Recent Posts

You can’t take my sense of humour

You can’t take my sense of humour

Hi.  I’m Emma.  Married to Darren and co-owner of two small humans, Toby (seven) and Chloe (two), and Beagle Arthur (nine).  Lawyer by day- representing nurses, I’m now also an author by night – hopefully inspiring patients, after my unexpected journey with Breast Cancer.  Buckle 

How I dealt with my mum’s breast cancer diagnosis

How I dealt with my mum’s breast cancer diagnosis

Everyone has to die from something and 1 in 3 women get breast cancer, those are just the facts of life. That is until it happens to you or somebody close to you. As a child, my Nanny Mary had breast cancer, treatment and a 

Surviving breast cancer: refusing to take no for an answer

Surviving breast cancer: refusing to take no for an answer

Surviving cancer is as much about catching it early and being positive about the outcome, as it is about the treatment. I am Carolann Bruce, and I am a breast cancer survivor, but only because I refused to take no for an answer.

A dream with two endings

When you hear the news, ‘You don’t have cancer. Go home and live your life,’ you’d think the relief would be overwhelming, but not for me. I had had a dream that foretold of breast cancer, and it depicted two endings. And I wanted survival. 

I had been having scary dreams for a while, but this particular dream plainly and graphically showed me as a cancer patient. It was so real that I checked myself when I woke up, and I found a lump. I had a negative mammogram, and a consultant said the lump was nothing to worry about, but I insisted on further tests. He assured me that all was fine, but I refused to budge. I believed my dream.

Knowing my body and sticking to my guns

I’m glad stuck to my guns because the doctor was wrong. I had cancer. Most people would have accepted the diagnosis and gone away, only to find out the truth when it was too late, but I’m stubborn, I know my body, and I just knew my dream was true.

That was the start of a long and gruelling journey. I’m a qualified nurse, but even I didn’t know what to expect and, to be completely frank, the treatment took me to hell and back. I wrote my book to try to support and inspire other women facing the same as I did. It’s a candid insight with more than a smattering of humour because let’s face it, we’ve got to laugh to get through it. 

Writing my book ‘The dream that saved my life’

I wanted to release my book in time for World Cancer Day on 4th February to help raise awareness of this awful disease’s impact. The book lays bare what a cancer diagnosis brings, but it’s also laugh out loud funny at times, too. The publisher says: ‘With one in two people now predicted to get cancer in their lifetime, The Dream That Saved My Life is, above all, inspiring and encouraging for anyone unfortunate enough to receive that chilling diagnosis.’ Thank you, Publisher, I’ll take that!

I think my book’s main message is that, as much as we trust and admire our doctors and nurses, you must listen to your body. Don’t take everything as gospel. Question your diagnosis and treatment, and discuss everything with your consultant as well as your family. Never forget – it is your life and your body. As graphic as it is in places, The Dream That Saved My Life’ is a book every woman should read. 

Carolann Bruce

The dream that saved my life is available from Amazon

My worries, breast cancer and mindfulness

My worries, breast cancer and mindfulness

Laura is a mindfulness meditation practitioner, leading group and one-to one sessions in both the private and voluntary sector. For more information, visit www.lauraashurst.co.uk A worrier from childhood I have always been a worrier. That natural ability that we all have to worry about things 

Cancer: the birthday present no one wants

Cancer: the birthday present no one wants

Emma Herring is a freelance writer, editor and communications consultant. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2017. A routine mammogram leads to a shock diagnosis My cancer was the birthday present you never want to receive. Having reached the age of 50 and celebrated 

Guest blog: The Osbourne Trust

Guest blog: The Osbourne Trust

Who we are

I’m Emma and I founded and now run The Osborne Trust, the only national charity that focuses all of our support on the children of a parent with cancer. The Trust was launched in 2014 after my own cancer diagnosis aged 36 years with 2 children then aged seven and four. We started from our own experience of how we dealt with the situation, what worked and what we found lacking in terms of family support.

What we do

The Trust provides children aged 18 years and under whose parent/s have cancer access to recreational activities during a parent/s treatment by funding up to 3 activities such as a cinema trip, play centre visit or a meal out. Activities are supervised by an adult family member or friend. The aim is to offer the parent/s some rest and the children some time away from all that cancer entails.

Ozzy the Elephant is our mascot, our lovely stuffed elephant. Calling our elephant Ozzy was a natural fit from our name. We provide an Ozzy in pink or grey to girls and boys referred to us at the Trust. Our aim is for Ozzy to offer some comfort to the children during this time.

Over time we have added more and more support packages, such as our emotional support packages via journals, a book or colouring and now the Little C Club flashcards to support a child’s emotional wellbeing.

As we are now in a pandemic, we adapted to best fit the families we support by introducing our at-home activities. We send out arts and crafts, board games, books and the like to the children seeing Mum/Dad go through cancer having to shield within the home due to their gruelling treatment regime.

Our aims

Our aims are simple, we hope to increase their well-being, relieve the stress they face and support the children of a parent going through cancer.

How to get in touch

Via our referral process, parents who have cancer can apply for support by downloading a form off our website or request one to be posted to them. For more info head to www.theosbornetrust.com

Guest blog: Navigate – a new support for parents

Guest blog: Navigate – a new support for parents

As a Breast CNS Team in a large NHS Trust, we see breast cancer patients who we support from screening, diagnosis, treatment and beyond. Our role has changed over the years and non-more so than in the last twelve months since the coronavirus pandemic hit 

Guest blog: My daughter was 15 when I got cancer

Guest blog: My daughter was 15 when I got cancer

This guest blog is from Gloria whose daughter was fifteen when Gloria was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was 54 years old when I found a lump in my right breast. It was late September and in October 2018 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. 

Guest blog: telling my children (10-year-olds and 14-year-old) I had cancer

Guest blog: telling my children (10-year-olds and 14-year-old) I had cancer

This guest blog is from Mary Huckle, in which she talks about how she told her 10-year-old twin girls and 14-year-old son she’s been diagnosed with cancer. She shares her tips for dealing with children of this age group.

7 Things to Consider When Telling Your Child You Have Breast Cancer

No one can dispute that parenting is the toughest job ever. As mums and dads, we do our utmost best to grow our offspring. Like tending a fragile plant, we nurture and protect. We want nothing more but for our children to be happy, healthy, and safe. So what kind of a mother would want to intentionally hurt her child?

Immediately after being diagnosed with breast cancer, I had visions of my children and thoughts of dying. Then, it hit me again; the prospect of actually telling them my awful news. Why would I even contemplate breaking it to them? How could I tell my then impressionable 14-year-old son and my innocent 10-year-old daughters that I might soon be leaving them forever or that their mum was going to be very unwell at the least? Every time I thought about it, the lump in my throat would swell. The feelings and emotions overwhelmed me and to be honest, I felt confused. What would be the best thing to do? What would someone in my position do? There was so much to consider.

1. The Feelings of Guilt and Betrayal

Telling them would be like an act of betrayal. I was supposed to be the one they could trust, the person they could always rely on and the one to make them feel loved and looked after, yet here I was, feeling guilt ridden because telling them would surely crush them. My maternal instincts were saying I’d deny them their childhood happiness. I was convinced it would mess with their minds and cause them anxiety.

2. Your Fears Become Their Fears

I was challenged by my own fears and concerns so how could I possibly allay my children’s fears if they were to see how scared and vulnerable I was? Surely, if they saw me upset and worried, they would feel the same way. The thought of dying and leaving them was too painful to bear but I couldn’t let them see that by getting emotional in front of them. How could I remain composed relaying this message? At the end of the day, I just wasn’t brave enough; my tears would certainly betray me.

3. The Deception Can Be Exhausting

If you choose to hide your cancer diagnosis from your children, are you lying to them? Yes, I believe I did lie, by attempting to hide all the tell-tale signs and goings on. In the weeks ensuing a cancer diagnosis, there are lots of hospital appointments to attend, probable surgery to undergo and various treatments to be had and believe me, it’s tiring ‘not telling the truth’. The game will inevitably start to wear thin and it will get harder still as the plot thickens and the process unravels. Imagine, losing your hair through chemotherapy and your child catches sight of you bald, not wearing your wig? How would you explain that one? By the time I had my chemo, all the children knew but in the very early days, I would keep disappearing into my bedroom and cry privately so they didn’t see or hear me. I think I might have cried less had the children known the real situation.

4. Your Child’s Age Will Determine What, How and When You Tell Them

When I was diagnosed in August 2007, Robert, our eldest had just turned 14 and our twin daughters were 10. After much deliberation, myself and my husband decided we should at least tell Robert. We deemed him old enough to understand, and I know this might sound silly, but because he was a boy, we thought he’d be less affected than his younger sisters. Weirdly enough, we felt stronger and more composed in our approach when breaking the news to him. However, that didn’t stop us having a cry. We talked, we held each other and then we gave him reassurance. Afterwards, as expected, he didn’t really talk about it very much or ask too many questions but he would give me lots of hugs and I knew that was his way of awkwardly caring. I was happy with that, but I still made sure that going forward I kept him informed and he seemed OK with that too.

When, on the other hand, we considered telling the girls, it was an entirely different matter. The twins have always been extremely attached to me and their protective ways were too strong to ignore. I would go into complete meltdown just at the thought because I knew it would really affect them and that we’d probably all end up in a slobbering, tearful mess before I’d even got the word ‘cancer’ out. I kept thinking about their inquisitive nature and how they’d probably have endless probing questions. I just knew in my heart that this news would play on their minds, so I went with my gut instinct and resolved not to tell them straight away.

5. Is Honesty the Best Policy?

When I ask the twins now how they felt then, they tell me that one of the worst things was the missing me, the wondering why I was away from home so much and not understanding why I had so many random hospital appointments. They were worried but obviously incredibly determined to find out what was going on. It would be 10 years later, that they would confess to looking at my emails and discovering my secret. I blame their mischievous twin nature! Joking aside, knowing what I know now, I wish I’d been honest with them. I realise that in trying to protect them and myself, I did them an injustice because I still caused them anxiety. If I’d been completely upfront right from the beginning, all the unanswered questions my children had would have been easier to answer. When they eventually confronted me, above all, I was sorry for causing them worry and I felt compelled to apologise.

6. It’s Not a Cop Out if You’d Rather Have Someone Else Tell Your Child

It may seem like you’re shirking your responsibility but an alternative to not telling your children would be to ask someone else to break the news instead. At the time, it didn’t really occur to me that I could have asked someone to break the news on my behalf but I wish that I had considered that as an option.

7. Telling Your Child About a Recurrence

I had no family history of breast cancer and there were certainly no risk factors where my health was concerned. In fact, being a personal trainer made me particularly healthy so I could never understand the reason for my diagnosis. The only consolation might be that my fitness did keep me in good stead and I passed the 5-year mark unscathed. Seven years passed and I was living my life with gratitude. I was convinced that my breast cancer diagnosis was just a glitch.

My optimism was abruptly interrupted, however, when in July 2014, I was once more confronted with the dreaded words. A PET scan had revealed that the lump behind my collarbone was in fact cancerous and that there was another infected lymph node in my chest wall. The notion of going through more surgeries and treatments filled me with blinding panic and then the familiar morbid thoughts began taunting me. Worse still was the thought of having to tell my children that the cancer had come back.

It certainly wasn’t any easier this time. A secondary diagnosis is incurable, and trying to explain that to anyone can be tricky, let alone your own children. The rollercoaster of ups and downs was set in motion and the feelings of hurting my son and daughters were just as strong, even though they were older and more mature in their thinking. There was something quite different though. This time, I would tell them straight away. Once I’d got all the facts straight in my mind, I felt confident that I could talk to them without breaking down. Yes, the cancer had spread and sharing the news would be upsetting but the previous 7 years of having lived with breast cancer had obviously taught me more than I realised. It had taught me and still teaches me to be stronger and resolute. The more you’re forced to think about your mortality, the less traumatic and upsetting the scenario becomes.

At the end of the day, whether you tell your children or not, is a personal choice and there is no wrong or right answer but whatever you decide to do, here’s a quick check list:

  • Make sure you tell your breast care nurse or consultant that you have children so they can give you lots of information and guidance from the outset.
  • Children are naturally very curious as well as perceptive. Even at a very young age they can sense that something serious is happening and can pick up vibes of a life changing event affecting the entire family.
  • Remember that a partner, a family member, or a friend could support you with breaking the news of your cancer diagnosis. Have a discussion beforehand to ensure you are clear about the facts and that you agree on the details to be passed on to your children.
  • Keep lines of communication open and give your children age appropriate information. They will react and act differently depending on their age. The word ‘cancer’ can be terrifying for young imaginative minds but it’s always better to be honest and factual.
  • Expect lots of questions; give them the opportunity to ask them and your time to answer them. Some of these questions may be upsetting or uncomfortable, so be prepared.
  • It’s important to tell your children that they are loved and that the cancer has nothing to do with them; they might think it’s their fault or they’ve upset you and in some way caused it. The reassurance that you care deeply for them and that they will always be looked after will help to allay their fears.
  • Inform your child’s teachers so they are aware of the circumstances and will ensure that there’s support at school, should your child need it. If you feel, however, that your child needs specialist support, you can explore the counselling route. The effects of a parent’s cancer diagnosis can be traumatic and far reaching for a child, especially if they are susceptible to already feeling anxious.

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Guest blog: Motherhood through Cancer

Guest blog: Motherhood through Cancer

Motherhood is hard enough without a cancer diagnosis! In a time of pandemic, being confined to our homes, home schooling and wearing countless hats of not only parent, but teacher, entertainer, friend, sibling, chef and cleaner, having a ten-year-old pre tween daughter and going through 

Guest blog: Mum Guilt

Guest blog: Mum Guilt

People talk about mum guilt a lot. It would seem that you have children and then the sense of responsibility leads to an enormous amount of guilt about everything. Am I doing enough with them? Am I over stimulating them? Are they eating enough fruit 

Clare’s personal story: I didn’t tell my son I had cancer

Clare’s personal story: I didn’t tell my son I had cancer

You’ve been diagnosed with cancer. The big question is… do you tell your kids?

As parents we naturally want to protect our children from anything that might hurt, upset or worry them. It’s part of a parent’s make-up. If we could wrap our children in bubble wrap and implant a tracking chip in them, we would. But the reality of life is that we can’t do that and children will experience hurt, upset and anxiety in their childhoods, despite our best efforts.

So, what do you do when you’ve been diagnosed with cancer? For Clare, a single mother of Jack aged nine, she chose not to tell her son that she’d been diagnosed with cancer or that she was having surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and Herceptin.

Clare’s diagnosis

Clare was diagnosed with breast cancer last year mid-lockdown. She’d had an itch for a while and got it checked out by the GP who told her it was nothing to worry about. Having private medical insurance through her full-time job, she chose to have an appointment with a breast surgeon with a view to possibly having a small procedure to cure the situation. So, after a delay of a couple of months (because she is a busy single working mum) she went to see the surgeon in May.

The surgeon agreed with the GP that there was nothing to worry about but just as she was leaving and giving her authorisation code for the consultation, the Surgeon noticed that she was eligible for a mammogram. It made sense for her to have the mammogram then and there. So, she did. And, in the other breast to the itch, they found something suspicious. Following an on-the-spot biopsy, she was told that it was 99% likely to be breast cancer. A lot can happen in an hour. Alone, driving home, and her only thoughts were this is going to ruin Jack’s childhood.  

Her son was due back home the following day after staying with his Dad and all she could think about was how this was going to impact him and how she could keep it from him. 

A bit of background…

You see, Clare and her son have had their fair share of turmoil, Jack started out living in Spain, with Clare, her then husband and his two daughters (who they saw a lot and lived close enough for Jack to have a very good relationship with). But five years ago, Clare divorced her husband and she and Jack moved back to the UK with nothing. It’s taken a while, but over the past five years they’ve made a comfortable home, found a good school and football club for Jack, made friends and live close to Clare’s supportive siblings and friends.

Jack’s Dad moved back to the area a few years after and Clare now shares custody with him on a 70:30 basis. But it’s been tough and the last thing that Clare wanted was to put her son through more turmoil. There are not many things worse for a child than a parent going through cancer. The guilt kicked in and Clare couldn’t bring herself to tell Jack that she’d just been diagnosed with cancer – especially when it was a sunny VE bank holiday in the middle of a lockdown and they’d been looking forward to celebrating (at a social distance) with neighbours.

So she didn’t tell him. It wasn’t the right time and she didn’t want to upset him.

The day of the operation

Then the day of her operation came along. By this time, it had been agreed that Jack’s Dad would share Jack on a 50:50 basis while Clare was going through treatment and he’d agreed not to tell Jack about the cancer. She went in for her operation which was a wide local excision and breast reduction.

She told Jack that she was just going to have a breast reduction and that he didn’t need to worry. In fact, he was more embarrassed than anything else so that worked, no more questions asked. By the time Jack was home from his Dad’s, Clare was at home recovering well. Jack had no idea that his Mum had just had the cancer cut out of her breast.

Going through treatment

She was originally told that following surgery she’d have radiotherapy. So the plan was to have the radiotherapy while Jack was at school. There would be no need to tell Jack about the radiotherapy as he wouldn’t even know that she was going to the hospital every day. However, once the pathology results came back after surgery it transpired that her breast cancer was triple positive and she’d in fact need chemotherapy. Clare cried. She really didn’t want to put Jack through cancer with her – she realised that she really didn’t want him to know that she had cancer. She managed up to this point in not having to tell him and now that she was faced with having to tell him (who can hide chemo after all?) she knew that it was her priority not to tell him. She wanted him to be happy and carefree and not have to worry about his mum – especially when the whole world was going through a global pandemic.

But Clare’s determination to protect her son from cancer meant that she had to find a way. She used the cold cap which meant that she kept most of her hairline so although it looked different and she lost all of her length, what nine-year-old football-mad boy is going to notice that. And as for her eyebrows and eyelashes – she made sure she applied eyeliner and did her brows before Jack woke up every day.

She also arranged with Jack’s Dad that Jack would stay with him from the day of chemo and for the first week after chemo. This allowed Clare the week following chemo – you know, the really tough week – to recover on her own at home. She was hit badly by the chemo and had to call an ambulance a couple of times. It’s hard for anyone who lives on their own to go through chemotherapy but through a lockdown whilst having to shield was very tough. 

Jack came home for week 2 post-chemo. This week was easier than week one, but Clare still didn’t feel great. However, Clare says that having the determination to shield Jack from her cancer made her get up and about with Jack, and she’s sure that it helped her to recover.

So by week 3 post-chemo she was well enough to be the active single mum she’s used to being. And Jack didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. She told Jack that she had some bad cells that needed this horrible medicine to get rid of them, and her hair would be a little crazy for a while – and they laughed as he said her hair has always been crazy in the mornings anyhow. So he knew there would be times where she was tired and wasn’t feeling well. And then chemo was over and radiotherapy began – and lockdown number 3 happened but she managed to make it work with him still not knowing.

Being at a private hospital, meant she was able to choose the early slot each day and was in and out within 20 minutes – some days she took Jack and he stayed in the car playing Fifa with the receptionist watching over him. Clare took a picture of the radio machine so he knew something, although no words were used, his only concerns was if it hurt and laughing that he couldn’t possibly stay still for that long. Also, all Herceptin was arranged to be administered at home while Jack was at school – so now he’s being homeschooled, they are ‘vitamin injections’. It’s important to know that at all points he was able to ask any questions or speak to either Clare or his Dad, but he didn’t. He really missed all the worse of it!

Why did Clare decide not to tell her son?

So why did Clare decide not to tell Jack that she had cancer? Well to be honest it wasn’t a deliberate decision to start with. It was more a case of not finding the right time coupled with the guilt of putting him through the turmoil that it was bound to bring. And then, after a while, having not told him to start with, coupled with Clare’s own memories of her own difficult childhood, it didn’t seem right to tell him. It was at this point that it became a deliberate choice not to tell him, and to actively keep it from him.

She wanted to protect him. She had the opportunity to wrap him in that bubble wrap (albeit just for a little while). He was nine, he’d been through a tough time with the divorce and move back from Spain a few years earlier and was finally settled; the world was living in a global pandemic with lockdowns on then off then on again. The guilt that Clare felt, is what made her keep it from him.  Clare, herself didn’t have a great childhood, so this was the last thing she wanted for him. 

So now that treatment is over (other than 6 more Herceptin injections) Clare is starting to feel physically better and she’s back at work. Does she regret not telling Jack? No, she’s certain it was the right thing for her to do in her circumstances. Clare knows that everyone is different and deals with these sorts of things differently. She knows that a big part of not telling Jack was that the circumstances allowed her to not tell him. If Jack lived with her 100% of the time then she thinks she probably would have had to tell him. But her view is that the circumstances meant that she didn’t have to tell him.

Will she ever tell him?

Will she ever tell Jack that she had cancer the year of COVID? Yes, she will. In fact, she is planning on using this blog and sharing her story so he can read it when he’s older.

Guest blog: Advice for parenting children while going through cancer

Guest blog: Advice for parenting children while going through cancer

This guest blog is from Sara Olsher, founder of Mighty & Bright, a company in the US focusing on support systems for children who are faced with traumatic situations such parents going through cancer or a divorce. Here, Sara talks about why she started Mighty&Bright 

Guest blog: telling my two year old I had cancer

Guest blog: telling my two year old I had cancer

In this guest blog Laura talks about how she told her two year old son that she had cancer. “Mummy’s got Cancer” – The hardest words I’ve ever had to say. How do you tell a two year old their mummy is sick? I think