My Journey with Pancreatic Cancer
By Rachel Creane – Two Years Cancer-Free
In November 2022, I turned a luminous shade of yellow. Alarmed, I went to A&E and was admitted immediately. At first, the doctors suspected gallstones. A Scope (ERCP) revealed only microstones, but my liver enzymes were rising fast, my skin was now even yellower, and I had developed an unbearable liver itch — by far the worst symptom. It’s hard to describe how consuming it was. All I could think about was finding relief.
After a couple more scopes, in December 2022, the real cause emerged: a tumour was blocking my bile duct. I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A metal stent was inserted to keep the duct open, and slowly, the jaundice and itch began to subside.
In hindsight, my journey began a couple of months before I realised anything was seriously wrong. For 2–3 months, I’d had strange digestive issues — throwing up a few times, bouts of what I thought was a stomach bug, and a general “weak tummy” I blamed on an antibiotic I’d taken in September. Sometimes I put it down to dodgy prawns, other times to one too many glasses of wine the night before. I’d also developed heartburn, which I’d never experienced before.
What I didn’t know then was that a tumour in my bile duct was preventing my body from processing fat. Looking back, the clues were there — but at the time, life was busy. I was still exercising, and in mid-September I even completed an Olympic triathlon. It felt harder than the one I’d done in June, but I chalked it up to inconsistent summer training with the kids off school.
On December 30th, I began chemotherapy (FOLFIRINOX) — six rounds in total before surgery. My greatest source of strength through it all was my husband, Paul, and our children — Dylan (15), Rhys (13), and Myla (10) — along with our wider family. Their love and support were constant.
I was also blessed with an incredible circle of friends and community. People offered help without waiting to be asked: driving the kids to activities (“We pass your door, we’ll just do it”), delivering dinners on chemo days, dropping off care packages, going for slower than normal walks with me, chatting more than playing tennis, taking extra care of my children in school, sitting with me at appointments, and driving me to and from treatment. Thanks to them, my children’s lives continued as normally as possible— even in a year that included a First Communion and a Confirmation.
During 2023, while undergoing treatment, I served as captain of Portmarnock tennis club. That year also marked the club’s 40th anniversary, and I helped organise the celebrations — a special, unforgettable night made possible by a wonderful committee, co-captain, and vice-captain. Being captain during treatment wasn’t how I imagined the role, but it kept my mind engaged and my spirit strong. I still swam, walked, and played tennis with friends throughout treatment — those moments of movement and connection were vital in keeping both my spirit and my body strong.
In June 2023, I underwent Whipple surgery — a major operation removing part of my stomach, my upper intestine, most of my pancreas, and my gallbladder. I was fortunate to have no complications, and I was walking just two days later.
When the tumour was analysed afterwards, I received incredible news: it was Stage 1 and had not metastasised. In the world of pancreatic cancer, that’s rare — and I know just how lucky I was to have caught it before it spread. That horrible liver itch and turning luminous yellow couldn’t be ignored — and, in the end, they turned out to be both the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me.
After surgery, I began five more rounds of chemotherapy as part of my recovery plan. I faced a different kind of challenge: “No exercise for six months.” I pushed back gently — emailing my doctor two months later to say I was walking 40 minutes twice a day and asking if I could do more. The answer was still no. Another month later, I asked in person… and still no. Eventually, I was allowed back to gentle tennis and swimming, but no running.
By November 2023, I was back playing tennis and swimming. In January 2024, I was cleared to run again. By Easter, I’d added cycling, and before I knew it, I’d completed two sprint triathlons that summer, swam 6km and cycled 90km as part of a Half Ironman relay in October. The hardest part wasn’t the distance — it was overcoming the fear of falling and damaging the surgical site.
In summer 2024, I returned to league tennis and have played in multiple campaigns since, slowly rebuilding my game. I’m honoured that our wonderful Portmarnock tennis club have asked me to tell my story and raise awareness and money for the Irish cancer society.
Looking back, it was only one year out of my life — from diagnosis, through treatment, surgery, recovery, and finally returning to the activities I love. It seemed much longer then. I know I’m lucky. Lucky for the medical care I received, for Paul and our children, for our family and friends who stood beside us, and for the chance to watch my children thrive through it all.
I feel privileged to be able to move my body, play tennis and compete in triathlon’s again. This year I’m on track to complete 4 triathlon’s some of which Olympic distance.
I’m sharing my story to raise awareness of pancreatic cancer, especially a positive story — and to raise funds for the Irish Cancer Society, who provide vital support, research, and advocacy for people like me. Cancer changes your life, but with the right help, hope and joy can remain at the centre of it.
I am delighted Portmarnock tennis club and the PSLC are doing this charity fundraiser. If my journey inspires you, please consider supporting the Irish Cancer Society.
"Your generosity could make the difference for the next person who finds themselves suddenly turning luminous yellow."
Rachel, thank you for sharing your journey with us. We’re truly fortunate to have you as both a club member and a friend. Your courage and honesty shine through and inspire everyone around you.
Our whole club and community stand beside you—and with all those whose lives have been touched by cancer. Your commitment to supporting our fundraiser is a powerful reminder of why it matters so much to keep funding research and vital services. Together, we can bring about change.
Portmarnock Tennis Club Committee, Members and Friends
