I’d expected to be in hospital, but not like this. My first grandchild was due and I’d promised my daughter, Katie, 24, I’d help as her birthing partner along with her husband Geraint, also 24. Instead, I was being told I had leukaemia and if I didn’t start chemo immediately, I had less than two months to live. In one afternoon, everything had changed. ‘Normal’ was a distant memory and survival became my only purpose.
‘I WAS TOO BUSY TO BE LAID UP IN BED’ In October 2009, life was busy and exciting. Me and husband Ross, 50, were thrilled at becoming grandparents, and our other daughter, Jess, 20, and son, Joshua, 15, were delighted for Katie and Geraint.
Feeling exhausted
I was expanding my food-safety consultancy business while lecturing…