed with breast cancer in 2003 was a wake-up call for Dr Hannah, sending her on a painful year-long journey she now realises was a precious second chance. Fearing she had limited time left, she kept a diary for her two young children - a diary she now makes public to inspire others
As soon as people knew I had completed my treatment, it was as if I was no longer allowed to rest. My boss called me for a meeting at work. A professor asked me to write a palliative care training curriculum for family doctors. A reporter wanted to write an article about my research study. I was even offered another job!
I did not feel capable of doing anything after nine months of hibernation. But they prescribed work to encourage me that I could still do the things I used to do.
My cancer was an alarm bell and in a way trying to do everything in the past had nearly killed me. My dad said to me: 'Do your best but not better than best, for overdoing it can be worse than not doing anything at all.' I must learn to say 'stop' to myself and 'no' to others. But I can't ignore every opportunity that comes my way. I need to strike a balance.
On July 1, 2004, I returned to work at the hospice. A beautiful book with everyone's words of best wishes was lying on my desk waiting for my arrival.
As I walked into the ward, I felt perplexed and asked myself not 'Who am I?' but 'What am I?' 'Am I a doctor, a relative or a patient?' A small voice whispered, 'You are a person.' Having taken on these three different roles over the past few years, I can now care for my patients not only as a professional but also as a whole person. It is as if I have acquired an extra medical qualification and could say to my patients: 'I know exactly how you feel.'
A new trainee doctor also arrived for his first day and I must have left him with quite an impression. As I was giving him a tour of the hospice, the ward gave me a huge bouquet of flowers. He must have asked himself: 'Gosh! What sort of doctor is she?'