After almost 10 years in the classroom, after becoming a mum and reducing my hours, I was wondering how much longer I would stay in the job. I love being an English teacher, but I have always found it hard.

On many occasions, as I watched colleagues struggle with bereavement, mental health, family illness, relationship breakdowns, I found myself wondering whether I could carry on if my relatively stress-free home life took a turn for the worse.

At the end of August this year, I found out the answer: it would be impossible.

A lump, examinations, scans, mammograms, biopsies and a lot of terrible waiting-room music all led to the news that I would need a mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiotherapy, followed by 10 years of hormone therapy to hopefully stop the cancer from returning.

Quite quickly, my thoughts turned to school. Term was due to start soon and the scariest thing about the whole situation was that there were no certainties, except that I would be having treatment. This was all the information that I could take to a shocked and sympathetic member of the senior leadership team the weekend before term started in September.

‘Filled with anxiety’

As we discussed the practicalities of my timetable, I realised that I was also going to have to speak to my head of department. This prospect filled me with anxiety. I have known my HOD for nearly 10 years, so I knew that he would be shocked and upset on a personal level.

I was also worried about how he would respond to my plan. Knowing that I was going to be taking regular time off, I was planning to suggest rearranging my timetable so that my Year 11 and Year 13 groups would be taught by somebody else; the thought of letting them down was too much to bear.

I guessed that my HOD would come to the same conclusion about the exam classes, but I was less prepared for his next suggestion: “You’re in shock, I think. Really, you should stay at home on Monday, write off this year and just concentrate on getting better.”

I wasn’t ready for this. A year off? This wasn’t something that I had considered. I knew that my HOD was only thinking of me and my recovery, but, irrationally, I felt as though I wasn’t “allowed” to be in school even if I did feel well enough.

Coming to terms with the knowledge that I would be forced into a lengthy period at home was difficult. At first, I went into a panic and felt anxious about every aspect of being off.

With help from our acting head and my GP, I put in place a “fit to work” note, which specified that I was suffering with “stress and anxiety following a cancer diagnosis, but was fit to work with amended duties” - I couldn’t teach a class, but I could provide admin support, mark work, help with displays and so on.

It turned out that I didn’t use the “fit to work” note at all (actually, finding out you have cancer takes a bit of time and energy to deal with), but knowing it was there did make me feel a lot better. Slowly, I have come around to the importance of looking after myself.

Finding support

Unlike for some people being treated for cancer, work isn’t going to be a “safe place” that I can escape to, where I can forget about the threat of the cancer cells sitting quietly in my body. I haven’t felt able, physically or emotionally, to summon the energy required to walk into school, never mind teach.

My colleagues have been wonderful, though. One, in particular, reminded me that I was still “me”, with or without cancer - and that meant a lot.

I am yet to deal with the very public face of chemotherapy: how “me” will I manage to be once I lose my hair?

I have a long way to go, but I can already confidently pass on that if you are in a similar position you need to look after yourself and take the time to be treated and recover. However, if being at school in any capacity will help you to deal with a cancer diagnosis, then have that discussion with your leadership team.

Secondly, Breast Cancer Care’s “Someone Like Me” facility helped me enormously by putting me in touch with someone who had been through a similar experience several years ago. Also, the amazing staff on the Macmillan helpline have talked to me at many a dark moment and I would highly recommend speaking to them about anything relating to cancer.

The writer is an English teacher in a secondary school