My whole life I have talked too much and been too open. If there's something I feel I need to say I just can't stop myself from saying it no matter how hard I do, at times, try to keep my trap shut. If I'm thinking something and it's important to me (even just in that moment) I'll say it. As a result I have spent a lot of my time worrying about having said too much, having said something I shouldn't or having said something to the wrong person. On a very regular basis I consider taking this blog offline, leaving Twitter and leaving Facebook. All because I think I have overshared or been too vocal and for one reason or another just want to quietly hide away from the world. If I keep quiet I won't annoy anyone. If I keep quiet I won't embarrass myself. If I keep quiet I won't upset anyone. If I keep quiet I won't get in to trouble. But it never lasts. As soon as there's something else I want to say, it's out there. I just can't help it.
A few days ago I was involved in an online discussion about the NHS and cancer care - and what the policies of the different parties were. A number of people had some really interesting insights to share - especially those who work within health and social care. A number of people were asking questions about the different political parties - where do they stand on this or that, what would the impact of their policies really be. I was speaking up in support of Labour pledges including repealing the Health and Social Care Act and capping the amount of profit private sector companies could make on NHS contracts. I shared a video which explained the impact of the steady privatisation of the NHS. Someone else (a Tory voter) responded with "Yawn." I shut up. I felt embarrassed and stupid. Should I have not said so much? I actually lost sleep over it. (Yes, I know, I need to become a lot more thick-skinned.)
Then last night I turned the TV on at 10pm to start watching the coverage of the election results. The first thing I saw were the shocking exit poll figures. I couldn't believe it. Today, the votes have been counted and the exit poll was pretty much spot on. We now have a Conservative majority government. And I realised... I've spent so much time worrying about talking too much when actually I have not been speaking up nearly enough.
The coalition government has been vindictive and cruel to the poorest and most vulnerable people in our society, and it is quickly dismantling vital public services. What has happened as a result over the last 5 years is disgraceful. I will give two examples...
Worsening, deepening poverty and over 1 million people needing emergency food and support from food banks
Welfare cuts since 2012 have increased poverty, pushing hundreds of thousands of people, including 300,000 children below the poverty line. New Policy Institute estimates that 29% of children are now living in poverty after housing costs. (Further info here). In 2011-12, 128,697 people needed emergency food and support from a food bank. In 2014-15, as a result of the coalition's austerity measures and welfare cuts this number increased to 1,084, 604. (Further info here)
The NHS is being sold off piece by piece to private companies in order to make a very small number of rich and powerful people even more rich and powerful
As a result of the coalition's Health and Social Care Act our NHS is rapidly becoming privatised. For example, private firms have been winning 40% of contracts that Clinical Commissioning Groups have put out to tender, worth a total of £2.3bn. That's £2.3bn of our National Insurance contributions being given to the private sector, instead of being invested into our National Health Service bodies. This is not about improving care or efficiency. It's about a minority of rich and powerful people becoming even more rich and powerful at the expense of the rest of us. 24 Conservative MPs and peers who backed health reforms have links to 15 private healthcare companies that won £1.5bn of NHS contracts in the two years following the Health and Social Care Act. (Further info here) These private companies exist to make profit for their owners. They do this by making cuts - cheaper hospital food, less staff, zero hours contracts for staff etc.
Those are just two examples and they are not even the tip of the iceberg.
And now voters have elected a Conservative government, which is apparently planning a further £12bn cuts to welfare* (Further info here). To give this some context, an estimated £119bn is lost in tax evasion each year and this figure is steadily rising (Further info here) - but instead of strengthening anti-avoidance tax laws, the government is more concerned with reducing support for people who are sick, disabled, homeless, full-time carers and so on. So this election result, which means another 5 years of Conservative government, is devastating news for the majority of people living in this country - although it seems that most of those people don't actually realise that.
(*immediately after posting this blog I saw this article - just hours after the election DWP releases document on cuts to disabled work access scheme - and so it begins.)
I fundamentally disagree with Conservative austerity - it is based on ideology not economics. So far I've been ok myself. I haven't needed to go to a food bank in order to eat. I haven't had to make a choice between eating or switching the heating on in the winter. I haven't had to depend on a loan shark company in order to pay a bill. But that's irrelevant. I know full well what is happening around me. I know people are suffering and being punished by a cruel government simply because they are the ones who do not have power, and do not have a voice. And this is set to continue for 5 more years.
I will not keep quiet. I want to speak up more, and do more.
I never, ever thought I would become a member of a political party. I never liked the idea of pledging any kind of allegiance to any political party. I've always voted on an election by election basis - whose policies do I agree with right now? I will vote for them. But I have come to two conclusions during this election campaign.
1. The left of centre vote is split between so many parties that no one of them could possibly win a general election. There is a lot that the Green Party stands for that I respect. I love the idea of the Women's Equality Party that Sandy Toksvig is setting up. But in reality neither of these parties are going to win the next election. We know that already.
2. I do largely agree with Labour policies and I have spent a fair bit of time recently talking to Labour MPs and Parliamentary Candidates. I've been impressed and moved by their passion for a fair, equal and caring society.
So, I decided to become a member of the Labour Party as of today. I want to speak up, be involved, and do whatever I can to help Labour win the next general election in 2020. And I'm not surprised at all that a number of my friends have made the same decision today as me. Because while we can feel gutted about this election result, we can all also play a part in making it different next time.
If you too want to join Labour you can do so quickly and easily here.
Showing posts with label Comment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Comment. Show all posts
Friday, 8 May 2015
Monday, 4 May 2015
M'aide! May Day!
Today I had the great honour of speaking at a rally which marked the end of a 3-day march for the NHS from Burton to Stoke. As if being invited to talk at this wasn't exciting enough, I actually spoke after the wonderful 91 year old war veteran Harry Smith. It was a privilege, and I am lucky to have had the opportunity to meet him. If you have not already seen his speech at Labour Conference, please take the time to watch it now. You'll be blown away and you'll probably shed a tear or two.
The march and the rally are part of a campaign opposing the planned privatisation of cancer care and end of life care in Staffordshire. You can find out more information about this here.
And here is what I said, and some photos from the day!
*******
I'm not a politician or a political campaigner. I'm not a celebrity. And I'm not normally a public speaker! I'm a 34 year old woman who lives and works in Leicester. And on the 18th of July last year, at age 33, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I'd like start by reading you a short excerpt of a blog post I wrote about the day I was diagnosed. I'd gone to hospital for an ultrasound scan because I'd noticed a small change in my breast. I'd been examined by my GP and 2 breast care nurses, and no one could feel a lump, but because of my family history of breast and ovarian cancer, I was sent for the ultrasound scan anyway, to be extra cautious and to give me peace of mind.
This is what I wrote about the moment I found out I had cancer:
"I was called back in to the ultrasound room and told that the scans had shown "some changes" and that they wanted to take biopsies there and then. I laid back down so they could scan me again to do the biopsies. What changes? There was a 22mm mass under my nipple, a 6mm mass a bit lower down, and some of my lymph nodes were enlarged. I was told that they would use a fine needle to take cells from the lymph nodes and the small mass and that it would be sharp like an injection. I didn't feel it. I was then given a local anaesthetic so they could take a core biopsy of the larger mass. I was told the local anaesthetic injection would sting for a moment. I didn't feel it. I just lay there, looking at the expression on their faces. One deadly serious, the other sympathetic. I asked if there was anything it could be other than cancer. "No..... I'm sorry."
My cancer treatment took 277 days and finished 2 weeks ago.
During that time I had:
3 ultrasound scans, 2 CT scans, 1 MRI, 1 mammogram.
3 biopsies, 2 Fine Needle Aspirations, 9 blood tests, 1 ECG.
8 hours in surgery
15 rounds of radiotherapy.
I've had 1 nipple, 10 lymph nodes and 2 cancerous tumours removed.
It is thanks to my GP, my surgeon, my oncologists, and their registrars. It's thanks to the breast care nurses, the chemo nurses, the radiotherapy nurses, the ward nurses. It is thanks to the phlebotomists, the radiographers, the sonographers, the technicians, the pharmacists, the cleaning staff, the catering staff. It is thanks to all of the administrators, the receptionists, the people behind scenes within the NHS.
Not only did all of these NHS staff keep me alive, but they treated me with kindness and compassion, dignity and respect. I was able to trust them entirely. I was literally trusting them with my life. And I cannot speak highly enough of the care I have received.
But there is something else, very important, that I want to explain.
I'd like to just go back to the moment that I was diagnosed. My world stopped. Everything became a blur. I was in shock, and unable to think. There is very little that I remember about those early days. But one thing I do remember is that I was immediately given two key pieces of information.
The first was the name and phone number of my Breast Care Nurse - the person who would be my key contact throughout all of my treatment. One, named person, who I could go to about anything, at any time. The second was a card with the time of my appointment the following week to meet with my surgeon. My Breast Care Nurse and Surgeon are part of a multidisciplinary team that were allocated to me from day one. This team have been responsible for deciding and planning the best treatment for me. They've kept myself (and each other) informed at all times, answering my questions, explaining things I don't understand - but all the time taking the lead in ensuring I have swift and effective treatment.
From the very moment I was diagnosed, I felt like I had been picked up and was being carried by the strong, supportive and reliable arms of the NHS. That sounds very cheesy but it's absolutely true.
At no point have I had to worry about whether or not I can afford treatment.
At no point have I had to make decisions about what treatment to have based on cost.
At no point have I have to go out and find medical professionals myself that will give me the treatment I need, when I need it.
At no point have I had to fill out claim forms, sit in queues on telephone lines, or risk delays to my treatment because I am too shocked or too ill to deal with insurance companies.
At no point have I had to question the motivations of the organisation that is responsible for treating my cancer, or the basis on which decisions about what treatment I am being offered have been made.
At no point during my cancer treatment have I been made to feel like a "customer".
When I found out about Conservative plans to sell off £1.2 billion of NHS cancer and end of life care in Staffordshire I was horrified. If it goes ahead, this will be the largest private contract in NHS history. I don't live in Staffordshire, but I know that if it happens in Staffordshire, I should expect the same in Leicester soon.
It terrifies me that the care of people who have cancer is being sold to companies whose ultimate aim is to make a profit for their owners.
It saddens me that patients will become "customers" - with associated costs and profits attached to them instead of first and foremost being recognised and treated as individuals, as fellow human beings.
It disgusts me that instead of being invested into a public service, our National Insurance contributions are being given to the private sector on such a large scale, and without any real public consultation. On Saturday even Nick Clegg, Deputy Prime Minister, claimed that he knew nothing about the sale of NHS cancer care in Staffordshire. I find that difficult to believe, but if he is telling the truth that is incredibly worrying.
I would like to end here by encouraging everyone to not only have the NHS in mind when you vote in the election on Thursday, but also over the next 4 days to be talking to as many people as you can about the NHS and the piece by piece privatisation of it under the Coalition government over the last few years. I really think this election could be our last chance to save the NHS. I hope we can do it.
And thank you for taking the time to listen to me.
The wonderful Harry Smith, telling the crowd what life is really like without a National Health Service.
Me with the other event speakers. My friends are making fun of me for being a poser so I just want to say, for the record, we were all instructed to stand in the exact way I was stood. If I knew that in reality we could all freestyle with our poses, I'd have bear hugged Harry. Or Tristram. ;-)
And I just want to end with this....
If there is any part of you that wonders if the privatisation of the NHS might improve it... consider this. The first privately run NHS hospital, Hitchingbrooke in Cambridgeshire, has been condemned as "inadequate."
The march and the rally are part of a campaign opposing the planned privatisation of cancer care and end of life care in Staffordshire. You can find out more information about this here.
And here is what I said, and some photos from the day!
*******
I'm not a politician or a political campaigner. I'm not a celebrity. And I'm not normally a public speaker! I'm a 34 year old woman who lives and works in Leicester. And on the 18th of July last year, at age 33, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
I'd like start by reading you a short excerpt of a blog post I wrote about the day I was diagnosed. I'd gone to hospital for an ultrasound scan because I'd noticed a small change in my breast. I'd been examined by my GP and 2 breast care nurses, and no one could feel a lump, but because of my family history of breast and ovarian cancer, I was sent for the ultrasound scan anyway, to be extra cautious and to give me peace of mind.
This is what I wrote about the moment I found out I had cancer:
"I was called back in to the ultrasound room and told that the scans had shown "some changes" and that they wanted to take biopsies there and then. I laid back down so they could scan me again to do the biopsies. What changes? There was a 22mm mass under my nipple, a 6mm mass a bit lower down, and some of my lymph nodes were enlarged. I was told that they would use a fine needle to take cells from the lymph nodes and the small mass and that it would be sharp like an injection. I didn't feel it. I was then given a local anaesthetic so they could take a core biopsy of the larger mass. I was told the local anaesthetic injection would sting for a moment. I didn't feel it. I just lay there, looking at the expression on their faces. One deadly serious, the other sympathetic. I asked if there was anything it could be other than cancer. "No..... I'm sorry."
I will never forget that moment. I won't forget the expression on her face. I won't forget the sound of her voice. That's the moment my life as I know it ended. Nothing will ever, ever be the same again. I feel like I'm still in that moment, like time hasn't really moved forward since then. I'm stuck lying there, looking away from the woman, and across to the dark image on the ultrasound screen, hearing the words "No.... I'm sorry" echoing round my head.
I don't remember leaving the room, or what happened next. The following few days are a blur."
My cancer treatment took 277 days and finished 2 weeks ago.
During that time I had:
3 ultrasound scans, 2 CT scans, 1 MRI, 1 mammogram.
3 biopsies, 2 Fine Needle Aspirations, 9 blood tests, 1 ECG.
I had 9 appointments with my surgeon, 8 appointments with my oncologists, 2 appointments at Genetics.
6 rounds, which is 18 weeks, of chemotherapy.
8 hours in surgery
15 rounds of radiotherapy.
I've spent 4 nights in hospital.
There have been 13 cannulas, 30 injections, 1 catheter, 3 drains.
I've had a lot of drugs including 1 general anaesthetic, 2 local anaesthetics, 4 different chemotherapy drugs, 3 types of anti sickness drugs, 2 kinds of antibiotic, 18 days on steroids, and all the painkillers ranging from paracetamol to morphine.
I've had 1 nipple, 10 lymph nodes and 2 cancerous tumours removed.
I've got scars. My hair, eyelashes and eyebrows fell out. My veins collapsed. But today, I'm standing here talking to you, alive and with no evidence of disease. And that is all thanks to the NHS.
It is thanks to my GP, my surgeon, my oncologists, and their registrars. It's thanks to the breast care nurses, the chemo nurses, the radiotherapy nurses, the ward nurses. It is thanks to the phlebotomists, the radiographers, the sonographers, the technicians, the pharmacists, the cleaning staff, the catering staff. It is thanks to all of the administrators, the receptionists, the people behind scenes within the NHS.
Not only did all of these NHS staff keep me alive, but they treated me with kindness and compassion, dignity and respect. I was able to trust them entirely. I was literally trusting them with my life. And I cannot speak highly enough of the care I have received.
But there is something else, very important, that I want to explain.
I'd like to just go back to the moment that I was diagnosed. My world stopped. Everything became a blur. I was in shock, and unable to think. There is very little that I remember about those early days. But one thing I do remember is that I was immediately given two key pieces of information.
The first was the name and phone number of my Breast Care Nurse - the person who would be my key contact throughout all of my treatment. One, named person, who I could go to about anything, at any time. The second was a card with the time of my appointment the following week to meet with my surgeon. My Breast Care Nurse and Surgeon are part of a multidisciplinary team that were allocated to me from day one. This team have been responsible for deciding and planning the best treatment for me. They've kept myself (and each other) informed at all times, answering my questions, explaining things I don't understand - but all the time taking the lead in ensuring I have swift and effective treatment.
From the very moment I was diagnosed, I felt like I had been picked up and was being carried by the strong, supportive and reliable arms of the NHS. That sounds very cheesy but it's absolutely true.
At no point have I had to worry about whether or not I can afford treatment.
At no point have I had to make decisions about what treatment to have based on cost.
At no point have I have to go out and find medical professionals myself that will give me the treatment I need, when I need it.
At no point have I had to fill out claim forms, sit in queues on telephone lines, or risk delays to my treatment because I am too shocked or too ill to deal with insurance companies.
At no point have I had to question the motivations of the organisation that is responsible for treating my cancer, or the basis on which decisions about what treatment I am being offered have been made.
At no point during my cancer treatment have I been made to feel like a "customer".
When I found out about Conservative plans to sell off £1.2 billion of NHS cancer and end of life care in Staffordshire I was horrified. If it goes ahead, this will be the largest private contract in NHS history. I don't live in Staffordshire, but I know that if it happens in Staffordshire, I should expect the same in Leicester soon.
It terrifies me that the care of people who have cancer is being sold to companies whose ultimate aim is to make a profit for their owners.
It saddens me that patients will become "customers" - with associated costs and profits attached to them instead of first and foremost being recognised and treated as individuals, as fellow human beings.
It disgusts me that instead of being invested into a public service, our National Insurance contributions are being given to the private sector on such a large scale, and without any real public consultation. On Saturday even Nick Clegg, Deputy Prime Minister, claimed that he knew nothing about the sale of NHS cancer care in Staffordshire. I find that difficult to believe, but if he is telling the truth that is incredibly worrying.
I would like to end here by encouraging everyone to not only have the NHS in mind when you vote in the election on Thursday, but also over the next 4 days to be talking to as many people as you can about the NHS and the piece by piece privatisation of it under the Coalition government over the last few years. I really think this election could be our last chance to save the NHS. I hope we can do it.
And thank you for taking the time to listen to me.
The marchers start arriving!
Me! Telling everyone how wonderful the NHS has been in the treatment of my cancer. Yes, in the background, that is Tristram Hunt listening carefully and applauding!
Got my photo with the 38 degrees NHS ambulance!
And I just want to end with this....
If there is any part of you that wonders if the privatisation of the NHS might improve it... consider this. The first privately run NHS hospital, Hitchingbrooke in Cambridgeshire, has been condemned as "inadequate."
Tuesday, 21 April 2015
Thank you NHS. You've saved my life.
On July 18th last year, at age 33, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
That was 277 days ago.
I've had 3 ultrasound scans, 2 CT scans, 1 MRI scan and 1 mammogram. 3 biopsies, 2 Fine Needle Aspirations. 9 blood tests, 1 ECG.
9 appointments with my surgeon, 8 appointments with my oncologists, 2 appointments at Genetics.
6 rounds of chemo, 8 hours in surgery, 15 rounds of radiotherapy.
4 nights in hospital.
There have been 13 cannulas, 30 injections (which I did myself), 1 catheter, 3 drains and 17 hours spent with a -4 degrees cold cap on my head.
I've had a lot of drugs including 1 general anaesthetic, 2 local anaesthetics, 4 different chemotherapy drugs, 3 types of anti sickness drugs, 2 kinds of antibiotic, 18 days on steroids, and all the painkillers ranging from paracetamol to morphine.
I've got a skin graft and 2 other impressive scars. I've had a seroma drained, and an expander implant filled twice.
I've had thrombophlebitis and oral thrush (3 times). My hair fell out. My eyelashes fell out. My eyebrows fell out. My nails became thin, yellow and flaky, and I lost two of my toenails twice. The veins in my arms collapsed.
I've had 1 nipple, 10 lymph nodes and 2 tumours removed.
In the end, I only fainted 5 times :-)
Last Wednesday I had an appointment with one of my oncologists. He checked how my skin was; fine. He checked how I was; fine. He asked if I had any questions; I didn't. He wrote me a prescription for Tamoxifen (a drug which I'll take for 10 years), told me to eat healthily, get moderate exercise and most importantly to be happy. And then he wished me well and sent me on my way.
So I write this just as I am about to leave my house to go to my final radiotherapy session. Today marks the end, finally, of my cancer treatment.
I am alive, with no evidence of disease. And it is all thanks to the NHS.
I don't have better words about the NHS than Harry Smith, who is 91 years old, and knows what life is like without an NHS. Please, take the time to watch this video.
I would like to join with Harry in telling the Conservatives to keep their mitts off our NHS. And I will say it once again, this election I will be voting Labour, and I will be doing it for the NHS. Please, please use your vote, and please also think carefully about the NHS when you do.
That was 277 days ago.
I've had 3 ultrasound scans, 2 CT scans, 1 MRI scan and 1 mammogram. 3 biopsies, 2 Fine Needle Aspirations. 9 blood tests, 1 ECG.
9 appointments with my surgeon, 8 appointments with my oncologists, 2 appointments at Genetics.
6 rounds of chemo, 8 hours in surgery, 15 rounds of radiotherapy.
4 nights in hospital.
There have been 13 cannulas, 30 injections (which I did myself), 1 catheter, 3 drains and 17 hours spent with a -4 degrees cold cap on my head.
I've had a lot of drugs including 1 general anaesthetic, 2 local anaesthetics, 4 different chemotherapy drugs, 3 types of anti sickness drugs, 2 kinds of antibiotic, 18 days on steroids, and all the painkillers ranging from paracetamol to morphine.
I've got a skin graft and 2 other impressive scars. I've had a seroma drained, and an expander implant filled twice.
I've had thrombophlebitis and oral thrush (3 times). My hair fell out. My eyelashes fell out. My eyebrows fell out. My nails became thin, yellow and flaky, and I lost two of my toenails twice. The veins in my arms collapsed.
I've had 1 nipple, 10 lymph nodes and 2 tumours removed.
In the end, I only fainted 5 times :-)
Last Wednesday I had an appointment with one of my oncologists. He checked how my skin was; fine. He checked how I was; fine. He asked if I had any questions; I didn't. He wrote me a prescription for Tamoxifen (a drug which I'll take for 10 years), told me to eat healthily, get moderate exercise and most importantly to be happy. And then he wished me well and sent me on my way.
So I write this just as I am about to leave my house to go to my final radiotherapy session. Today marks the end, finally, of my cancer treatment.
I am alive, with no evidence of disease. And it is all thanks to the NHS.
I don't have better words about the NHS than Harry Smith, who is 91 years old, and knows what life is like without an NHS. Please, take the time to watch this video.
I would like to join with Harry in telling the Conservatives to keep their mitts off our NHS. And I will say it once again, this election I will be voting Labour, and I will be doing it for the NHS. Please, please use your vote, and please also think carefully about the NHS when you do.
Off I go.... see you on the other side! And a big high five from me!
XO
Thursday, 16 April 2015
Being a woman
If you are a woman, and you speak out about anything online, you will be on the receiving end of, at best, sexist remarks, or at worst, targeted harassment, abuse and threats.
I want to give two examples. They both stem from this....
A number of weeks ago I was contact by a company who were doing some filming for 38 degrees. They were looking for people who'd had good experiences of the NHS for a Save Our NHS campaign. I said yes! They came to my house, filmed me, and the video went online a week ago. I've mentioned previously that I was nervous about it as I've never done anything like it before, but actually the response has been FANTASTIC. The video has had over 350,000 views! Well over 10,000 people shared it online. And I've been busy online since, sharing the link, responding to messages, engaging in conversation and debate. Much of it is constructive and friendly, but some of it... not so much.
Example of being a woman with a voice online number 1
I don't think this needs any commentary. Just have a look at the comments I have been receiving from Frank on the 38 degrees Facebook page. This is in response to me not wanting the NHS privatised. Sexist much?
I want to give two examples. They both stem from this....
A number of weeks ago I was contact by a company who were doing some filming for 38 degrees. They were looking for people who'd had good experiences of the NHS for a Save Our NHS campaign. I said yes! They came to my house, filmed me, and the video went online a week ago. I've mentioned previously that I was nervous about it as I've never done anything like it before, but actually the response has been FANTASTIC. The video has had over 350,000 views! Well over 10,000 people shared it online. And I've been busy online since, sharing the link, responding to messages, engaging in conversation and debate. Much of it is constructive and friendly, but some of it... not so much.
Example of being a woman with a voice online number 1
I don't think this needs any commentary. Just have a look at the comments I have been receiving from Frank on the 38 degrees Facebook page. This is in response to me not wanting the NHS privatised. Sexist much?
Clearly Frank is a sexist idiot. I'll just leave him to it.
Example of being a woman with a voice online number 2
When the video was put online, one of my friends tweeted it to Kate Godfrey who is parliamentary candidate for Labour in Stafford - where £1.2bn privatisation of cancer and end of life care is planned to take place. Kate really liked the video! She has been sharing it lots, and a couple of days ago I spoke to her on the phone about the NHS, privatisation of cancer care, and about the impacts of breast cancer.
Last night I went and had a look on her Twitter page to see if she'd shared the video again and I saw that she was being persistently hassled by another Twitter user because she had blocked people who were trolling her - this included messages that were obscene and threatening. She was repeatedly having to defend her right to block accounts that were abusive towards her and was being told that by doing so she was into "victim politics." I then searched for tweets sent to Kate and immediately spotted a troll account that has clearly been set up purely to harass her.
This all makes me furious. I am sick of seeing women being harassed and threatened online simply for being women.
I've been on the receiving end of a lot of abuse for supporting the No More Page 3 campaign. Some of it is childish, some of it is threatening. But sadly, if you are a woman who is going to speak out about sexual objectification you quickly come to expect that. I guess I just wasn't expecting the same harassment to be in my face when discussing cancer care and the NHS. I should have expected it though.... because it really is true. If you are a woman, and you have a voice online or in the public arena, you'll be harassed, threatened and abused no matter what it is you're taking about, just for being a woman.
Friday, 10 April 2015
Save Our NHS
Hi!
A few weeks ago I was filmed for a Save Our NHS video for campaigning organisation 38 degrees. They put it online this afternoon! I've never been in a video before so I've been a bit nervous about it! But ... here is a link:
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10155433079945788&pnref=story
I'm quite blown away because it's already had a lot of views* (over 71,000!) and a lot of shares. (over 3,700!)
(*See the end of the post for an update on this....!)
Bonkers! However, this is not because I am a celebrity superstar - it's because people know we are in serious danger of losing the NHS for good, and that's a frightening prospect.
As a result of the Coalition Government's policies over the last 5 years, the NHS is being systematically dismantled. The latest is that cancer and end of life care in Staffordshire are being privatised. Think about it. The treatment and care of cancer patients and people at the end of life will be in the hands of companies who exist not as a public service, but who exist to make profits for their owners / shareholders. And consider this: between 2012-2014 private companies with financial links to Conservative politicians won NHS contracts worth £1.5bn. Our NHS is being sold to private companies in order to make some already rich and powerful people, even more rich and powerful.
This is what being treated for cancer (a life threatening illness where time is everything) on the NHS has meant for me:
What the Coalition Government has done to the NHS is so incredibly upsetting and terrifying. When it comes to the NHS, the outcome of this election means everything. Another 5 years of Conservatives in power and the NHS will be gone.
Labour have made the following promises if they are elected:
Update 12/4/2015
Oh my goodness.... In less than 48 hours the original posting of the video on 38Degrees Facebook page has had 239,000 views (and has been shared by over 9,000 people). And a second post of the video yesterday has had a further 20,600 views .
That's over a quarter of a million people?!?!?!?!
People really care about the NHS. I guess that's becoming very apparent this election and that's why the Tories have suddenly panicked and started pulling figures and campaign "promises" regarding the NHS out of thin air. Don't believe a word they say. (Obviously.)
A few weeks ago I was filmed for a Save Our NHS video for campaigning organisation 38 degrees. They put it online this afternoon! I've never been in a video before so I've been a bit nervous about it! But ... here is a link:
https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=10155433079945788&pnref=story
I'm quite blown away because it's already had a lot of views* (over 71,000!) and a lot of shares. (over 3,700!)
(*See the end of the post for an update on this....!)
Bonkers! However, this is not because I am a celebrity superstar - it's because people know we are in serious danger of losing the NHS for good, and that's a frightening prospect.
As a result of the Coalition Government's policies over the last 5 years, the NHS is being systematically dismantled. The latest is that cancer and end of life care in Staffordshire are being privatised. Think about it. The treatment and care of cancer patients and people at the end of life will be in the hands of companies who exist not as a public service, but who exist to make profits for their owners / shareholders. And consider this: between 2012-2014 private companies with financial links to Conservative politicians won NHS contracts worth £1.5bn. Our NHS is being sold to private companies in order to make some already rich and powerful people, even more rich and powerful.
This is what being treated for cancer (a life threatening illness where time is everything) on the NHS has meant for me:
- I have not had to pay for any of my treatment. This means I have not been put in the position of delaying treatment, of not being able to afford treatment, or of not being able to afford the best treatment. This would not be true if the NHS did not exist and we had a private healthcare system.
- I have been treated by people who work for an organisation whose entire purpose is to care for my health and give me the best care and treatment possible. This would not be true if the NHS did not exist and we had a private healthcare system.
- I have not had to search for appropriate doctors, nurses, oncologists, surgeons etc etc and make arrangements myself, hunting out which medical professionals do or don't do what, and where, and when. It has all been done for me (thankfully - because trust me, when you're diagnosed with cancer you are not thinking straight). I was allocated a Breast Care Nurse who is my key point of contact, and I have a multi-disciplinary team that were allocated to me based on my individual circumstances. They work together, they update each-other and my GP in writing and always keep me informed. They are responsible for entirely different elements of my treatment, but they all work for the same organisation and they all work together. This would not be so straightforward if the NHS did not exist and we had a private healthcare system.
What the Coalition Government has done to the NHS is so incredibly upsetting and terrifying. When it comes to the NHS, the outcome of this election means everything. Another 5 years of Conservatives in power and the NHS will be gone.
Labour have made the following promises if they are elected:
- They will repeal the Health and Social Care Act
- They will guarantee a national health service free at the point of use
- They will remove enforced competition - they will ensure the NHS is focused on collaboration, not competition between different private companies.
Update 12/4/2015
Oh my goodness.... In less than 48 hours the original posting of the video on 38Degrees Facebook page has had 239,000 views (and has been shared by over 9,000 people). And a second post of the video yesterday has had a further 20,600 views .
That's over a quarter of a million people?!?!?!?!
People really care about the NHS. I guess that's becoming very apparent this election and that's why the Tories have suddenly panicked and started pulling figures and campaign "promises" regarding the NHS out of thin air. Don't believe a word they say. (Obviously.)
Tuesday, 7 April 2015
Updated with a response from Philip Hensher: I'll look at my mobile phone as much as I want to, thanks very much!
I read this article a couple of days ago:
"Looking at your mobile? You’re cutting off a world of creativity – and flirtation " - (Philip Henscher)
An excerpt:
"It’s fair to say that, now that pretty well everyone owns a mobile phone, your engagement with the world can be judged by where your phone is while you’re eating dinner. The woman in the Mousehole restaurant had yielded to a heartfelt request, I would say, in placing it in her lap under the table. More usual will be those who place it on the table beside the plate; and now, there are those who eat with one hand, the other holding the iPhone 6, rapt, quite oblivious of the poor waiter trying to pour your water.
To me, it seems fairly staggeringly rude to behave like this when you’re in company, but nobody else seems to feel that way. The truth of the matter is that if present company were instantly removed, and replaced by the people who are currently receiving messages, the phones wouldn’t be put away. The messaging would probably continue, to another set of people. It isn’t about showing that you’d prefer to be talking to people who aren’t in the room. It’s about your preferred distance from the human race. Those who text at the dinner table would generally like their relations with humanity to be conducted at electronic speed, remotely."
Oh shut up! I'm sick of people telling other people how much they should or shouldn't look at their mobile phone, or what it means about them as a person, or their relationships with other people, or their engagement with the wider world if they look at their phone "too much" or at the "wrong" time. The woman in the Mousehole restaurant that Philip refers to was a complete stranger. He has no idea why she was on her phone. So why does he think he has the right to judge her behaviour as rude?
These are just some of the things I use my own mobile phone for:
If I am out in a restaurant with you and I'm looking at my phone I might be:
Responding to alerts on Facebook. I'm a member of an online forum called the Younger Breast Cancer Network UK. There are over 1,000 members and it is a very active group. It was the information, advice and support of that group that got me through diagnosis, chemo, surgery and now radiotherapy. I've posted countless questions myself, and wonderful women across the UK who have been looking at their mobile phones wherever they happen to be have responded to me. As I've ticked different treatments off my list, I've learned and experienced enough that I can now answer other people's questions. I see it as a kind of Pay it Forward. Women who were diagnosed before me helped me, and now I want to do the same for women who have been diagnosed after me.
Sometimes I get an alert on my phone because someone has tagged me in a post - either to ask me a question personally, or draw my attention to a question or concern someone else has that they know I can help with. If I am out, and an alert pops up on my phone because someone is having a stress because they've found out they are going to have a skin sparing mastectomy with immediate LD flap and expander implant reconstruction plus full node clearance, is it rude for me to take a moment out to respond and send a link right away to the massive blog post I wrote all about my exact same (and not particularly common) surgery? If I am out and an alert pops up on my phone because someone is worried that their chemo vein has come up red and inflamed, is it rude for me to take a moment out and respond with a photo of my own, explaining it looks like a thing called superficial thrombophlebitis and is an inflammation and nothing to panic about? In my opinion - no. There are times that taking a moment out to respond to something like this can be a huge help, or save a person a lot of worry. I've been there myself. Going through cancer treatment can be terrifying, and the support of that group is invaluable. Right now, I am a part of it - whether I am sat in the hospital, or lying on my sofa, or out for a meal with you. I'm not thinking about it all the time - and as I move on with my life, I am lucky to be able to think about it less and less. But if an alert pops up because someone out there has a question I can answer, then I'm going to answer it!
Responding to emails. I mostly ignore emails when I'm out but sometimes there's a reason why I will check and reply. Here are two examples:
At Christmas, myself and some of my other YBCN friends who were sans-eyebrows as a result of chemo started creating our own festive "Christmas Chemobrows". Lots of the YBCN group joined in and Jojo created a community Buzzfeed article with lots of photos. It was a bit of fun - especially for women who were cooped up at home, ill from chemo, missing out on most of the festivities. The community article immediately got picked up by Buzzfeed, then Good Housekeeping, then the Telegraph, ITV news, Metro, Daily Mail, Good Morning America, ABC News America and so on and so on! I was getting emails from journalists, asking interview questions. This was while I was staying with my friend's family for Christmas. I didn't want to be rude, but I had to reply to the emails - it was wonderful publicity for our (volunteer-run) support group and the Christmas theme meant it was a very time-limited window of opportunity. (My friend's family understood entirely, and were excited by it too!)
Another example: recently I set up a blog called the Young Women's Breast Cancer Blog. I wanted to create a space for other young women with breast cancer to share writing if they don't have a blog of their own - maybe if they've never done it before, or if they are worried about anonymity etc. Sometimes I get an email come through - either a question, or a blog post submitted. I know that putting yourself and your writing out there can be nerve-wracking - so I try and reply right away, to at least acknowledge receipt and give an idea of when I will be able to get back to them properly, or upload their blog post.
Reading something on Facebook or Twitter. Sometimes when you look on your phone for one reason (eg an alert) something else catches your eye. Don't get me wrong - a lot of everyone's Facebook and Twitter timelines are useless shite. But not everything is. Once when I was with friends I spotted something on Facebook. My friend Claire had added a blog post with the title "Goodbye my friends." Obviously I read it right away. It was Claire letting everyone know that her cancer had spread to her brain, and she had days left. I completely zoned out of the conversation that was going on around me (and got scolded for it - until I explained what I'd seen). I didn't mean to be rude. But I had spotted that post and there was no way I wasn't going to read it immediately.
People can be so haughty about this, but actually looking at Facebook or Twitter doesn't automatically mean you are wasting time or looking at something of no value. Another example I'll give is that recently, Ruby Tandoh (Great British Bake Off winner) came out on Twitter. As a result of scrolling through Twitter and seeing her tweet, other people had a boost of bravery, and came out themselves.
Sometimes, the support you need and the inspiration you need are online - and many of us access the online world through our phones. Many people are part of online communities - not because they are shunning the company around them, but because a particular circumstance (such as in my case, an illness) or a particular interest, brings them together with people who just aren't local.
A couple of weeks ago my online friend Kayla saw something I wrote about Angelina Jolie's surgery to remove her ovaries. Both myself and Kayla are making decisions about our own ovaries as we too are at high risk of ovarian cancer. Kayla saw my post - not sure whether it was via Twitter or Facebook - and she immediately messaged me. We then arranged a time to talk about it all on Facetime. Without a mobile phone this wouldn't have happened. Kayla lives in California, I live in Leicester.
I wonder if Philip ever considered that that woman in the restaurant might have been looking at her phone for a similar reason. Maybe she wasn't arsing about, or taking part in mindless gossip or similar, just because she didn't want to engage with the "real" world around her. Maybe she was responding to something (or somebody) important to her?
Also, a note on the claim that "looking upwards and outwards is the source of all art, thought and literature" and (about communicating with others on a mobile phone) "Of course, none of this is going to lead to art, or literature, or intelligent observation about our fellow human beings." I call bullshit on this too. In my opinion, it is what is within a person that is the source of their art, the source of their thought, the source of their literature. The outside world can prompt reflection and inspire some creativity - but so can thinking, so can reading, so can conversation (whether out loud, or in writing).
And you know what else? Your mobile phone can be a wonderful facilitator in the discovery of art. I'll leave you with two things.
First of all, a link to a song. My friend Laura sent me a message the other day. She was out with friends for the evening, and took a few minutes out to read my post "Burn the pages (start tempting fate)". She said a song came on as she was reading and it seemed to really fit, so she shazammed it. It was Lykke Li, "Dance, dance dance". I downloaded it myself, love it, and have, as a result found a new musical artist that I like. Thanks to mine and Laura's mobile phones.
"Looking at your mobile? You’re cutting off a world of creativity – and flirtation " - (Philip Henscher)
An excerpt:
"It’s fair to say that, now that pretty well everyone owns a mobile phone, your engagement with the world can be judged by where your phone is while you’re eating dinner. The woman in the Mousehole restaurant had yielded to a heartfelt request, I would say, in placing it in her lap under the table. More usual will be those who place it on the table beside the plate; and now, there are those who eat with one hand, the other holding the iPhone 6, rapt, quite oblivious of the poor waiter trying to pour your water.
To me, it seems fairly staggeringly rude to behave like this when you’re in company, but nobody else seems to feel that way. The truth of the matter is that if present company were instantly removed, and replaced by the people who are currently receiving messages, the phones wouldn’t be put away. The messaging would probably continue, to another set of people. It isn’t about showing that you’d prefer to be talking to people who aren’t in the room. It’s about your preferred distance from the human race. Those who text at the dinner table would generally like their relations with humanity to be conducted at electronic speed, remotely."
Oh shut up! I'm sick of people telling other people how much they should or shouldn't look at their mobile phone, or what it means about them as a person, or their relationships with other people, or their engagement with the wider world if they look at their phone "too much" or at the "wrong" time. The woman in the Mousehole restaurant that Philip refers to was a complete stranger. He has no idea why she was on her phone. So why does he think he has the right to judge her behaviour as rude?
These are just some of the things I use my own mobile phone for:
- Phone calls and text messages
- Reading news articles (I never buy a newspaper anymore - I get the news on my phone, and it's not limited to what one newspaper has selected for printing on it's pages on a given day).
- Taking part in discussions in the Younger Breast Cancer Network UK forum.
- Reading and responding to emails.
- Scrolling through Twitter and Facebook.
- Taking photos.
- Shazaming.
- Making notes and reminders of important things that pop in to my head that I don't want to forget.
If I am out in a restaurant with you and I'm looking at my phone I might be:
Responding to alerts on Facebook. I'm a member of an online forum called the Younger Breast Cancer Network UK. There are over 1,000 members and it is a very active group. It was the information, advice and support of that group that got me through diagnosis, chemo, surgery and now radiotherapy. I've posted countless questions myself, and wonderful women across the UK who have been looking at their mobile phones wherever they happen to be have responded to me. As I've ticked different treatments off my list, I've learned and experienced enough that I can now answer other people's questions. I see it as a kind of Pay it Forward. Women who were diagnosed before me helped me, and now I want to do the same for women who have been diagnosed after me.
Sometimes I get an alert on my phone because someone has tagged me in a post - either to ask me a question personally, or draw my attention to a question or concern someone else has that they know I can help with. If I am out, and an alert pops up on my phone because someone is having a stress because they've found out they are going to have a skin sparing mastectomy with immediate LD flap and expander implant reconstruction plus full node clearance, is it rude for me to take a moment out to respond and send a link right away to the massive blog post I wrote all about my exact same (and not particularly common) surgery? If I am out and an alert pops up on my phone because someone is worried that their chemo vein has come up red and inflamed, is it rude for me to take a moment out and respond with a photo of my own, explaining it looks like a thing called superficial thrombophlebitis and is an inflammation and nothing to panic about? In my opinion - no. There are times that taking a moment out to respond to something like this can be a huge help, or save a person a lot of worry. I've been there myself. Going through cancer treatment can be terrifying, and the support of that group is invaluable. Right now, I am a part of it - whether I am sat in the hospital, or lying on my sofa, or out for a meal with you. I'm not thinking about it all the time - and as I move on with my life, I am lucky to be able to think about it less and less. But if an alert pops up because someone out there has a question I can answer, then I'm going to answer it!
Responding to emails. I mostly ignore emails when I'm out but sometimes there's a reason why I will check and reply. Here are two examples:
At Christmas, myself and some of my other YBCN friends who were sans-eyebrows as a result of chemo started creating our own festive "Christmas Chemobrows". Lots of the YBCN group joined in and Jojo created a community Buzzfeed article with lots of photos. It was a bit of fun - especially for women who were cooped up at home, ill from chemo, missing out on most of the festivities. The community article immediately got picked up by Buzzfeed, then Good Housekeeping, then the Telegraph, ITV news, Metro, Daily Mail, Good Morning America, ABC News America and so on and so on! I was getting emails from journalists, asking interview questions. This was while I was staying with my friend's family for Christmas. I didn't want to be rude, but I had to reply to the emails - it was wonderful publicity for our (volunteer-run) support group and the Christmas theme meant it was a very time-limited window of opportunity. (My friend's family understood entirely, and were excited by it too!)
Another example: recently I set up a blog called the Young Women's Breast Cancer Blog. I wanted to create a space for other young women with breast cancer to share writing if they don't have a blog of their own - maybe if they've never done it before, or if they are worried about anonymity etc. Sometimes I get an email come through - either a question, or a blog post submitted. I know that putting yourself and your writing out there can be nerve-wracking - so I try and reply right away, to at least acknowledge receipt and give an idea of when I will be able to get back to them properly, or upload their blog post.
Reading something on Facebook or Twitter. Sometimes when you look on your phone for one reason (eg an alert) something else catches your eye. Don't get me wrong - a lot of everyone's Facebook and Twitter timelines are useless shite. But not everything is. Once when I was with friends I spotted something on Facebook. My friend Claire had added a blog post with the title "Goodbye my friends." Obviously I read it right away. It was Claire letting everyone know that her cancer had spread to her brain, and she had days left. I completely zoned out of the conversation that was going on around me (and got scolded for it - until I explained what I'd seen). I didn't mean to be rude. But I had spotted that post and there was no way I wasn't going to read it immediately.
People can be so haughty about this, but actually looking at Facebook or Twitter doesn't automatically mean you are wasting time or looking at something of no value. Another example I'll give is that recently, Ruby Tandoh (Great British Bake Off winner) came out on Twitter. As a result of scrolling through Twitter and seeing her tweet, other people had a boost of bravery, and came out themselves.
Sometimes, the support you need and the inspiration you need are online - and many of us access the online world through our phones. Many people are part of online communities - not because they are shunning the company around them, but because a particular circumstance (such as in my case, an illness) or a particular interest, brings them together with people who just aren't local.
A couple of weeks ago my online friend Kayla saw something I wrote about Angelina Jolie's surgery to remove her ovaries. Both myself and Kayla are making decisions about our own ovaries as we too are at high risk of ovarian cancer. Kayla saw my post - not sure whether it was via Twitter or Facebook - and she immediately messaged me. We then arranged a time to talk about it all on Facetime. Without a mobile phone this wouldn't have happened. Kayla lives in California, I live in Leicester.
I wonder if Philip ever considered that that woman in the restaurant might have been looking at her phone for a similar reason. Maybe she wasn't arsing about, or taking part in mindless gossip or similar, just because she didn't want to engage with the "real" world around her. Maybe she was responding to something (or somebody) important to her?
Also, a note on the claim that "looking upwards and outwards is the source of all art, thought and literature" and (about communicating with others on a mobile phone) "Of course, none of this is going to lead to art, or literature, or intelligent observation about our fellow human beings." I call bullshit on this too. In my opinion, it is what is within a person that is the source of their art, the source of their thought, the source of their literature. The outside world can prompt reflection and inspire some creativity - but so can thinking, so can reading, so can conversation (whether out loud, or in writing).
And you know what else? Your mobile phone can be a wonderful facilitator in the discovery of art. I'll leave you with two things.
First of all, a link to a song. My friend Laura sent me a message the other day. She was out with friends for the evening, and took a few minutes out to read my post "Burn the pages (start tempting fate)". She said a song came on as she was reading and it seemed to really fit, so she shazammed it. It was Lykke Li, "Dance, dance dance". I downloaded it myself, love it, and have, as a result found a new musical artist that I like. Thanks to mine and Laura's mobile phones.
And finally, this wonderful photo that appeared in my Facebook timeline. Taken by my friend Jojo who is an artist. I'm getting it turned in to a print to be framed in my house. I love it.
UPDATE! I got a response from the man himself!
Call me old fashioned, but I think if you are going to write judgemental opinion pieces in the national press, you should be prepared for people to disagree with you and if you choose to respond you should be grown up enough to do so with intelligent debate, rather than patronising comments like this.
Darn technology!
Oopsie - there appears to be a technical glitch of some sort on Philip's Twitter account and his tweets have disappeared. Luckily I took screen shots, so just for an accurate record (once a historian, always a historian!) here they are...
And I actually missed this bit but Jessica has sent me a copy of what came next. She responded with "So lovely of you to say so! What a sweetie." and was then accused of homophobia! That's left me a bit speechless.
Monday, 16 March 2015
Ed Miliband, this is my response to your email
Dear Ed Miliband
Thank you for your email yesterday. You said this was my chance to ask you anything I like.
Thank you for your email yesterday. You said this was my chance to ask you anything I like.
As it happens, I have a very important question.
What are you going to do for my friend Jojo and other young women like her who have secondary breast cancer and who are currently unable to access the drugs they need through the NHS?
This is Jojo.
We became friends last year when we met through the Younger Breast Cancer Network UK. Jojo was diagnosed with breast cancer in May, I was diagnosed in July. In January, when she thought she was coming to the end of her treatment, Jojo was diagnosed with secondary breast cancer - it has spread to her liver. She has been given a worst-case prognosis of 6 months to live. She is 31 years old.
Jojo's friends are now fundraising to try and get together the money needed for private treatment, and possibly treatment abroad. In just 2 days £3,525 has been raised, which sounds like a huge amount of money, but for private treatment or treatment abroad it is nowhere near enough.
It shouldn't have to come to this. There are many highly innovative drugs that are licensed and that are being developed but that are not accessible to breast cancer patients in the UK. The last 8 consecutive drugs licensed for treating secondary breast cancer have been rejected by NICE for funding on the NHS. Drugs routinely used across Europe are not available in the UK- it is no surprise that the UK has the lowest breast cancer survivor rates. (As an example, the drug Lapatinib is available in 18 other countries including Ireland.)
The problem is cost and the UK Government can help fix this problem by demanding a fair price from pharmaceutical companies and creating a system of access and approval that will ensure cancer patients get the drugs they need at prices the NHS can afford.
Ed Miliband - I want to know, if you were elected as Prime Minister, would you address this?
Without access to the best treatments, my friend Jojo is going to die. I am in tears as a type this, it hurts me to even write it, it's devastating, but it is a fact. If you were Prime Minister you would be in a position to do something about it. So will you? Please? I don't want to lose my friend.
Yours sincerely,
Sarah Perry
Friday, 2 January 2015
In response to Richard Smith's BMJ blog "Dying of cancer is the best death"
"let’s stop wasting billions trying to cure cancer, potentially leaving us to die a much more horrible death."
Nice!
So who's the idiot that said this? Richard Smith, former editor of the BMJ, in a BMJ blog post published on 31 December 2014, entitled "Dying of cancer is the best death".
What Smith says about dying
According to Smith there are five ways to die.
- Suicide - but he doesn't want to discuss that.
- Sudden death - great for you but rubbish for the people you leave behind, especially if you weren't organised enough to have your death and funeral all sorted out in advance.
- Dementia - maybe the most awful, long, slow death.
- Death from organ failure - you'll be in hospital and in the hands of doctors waaaaay too much.
- Cancer - the best death!
"You can say goodbye, reflect on your life, leave last messages, perhaps visit special places for a last time, listen to favourite pieces of music, read loved poems, and prepare, according to your beliefs, to meet your maker or enjoy eternal oblivion.
This is, I recognise, a romantic view of dying, but it is achievable with love, morphine, and whisky."
What a load of rubbish!
Dying from cancer - the reality
I'll give my mom as an example. Without going in to personal details, in a nutshell, here is the story of her death from cancer, starting just before we knew she was going to die. (She'd been diagnosed with breast cancer 6 years earlier.)
- Saturday: She came to my house to dog sit for the evening while we were out. She was complaining of a headache and was not well. She stayed overnight.
- Sunday: She was unwell and behaving strangely - drowsy, complaining of severe headaches, not "with it". She refused to allow an emergency doctor to visit - she wanted to see her own oncologist the following day - she had a check up already booked in. She stayed overnight.
- Monday: She left my house to go to her oncology appointment - I phoned the hospital to tell them she had been unwell over the weekend - I was worried she wouldn't tell them. They gave her a brain scan and wanted to keep her in hospital. We visited that evening, and her oncologist privately told me the scans he had seen indicated the cancer had spread to the lining of her brain. She would have a few months to live. He didn't want to tell her until the next day when he had all scan results.
- Tuesday: she had been having seizures in the night, was given lots of medication, and spent the entire day unconscious in hospital.
- Wednesday: She was conscious in hospital but the oncologist was not in that day.
- Thursday: In the afternoon the oncologist visited her and gave her the news. She didn't want to talk and went to sleep.
- Friday: She was unconscious all day. I got home in the evening, and the hospital called me to tell me she had died in her sleep shortly after we left.
My mom isn't the only person I have watched die from cancer. Another example is my granddad who went in to hospital with a urine infection, and they found he was riddled with cancer. Over the following 5 weeks he died slowly, painfully, wasting away both physically and mentally bit by bit, day by day.
Death from cancer isn't the way Smith describes. It is incredibly painful - that's why you're given morphine. It is traumatic - for the person who is ill, and for their loved ones. It often involves multiple organs failing. The combination of chemical changes in the body as organs shut down, and the drugs given for pain, to stop seizures, etc mean the person you love can be replaced with a stranger. Death from cancer can make a person confused, aggressive, cold. They might not recognise their loved ones, or care any more about the things they once loved.
Death from cancer is cruel and frightening, for the person dying, and for the people around them. There's no amount of love, morphine or whisky that can change that. What Smith wrote is ridiculous, and very wrong.
"Lets stop wasting billions trying to cure cancer"
He doesn't stop there though! He takes it a step further and says that because cancer is the best death we should stop wasting billions trying to cure it because potentially that could leave us to die a more horrible death.
Seriously? Seriously?!
I wish that I could discuss this with Smith face to face. I have some questions I'd like to ask him.
- Does he think the money spent on my treatment is a waste? I'm 33 years old and I have breast cancer. The NHS has done a wonderful job in enabling me to fight and get rid of the cancer, meaning I can go on and live a full life. Is the money spent on my treatment - the drugs I've been given, the salaries of the doctors and nurses treating and looking after me - a waste?
- How about when children have cancer? Does he think the money spent developing treatments for cancer is a waste when it saves the lives of children who have their whole lives ahead of them?
- How about the money spent on developing treatments for cancers with the best prognoses? For example, nearly all men with testicular cancer are cured. Is the money spent on curing testicular cancer a waste?
- Can he not see that his statements about the different ways to die are so broad they are completely meaningless?
- If he were diagnosed with cancer himself, would he refuse treatment, on the basis of his argument that dying from cancer will potentially save him from a more horrible death?
- Similarly, if someone he loves is diagnosed with cancer, will he encourage them to refuse treatment on the same basis?
My alternative suggestion
Lets raise more money for research in to cancer, cancer treatments, and genetics. Let's do all we can to fight this disease that causes so much pain and suffering and save as many lives as possible. These are people we are talking about. Mothers and fathers, daughters and sons, sisters and brothers. Husbands and wives, boyfriends and girlfriends. Friends, neighbours, colleagues. Let's fund as much research as we can to keep the people we love well and with us for as long as possible.
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