‘Greatful for the second chance’

One ordinary Wednesday morning, I left the house to take our baby to a class. Midway there, I got a call. “Can you come home?” he asked. I walked in to find him in bed, curtains drawn, barely making sense. His head was pounding. I called his sister, a GP, then very swiftly 999. The ambulance came quickly and he was assessed very cleverly via iPad by Queen Square, before being blue-lighted to hospital.

Remarkably, he was only in for two nights. High on steroids to reduce the swelling, he returned home while we waited for the next steps. 

What followed was a blur — hospital appointments, googling, caring for a baby, managing a rising tide of fear and emotions I didn’t have time to feel. Then came the diagnosis that no one is ready for; Stage four metastatic melanoma. Brain and lung mets.

You hear that, and your world cracks open.

I scrambled for information — speaking to anyone who could help, reading survival stories, researching specialists. Our bedside table became a mountain of cancer books. I googled obsessively, searching for hope. And there were survival stories.

But then came Easter weekend — another blow. The brain tumour was growing faster than expected. We rushed my husband to hospital again. A screaming six-month-old in the backseat. My partner barely coherent. A friend racing us to the hospital. And then, the goodbye at the doors — no entry allowed because of covid, I can’t tell you what that feels like.

He was transferred to Queen Square once more. A brain operation relieved the pressure. Then, again, he was home — fragile, confused, and me increasingly anxious.

The treatment for advanced melanoma had come a long way in recent years — something I’ll always be grateful for. He began a double dose of immunotherapy (a powerful treatment, if it works, but not without risk) and radiotherapy. The weeks and months that followed involved more scans, more unknowns, more moments of holding our breath.

Then, in May we received our first piece of good news: the tumours had shrunk, the treatment was making a difference. 

This certainly wasn’t the end. The past four years have brought more ups and downs than I could ever list — hyper-vigilance, scares, regular scans, COVID, our wedding, the birth of our second daughter, a house move, and countless moments in between.

We’re now at the stage of having six monthly scans, and feeling grateful for the second chance we’ve been given as a family. 

Warm wishes

Katie 

Thanks so much Katie to you, your husband and family. We really appreciate you sharing your story and we are very grateful for the contribution you have and will make in the fight against Melanoma. Wishing you onward health and happiness from all the Melanoma UK team.

PS.. We love the work you are doing at Barley Designs,  your Sunshine Prints  collection looks amazing whilst conveying the important messages on sun safety and a donation to our cause.