WELL IT'S THE DAY OF THE RACE AND I JUST WANT TO THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART FOR SO MUCH LOVE AND SUPPORT AND CASH. YOU ARE AMAZING.
The C word and me
I first heard the C word back in May 1976; I was 9 years old and can remember my mum sobbing and talking to my brother about it. I thought it strange that she didn’t mention it to my dad but dismissed it. She had just found out that her sister Gilly had been diagnosed with it. It was just a word. I didn’t know what it meant, nor did I know the affect it was going to have on those I took for granted and whom I loved.
Within 1 year of hearing it I learnt how it would destroy things I held dear and would in effect put an end to my childhood. I lost not only my aunt, but a close friend of my mums in Canada and finally my beloved father in the March. He died at home a mere shadow of the big muscular man who held me tight and protected me and whose love was one of the great ones in my life.
Within 6 years of hearing the word my beautiful, strong mother was also ravished by the deadly throes of it, suffering from it in secondary form.
Four deaths’, of which two moulded who I am today. Funny as a child my parents did charity work at an orphanage, and I felt so lucky to have mine around me, and yet here I was at 15 in the same boat.
I have always been conscious of it but tried not to think about it till I experienced a reality check a couple of years ago and was forced into saying the word out loud, almost in defiance. I felt if I could say it then it wouldn’t touch me. So when I found a lump late at night on 2 July 2007 the first thing that I screamed was the dreaded C word – Cancer.
After an agonising month where I had a number of tests during which every possible emotion raced round my head I was told it was stress related, nothing more. Not cancer………….. this time, as the Doc so kindly pointed out reminding me that I had been lucky. After this I started to knit to help my stress and it does which again bought me a bit closer to mum as she was an avid knitter and now I find myself talking to her when I am stuck on a pattern.
Shook me up enough to make me realise I was not immune, none of us are, and next time I may not be so fortunate.
And so we come to the present day. Last year on 6 May 2008 my brother Rod was taken so very cruelly by this merciless illness just days after diagnosis and just days after being told he was going to be grandpa to the very beautiful and much loved Amelia.
When I saw this walk on his anniversary I knew I had to do it, to try to raise awareness and funds for this illness that has impacted the lives of so many around me.
That is my story but how many of you can say cancer hasn’t touched your life in one form or another
Dig deep, give generously and I will be eternally grateful.
Let’s try to make a small difference to someone
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