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From my point of view

I’m acutely aware that I didn’t update my readers on the situation following The Night Before Test Results. Yeah…sorry about that. Thank you for sticking with me anyway, and for coming back to this badly-designed website to read and learn with me.

The Bad News

In April 2021 I was re-diagnosed with breast cancer for the third time. This time, following many tests (much cannulation), having a port fitted for the second time, and my first experience having a PET-CT scan, I received a call from Dr Shah explaining that they could see it throughout my skeleton and that they refer to it as the whole skeleton.

I just wrote down the body parts he said – sternum, pelvis, upper arms, femurs, spine, neck and ribs. Oh, let’s not forget the bloody lymph nodes too. But no evidence of cancer in any organs yet.

Dr Shah emphasised that it was treatable.

All I heard was that I’m definitely going to die from cancer. And whilst we don’t know when that will be, I won’t live to old age. I was absolutely devastated and could hardly stand when I got off the phone. I was alone at my parents’ house and just stared out of the window as it sunk in.

What the FUCK. What the fucking fuck is going on. I’m actually going to die.

And then it all came out; I let the floodgates open. I wanted to document it sooner but I didn’t have the words. So I filmed it. I wanted to share what true horror feels like.

Just after I’d got off the phone

So many damn thoughts in my head. Mollie. My business. My parents. Lack of money. Being alone. Having to probably use a wheelchair one day. The house. The sad feeling that I just came here for a short while and messed everything up then fucked off again. The sadder feeling that I would be leaving this world feeling that I’d never made a meaningful, long-lasting and secure romantic connection with a man.


I am now receiving a cocktail of drugs to stabilise cancer and improve my quality of life. Whilst this is palliative care, it isn’t end-of-life care which would be something different. The main drug is an oral medication called Abemaciclib. You can’t get that on the NHS, but you can get it through the UK’s cancer drugs fund (CDF). It does pretty much the same as chemo, without the nasty side effects. Right now, with the NHS under severe pressure to tackle the backlog created by COVID, I couldn’t be more relieved to be receiving treatment privately. Even though it’s RIDICULOUSLY expensive, especially now that Covid has forced those that can afford it to go private.

In addition to Abemaciclib, I’m receiving Fulvestrant as an intramuscular injection, and the usual Zoledronic acid to strengthen my bones, just on a monthly basis now.

And the mental health…?

I hadn’t realised, until I started this medication, just how sick I’ve been inside my head, heart and soul. Anxiety and mental exhaustion are veritably debilitating. When business got tough in the first half of this year, I was throwing up every morning and I didn’t know why. I was on work calls, muting myself and staying off camera so I could vomit, then coming back and continuing the meeting. It felt like no one cared. My weight dropped, I lost motivation, couldn’t handle meeting friends and I stopped cleaning and gardening.

In the week of my diagnosis, it felt like my life was falling apart.

I desperately needed to take time off – the doc wanted to sign me off sick and I said to him “It isn’t going to happen; if I take time off, there’s no one to steer the business.” Work-wise, we were at a key point, dealing with one of the most narcissistic and malevolent clients I’ve EVER had to work with. I couldn’t see a way out.

It took six months, a gastroscopy and reaching the point in July where I felt nothing was worth living for, that it’d really be better if I was just gone already, that the professionals stepped in and prescribed pregabalin. I won’t say it’s healed everything, but I feel far more able to cope and function. Writing this now, seeing my face in so much mental pain – it hurts.

Single people with cancer

According to the American Cancer Society, “Single people who have cancer often have the same physical, psychological, spiritual, and financial concerns as people with cancer who are married, have a partner, or are in a relationship. But for single people, these issues can be more concerning and getting through treatment can be harder in some ways.” You’re telling me.

As you may know, I had a double mastectomy and a reconstruction back in 2018. I decided not to bother with nipple reconstruction; this is an incredibly personal choice and I respect that many women choose to have them reconstructed in order to feel whole again. In my view, I couldn’t see the point, because I have zero sensation there. So having nipples wouldn’t have served me. During the throes of our breakup, my ex-husband quipped “At least I’ll get to play with a woman who has nipples now.” Dismissing this as his dark humour, which I had previously accepted in other forms, he cackled as I stared back at him in disbelief, definitely not laughing. The insensitivity was shocking.

In fact, since then I’ve found that decent people don’t care about the damage to my body. It tells a story of resilience. Dating, however, is an entirely different ball game.

Who would date me now?

I’ve given up and ditched any desire to nurture a romantic relationship since I found out I was ill again.

I was seeing a lovely man earlier in the year and we broke up because I couldn’t fit him into my life – motherhood and the business completely took over and with us being under lockdown it was hard to keep going. When he dumped me as a self-preservation measure, I accepted that I couldn’t meet his needs. In spite of that, we developed a closeness afterwards, and by early April, we seemed to be back on. Until I got my diagnosis, and he said he couldn’t bear to lose me, so he couldn’t be part of my life as a love interest. At the time, I was unbearably hurt. But I understood completely where he was coming from. After a break without contact, we’ve got back in touch and we now enjoy a secure friendship.

As a walking contradiction, of course I sometimes wish I could meet somebody new – but I don’t want to put them through the pain of losing me. And I don’t want them to see me as somebody who’s broken, who needs constant care. I have more confidence in my body image than I’ve ever had before and I make friends easily; I’d be lying, however, if I said there’s no layer of holding myself back because of this stupid death sentence.

Hugs and tears with a beautiful friend

It has taken me 2 years to recover from my last relationship and I still don’t feel like I’m fully there yet. I went from being a confident person, to an anxious wreck, and it’s been hard to bounce back. But I am getting there. I’ve made peace with that experience and I enjoy a lovely social life now, with kind, good people, and I don’t feel alone with them. They know who they are. Thank you from the bottom of my soul.

I feel alone when I have difficult decisions to make, or tough conversations to have, and I find myself reaching out to people I trust for help with them. And then I feel incredibly guilty about it; people have had tough years of their own since Covid hit. They don’t need to hear me whinging. I still sometimes feel out of control of my life. Like I’m weak and I don’t deserve the success I have had in my career, because of things I missed early on, or mistakes I made whilst learning. I’ve had malicious tweets from people who know what I’m going through and still want to kick me. Believe me, nothing / no one can kick me harder than I do myself. But my soul is healing and most days I am okay. I just take each day as it comes.

On with the job

Treatment has become routine, I am tolerating it well, and I’ve been on a journey of self-reflection, grief and emotional healing. Physically, I feel well, aside from a couple of side effects. There are a few things I’ve been working on for the business that have come through for me, with support. Now my focus is on strengthening further and learning to stick up for myself. The greatest lesson is in handling toxic people, and learning to handle my situation without the support of a loving partner. A person can only take on so much at once.

Thanks very much for reading this; I’ve tried to be honest and share what I’m comfortable sharing. I must emphasise that I don’t need/want anybody to feel sorry for me. I just wanted to shine a little light on what it’s been like, because it helps me process this, and I know I want to read the stories and truths of similar people, so maybe they might want to see mine. There’s a lot more, that I’d prefer to discuss in person. And there’s more I will write when I’m feeling up to it. Much love, Gem x

Learn Salesforce with Gemma - Week 14
Hurricane Gemma


  • Commenter's Avatar
    Nadia — 12/09/2021 at 9:43 pm

    This is so beautiful Gem and it was so heart-wrenching to see you so upset.

    The only part I didn’t agree with was when you said “The sad feeling that I just came here for a short while and messed everything up, then fucked off again.” I am sorry you felt this way because this is soo bloody untrue! You are an inspiration to soo many women, (including myself) in so many ways that I cannot write it. Your legacy will live on long after you are gone! You founded Ladies Be Architects, you have helped so many women including, daughters, wives and mothers to achieve their dreams. You have not only made a difference in their lived but also in the lives of their spouses, parents, and children.

    I have people calling me left, right and centre wanting to hire me because I worked with ‘Gemma Blezard’. You are a celebrity in the Eco-system. You have achieved everything and more that I want You to achieve in my life.

    Life is not measured by how long we have lived but by how much we have lived!

    • Commenter's Avatar
      Gemma — 12/09/2021 at 10:22 pm

      Nadia thank you and I am so pleased to hear you are getting lots of interest. I meant what I said about giving you a reference x I will write it as soon as I can get some time – I want to do you justice x

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Brooke O'Brien — 13/09/2021 at 3:30 pm

    You will never fully realize the impact you’ve had on, likely, thousands of us who had or have aspirations to be leaders in our field. I, for one, will always be grateful you chose to share your wisdom and bring people up. It was, and still is, inspiring. Your diagnosis sucks donkey balls for sure. I wish it weren’t so. Cancer has taken so many friends and family way before their time. I hate it and it blows. But you are still here, right now. You are still making a difference, even today. You have such a gift and your legacy will live on, long past all of us. Because, you know, the internet is forever. (hugs) F cancer.

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Jonathan Acuña — 13/09/2021 at 5:35 pm

    You are such a force for inspiration Gemma. You have made such a difference in the community and will continue to inspire many more. You are so strong, nothing can stop you!

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Theresa Durrant — 13/09/2021 at 9:00 pm

    Hi Gemma, I just wanted to say how moved I am by your honest and moving account of what you have been through. No one can ever truly understand how you feel, because like life, illnesses are unique experiences and no one can ever truly walk in another persons shoes. We often see cancer sufferers described as ‘brave’ or ‘strong’ usually by non-cancer sufferers (like me)… but is that even helpful? All we want is for you to put our minds at ease, because cancer is a truly devastating disease that changes us permanently. But for just one moment, we were able to have a glimpse into your reality to witness the pain you’re going through; the uncertainty of a future that could be taken away before it should; your fears for Mollie; the loss about never having that deep and meaningful relationship with someone… And whilst we get a fleeting glimpse into the hell you’re going through, we are comforted by the fact we get to go back to our own lives. Your honesty will certainly make me behave differently in future towards anyone who gets such a devastating blow in life.

    And to echo the sentiments of others. The legacy we leave behind isn’t always so black and white. A legacy isn’t always measured by one big act, but often by the many smaller acts that changes people’s lives. You may feel you haven’t fulfilled your destiny….but I would encourage you to think about your daughter and the life you have given her; the friends and family you have supported and loved over the years; the countless number of people you have inspired and helped gain skills which has improved their lives and the lives of their families; the business that you set up that supports your employees and provides for them and their families; the contributions you have made to so many organisations that has provided jobs to thousands or helped charities make a difference in the world….the list goes on…all of which will have a lasting impact for generations to come.

    “The goal is not to live forever, but to create something that will” and in that, you have already achieved a thousand times over!!

    However, your journey is far from over….. I suspect that the very best of you is yet to come!

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Melissa Hill Dees — 14/09/2021 at 12:59 am

    You are such an incredibly special human being to me. I agree with others that you have no idea of the influence you have in this world. There is so much success I would never have achieved without you in my life. I’m a terrible long distance friend but I’m looking forward to hugging your neck until it’s embarrassing as soon as I can get back to the UK. And remember, you can whine to me anytime. Love you bunches!

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Ayako Sawada — 15/09/2021 at 7:21 pm

    Dearest Gemma, you are a true star to many and certainly to me! Ever since you shared about your story at a Salesforce community group in the Netherlands, you’ve been my greatest inspiration in my professional life. If there is anything I can do to return you a favour, count me in please.

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Cathy Westbury — 24/09/2021 at 11:09 pm

    Gemma, I am so sorry you are going through this. Please know how inspiring you are to so many people, and how many people care about you even though they’ve never met you.
    You are strong and amazing.
    And fuck cancer.

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Anna Tso — 08/10/2021 at 1:42 pm

    Gemma we’ve only met once while in the new York bluewolf office during the SA and TA CTA prep summit but since then I’ve listened to you via ladies be architects recordings on YouTube… Even have fallen asleep with those playing at night while studying. You have made an impact far beyond what you know and could imagine. I’m honored to have met you once and to have learned from you many times. Thank you for sharing and being so vulnerable. There are many who will never forget you or your legacy you’ve created ❤️

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Shweta — 08/10/2021 at 9:10 pm

    Hi Gemma. I want to tell you that I have a teaching background and recently started learning Salesforce and passed my Admin certification. Now aspiring to be a Salesforce Business Analyst. It all started after watching your video on You tube and the more I knew about you the more fascinated I became to join the Salesforce community. You are my inspiration and you will always be. Stay strong , you are not alone. You have many people praying for you and miracles happen. You will come out of it.

  • Commenter's Avatar
    Dave — 29/12/2021 at 6:23 am

    No updates in quite a while, and hoping everything’s ok, or as ok as can be expected.

    • Commenter's Avatar
      Gemma — 01/02/2022 at 12:29 am

      Hi there, I’m doing okay thank you. Quite busy with a few things so it’s been hard finding the motivation to write for a while; I’m very focused on The Architech Club between chemo treatments. I’ve got something brewing; stay tuned and thanks for continuing to support me! X

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