The first time I remember the word 'cancer' being used and knowing it was something to fear was when I was 13, when my dear old grandad was diagnosed with it. I was young and naive and assumed that he would get through it but I was wrong - 2 weeks after his admittance to hospital he died, and it was then I knew that this 'cancer' thing was not something that could easily be gotten rid of, but something scary.

 

A few years passed, my family and I thought we were cancer free until the autumn of 2010 when my other grandad was too diagnosed with cancer. I was angry and afraid and didn't know why someone with so much life in him and someone that was so healthy could possibly get this vile disease. It is 2 and a half years on from then and he is still fighting cancer - although he will never completely be rid of it, he refuses to accept that it is something that can hold him back and lives each day with more and more life in him.

 

As well as my two beloved grandads, in the summer of last year, my lovely beautiful aunty was targeted by the bastard (sorry) that is breast cancer. Luckily we caught it early, but because of the aggressive nature of the cancer she is having to have the full range of treatment available and will not be 100% for around another year.

 

Now I don't know why my family was so unfortunate as to be hit with the big C three times, along with extended family and friends, but I know for sure that I will do my best to raise as much money I can to try and get rid of this disease once and for all. So please, donate as little or as much as you can to help me raise money for Cancer Research UK, and hopefully one day cancer will be gone for good!

 

xoxoxox