I lost my sister to breast cancer 4 years ago. She was 35. Her fight lasted 8 long years and those years were hard for us all but at least during those 8 long and painful years I still had my sister.
Every three weeks we would make the 150 mile round trip to Charring Cross Hospital for her treatment. I would drive us and to beat traffic for the 8:30 appointment we would be on the road at 5:30 in the morning. Those Mondays were incredibly demanding on the healthy people that made it so I cannot think what they were like for my sister. Her youngest son would often accompany us. He was aged between 7 and 11 and visiting the chemotherapy ward was a part of his growing up.
Between treatment and traffic we would sometimes not make it home until past midnight. These trips every three weeks were incredibly hard but they formed part of the fight my sister had with her illness. It was literally a battle she undertook to get herself to London (we live in North Essex) and this fight kept her going. In all the time she was ill she only missed one appointment and that was because she was in a hospice dying. It sounds strange but I miss those trips to the Chemotherapy ward as despite the terrible circumstances and the gruelling schedule of the day we actually had fun. The message my nephew has taken away from it is that life is making the here and now worth talking about later.
We saw her fight and we saw her struggle as we were with her every step of the way. She died on the 9th of May 2010 and a little over a month later my mother also discovered she had breast cancer. By this time she was looking after my sisters two boys. After treatment she is doing well. It is hard to call her a survivor as she just never had the time for cancer. It just got in the way of living.
clacton on sea, United Kingdom