Last year, on 17 July, I was a 33-year-old woman living and working in Leicester. I’d moved here from Birmingham 15 years earlier, to study at Leicester University, and then never left. I love it here, it’s a great city to live in – vibrant and interesting. I loved my job as a project manager for a national charity that campaigns for the personal, social and economic benefits of lifelong learning. It’s a challenging job, and I worked hard. Outside of work I loved spending time with my friends – eating, drinking, putting the world to rights. I’d joined a book club, started art classes and become a keen runner. I was working towards being able to run a half marathon.
Then on 18 July, my world was turned upside down. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I have a family history of breast and ovarian cancer, and I had just been through a process of genetic testing, so this didn’t come as a surprise as such. But it was still a shock. The ultrasound scan that I was having to give me peace of mind instead confirmed that I had two cancerous tumours. They couldn’t be felt, but they were there.
I started chemotherapy in August. I had six sessions, over 18 weeks. It was gruelling, depressing, frightening and ugly. In January I had major surgery – a mastectomy, lymph node clearance, and immediate reconstruction. In March and April, I underwent three weeks of radiotherapy which was exhausting. All in all, treatment took eight months.
While I was having that treatment, I spent most of my time on my sofa, or in bed. I was physically ill and worn out, but my brain desperately needed to keep busy. I hated being cooped up indoors, feeling cut off from the rest of the world. The Guardian quickly became my favourite window to the world outside.
I’ve always liked the Guardian – when I graduated I used to buy a copy most mornings and read it on the bus to work. These days I read online. I am signed up to the Guardian Women in Leadership emails and regularly share these with colleagues. And brilliant articles pop up on my Twitter feed every day. I particularly look out for articles by incredible women like Suzanne Moore, Laura Bates, and Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett. I don’t need to be well enough to go out to buy a newspaper, or even switch on my laptop, as I mostly read it on my phone, and I can do that from bed. It has kept me informed, made me think, and made me laugh. In fact, I think “Feminists never have sex and hate men opening doors for them, even into other dimensions” by Bridget Christie published on 22 June might be my all time favourite Guardian piece, ever.
I’m back at work now, but still checking Twitter daily and clicking on links to Guardian articles that grab my attention. When I’m back in hospital for more surgery in September, I’ll be reading them on my phone from my hospital bed.
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