Olivia Newton-John - Don’t Stop Believin’

Dont stop believin, youll get by
Bad days will hurry by.

30 May 2017

My favourite time of day is magic hour, when the sun takes a dive behind the craggy mountain ranges and the sky is painted a stunning purple-pink. Im sitting there right now on a weathered stone bench allowing the day to wash over me, surrounding myself with love and light.

I smell the early summer roses and smile as our energetic German shepherd, Raven, brings me her ball for yet another toss. My wonderful husband John should be pulling up in the driveway any moment. Its a beautiful life and remains so, even though I told the world a few hours ago that my cancer had returned.

Yesterday I went in to be measured. When you have photon radiation therapy, you must be in exactly the same position every single time, so they give you small dot tattoos to make sure your body is lined up properly in the machine.

I guess this will be the fun part, I told the technician as he poked a small, needle-like pen through flesh to mark my hips.

When I saw that what hed created was no more than tiny circles, I asked, Cant you give me something a little more interesting? John and I have matching tattoos on our left ankles a spiral pattern we designed when we were in Australia on our fifth anniversary.

Hey, I thought I was only going to get a tattoo once in my life! I joked. Not fair to John now that Ill have an extra one.

We had a good laugh.

Being positive isnt always easy, but we always have that choice.

This is my third journey with cancer, which might come as a surprise. The previous one was five years ago and I kept it private, and luckily it remained so, which isnt always easy when you live your life in public.

In May of 2013, John and I were rear ended in our Prius on Highway 101 in heavy Los Angeles traffic. We were on the way to my sister Ronas house. My niece Tottie and her daughter Layla had been visiting us and they were in the backseat. Raven, our new puppy, was in a crate in the back. That poor baby was surrounded by shattered glass, we were hit that hard. For months afterwards, Raven was nervous every time I even looked at the car.

The accident was only part of what was a tough time for our family. My beloved Rona was very ill and died a short time later on 24 May of a brain tumour. And soon my own health would be called into question.

The day we had the accident, the seatbelt hit me very hard in my right shoulder. It wasnt long before I noticed a lump had formed there.

I ended up at Ronas local doctor, who wasnt overly concerned. Its most likely from the accident, she said. She did an X-ray but didnt find anything.

As time passed, I couldnt lift my arm easily, which was chalked up to a slight fracture. But why wouldnt the pain subside? In my gut, I knew it wasnt that simple and kept asking and digging. It was my body, and my instincts told me to find the real answer.

I insisted on additional testing and found that the bump was actually a recurrence of my breast cancer.

My immediate healing plan was immune-boosting IVs at a clinic in Georgia where they help people deal with illness in a natural way without prescription drugs. I did this along with continuing on a healthy diet that included many of my husbands Amazonian herb formulas. And I also consulted with my oncology team at the Olivia Newton-John Cancer Wellness & Research Centre in Melbourne. With their advice, including taking an anti-estrogenic pill, I felt I was on the right track.

I didnt tell my family or anyone else at the time, except for John, of course. There was too much going on with the loss of my sister.

When I went back for a second CAT scan, the tumour had reduced and we decided to keep an eye on it.

Life went on.

Three years ago, I was playing tennis at my close friend Pat Farrars birthday party. I hadnt played in a while and was out on the court for three hours of nonstop fun. I had a blast, sat down for lunch, and absolutely couldnt get up afterwards. This couldve been because of very sore muscles because I hadnt played in months, but I had trouble even standing and wobbled when I forced myself upright. What followed were months and months of excruciating, sleep-depriving, crying-out-loud pain.

Night after night, I hobbled on stage in Las Vegas where I was doing a residency at the famed Flamingo Hotel. The crippling back pain would flare up at the worst times, but would occasionally die down thank goodness! During a good period, a friend of mine, Joanne, who is a great tennis player, said the magic words.

Come on over, Liv. Well have a gentle hit.

I was on the court for about half an hour before a sciatic attack had me seeing stars. Despite the pain, I refused to cancel any of my shows because of a lifelong discipline instilled in me at the tender age of fifteen.

No matter what the show must go on!

But would I be able to go on? Some nights, after the last curtain call, I would limp backstage and gingerly lie down on my dressing-room floor, crying in agony. It felt like I was being tortured with hot pokers, which were being stabbed into my side, causing searing pain to jolt up and down my left leg.

In my prone position backstage with tears running through my make-up, I wasnt sure how I would ever get up. But... the show must go on and it isnt over. I still had to do my fan meet and greet, with all the proceeds going to my Olivia Newton-John Cancer Wellness & Research Centre. I only allowed myself exactly five minutes to rest and then my husband would pull me to my feet.

The checklist was as follows:

1. Wipe away the tears.

2. Fix my face.

3. Go back out there and do the meet and greet backstage for the fans.

These lovely people had sometimes waited an entire year just to say hello and I wouldnt let them down. Somehow, I held it all together while I smiled and took a few pictures. It was the least I could do for this kind of loyalty.

My last show of 2017 before my diagnosis was a concert for those who served in the military and had been awarded a Purple Heart for their bravery. I had my Liv On collaborators and dear friends Amy Sky and Beth Nielsen Chapman by my side and we honoured, among others, my father-in-law Tom, a Purple Heart recipient.