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Nothing can prepare you for the devistating news of being told you have a Brain Tumour, it is something that happens to someone else and not you. The words will haunt me forever, "I am sorry but we have found a large mass in your head. We will have to start you on a cocktail of drugs and will not be able to let you home as we do not know your prognosis". I took one look at my husband and asked him if he was ok,then said we had better arrange for cover for the Kids.

It was around 10pm when I was taken to the ward so my husband had to ask if he would be allowed back in once he had been home to get me a few bits. I can remember the feeling of emptiness as the news had yet to sink in. I was then given about 8 tablets to take without even knowing what they were for. After a number of horrid, lonely days, I was eventually transferred to the John Radcliffe hospital in Oxford, still in the dark with what was going on.

One thing I knew was that I wanted life to be as normal as possible (whatever normal means), for my children who were 3 and 10 at the time. I even sent a text to my boss saying that I would not be in work on Monday and may need a few days off.

Within about 30 minutes of arriving at the John Racliffe things had been explained to me and I had signed a consent form for an emergency Crainiotomy the next day. My Surgeon had been to see me but by this time my husband had to make the hour journey back home to the children. I had to call him and he pulled over in a layby whilst the surgeon put my phone on loud speaker to have a conversation and explain the severity of the situation and the reasons for immediate removal. (The tumour was the size of my fist squashing my brain below my eyes)

Eventually, after weeks in hospital due to unforseen circumstances, I had my operation. After 10 hours in surgery it was touch and go for a while as to whether I had lost the movement in my left side due to the location of the tumour and the fact it was embedded in a main vein. I spent time in Intensive care (and have vivid memories of which I am now sure were just the drugs talking) then a further 5 days in the High Dependency Unit. In total I spent around 7 weeks in hospital.

The first six months of recovery were quite lonely as I could not really articulate how I was feeling (although my family and friend were brilliant it's not the same as talking to someone who has gone through the same treatment). There was little or no medical support around me and I found it difficult looking on line not only because I could not see properly but also because the internet can be full of doom and gloom. I then found the Brains Trust who are a charity about supporting people and not about finding a cure. My life line came first in a Box sent by the Brains trust called a Brain box -the box contained valuable information along with a few home comforts (journal, literature, tea bags, lip balm, hand cream and a stress brain), they also arrange meet ups for individuals and families to get together to exchange experiences and offer friendship and support. I know that there are a lot of families out their struggling with the diagnosis of a Brain tumour and it's my aim to touch at least 50 lives / families in the form of a Brain box so they do not have to have the experience  I had within the first 6 months.

Walking has been a major part of my recovery journey with having to give up my driving licence for a while, so what better way to help others by combining walking with people who have supported me along the way to raise money to help others.

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