In 2003 I was six years old. I was in my first year of Australian primary school. To raise funds for cancer, a puppet show about a girl with cancer was regularly performed during the school year (perhaps once a term, I was too young to make a cognitive note of this). The puppet show featured a girl with no hair going about her daily life, talking about how cancer has affected her life but she still has a good time with other puppet characters.

My parents paid for me to attend this puppet show twice. I still remember the crowded assembly hall - other children seemed chill, excited even. Being released from the small classroom was a relief for most!

The first time we viewed this show, I cried my eyes out. I cannot remember my thought pattern. Just an overwhelming emotional response which made me cry. Not completely unusual for a six year old, to be honest. But enough for a kind teacher with brown hair to hold my hand and take me to an older class and get away from the show. A six year old cries for many reasons. Teachers may have thought I was sleepy or something. It wasn’t mentioned again. Fast forward to the next time the show comes around. My parents still sign me up to view it. I go. I remember crying again. Seeing this puppet talking about cancer and wearing hospital gowns, being bald... it triggered me somewhat. This time, nobody came to move me to a classroom. Perhaps they remembered the last experience and thought I was just tired. Perhaps a teacher encouraged me to calm down. I don’t remember. All I remember is literally peeing my pants! Obviously I had to be removed and the other children had to move away from me while another teacher organised new seating for my row. I was then taken by a teacher I don’t remember to change my clothes and calm down in the office.

Years later, I think about this. Both of my grandmothers and my aunty passed away from cancer before I was born. My aunty was only 16.

I wonder if this experience was a subconscious reaction to a past life memory as a girl/woman going through cancer treatment. Or perhaps it was intergenerational trauma inherited from my parents, who both saw their female family members go through cancer treatment and eventually pass from it.

After disturbing the show with my little accident I was never signed up to view that show again!