Thanks for taking the time to visit my JustGiving page.

On Friday 18th May I will be part of a team from Microsoft Business Applications who will take on the National 3 Peaks Challenge to raise
funds for the Brainbow service, based out of Addenbrooke's Hospital in
Cambridge.  The challenge will start by climbing Ben Nevis in Scotland,
then drive down to the Lake District, climb Scafell Pike, and then drive down to North Wales to climb Mount Snowdon.  This involves 470 miles of driving, and 23 miles of climbing up and down mountains – and we’re aiming to do all of this within 24 hours, with the climb of Snowdon being done overnight.

I consider my contribution a privelage and honour to support the great work charities do and especially those who impact friends, family and subjects close to my heart. 

A colleague and friend (Martin Shave) shared this emotional story with me soon after joining Microsoft and when the opportunity arose for me to support the continued great work this charity provides I didn't hesitate. 

I would encourage you to read on to get some appreciation for what I am supporting and where possible.please donate what you can, no matter how small, it all helps to change so many families lives like Martins. 

“As many of you will know, back in 2009, my wife and I were delivered the most horrific news that our two year old daughter, Camille, had a brain tumour surrounding her brain stem the size of an adult fist. The immediate reaction is to begin the mourning process and I can honestly say that, at that time, I believed we only had her with us for a week or two, the deterioration was that severe. In those early days, I went into meetings with a neurosurgeon alone, where he would describe the bleak outlook facing us.

Following a biopsy, I remember receiving a call from the specialist nurse at Addenbrooke’s Hospital in Cambridge; she was to deliver the news that the type of tumour that was growing in Camille’s head can be treated and she would start chemotherapy the week after. This was the news we had hoped for and all of a sudden a chink of light appeared at the end of the tunnel. Nothing could prepare us for what was to follow.

Camille started high dose chemotherapy in the July, every two weeks into Cambridge for one of four different, highly toxic doses of medicine; some sessions lasting for five days on the ward. The weeks in between chemo, it was a 90% chance that she would get an infection and due to a non-existent immune system, we would spend another 2/3 days in our local hospital on antibiotics. This cycle continued for a year, with my wife having to give up work, having to leave my eldest daughter’s birthday party half way through, to get Camille to hospital because her temperature had spiked; being in hospital on Christmas Day because
of yet another infection. After well over a year, Camille came down with an infection. Within hours her lips started to go blue, her fingers and toes were ice cold. She had gone into septic shock due to the Klebsiella infection in her Hickman Line, a tube that delivered chemo drugs directly into her jugular. Her organs began to shut down and that is the closest we came to losing her.  Following that incident, Camille could no longer pass the chemo drugs effectively enough due to kidney damage, so we were left with no choice, it had to be surgery.

The neurosurgeon that I had those early meetings with was only  confident about getting 80-90% of the tumour out as it was engulfing the brain stem and all of her central nerves, that control feeling to the face, the swallow instinct and many other critical functions. We didn’t take this as our best hope and after extensive research we found that Alder Hey hospital had an MRI scanner in the theatre. We contacted them and they offered us a referral to see Mr Mallucci, the main neurosurgeon up there in Liverpool. His confidence enabled us to put
our trust in him and over the next few weeks and months, he performed three nine hour operations on Camille’s brain. Central nerves are the width of hairs on you head; imagine trying to pick away a ball of plasticine with hairs going through it for nine hours without damaging a single hair. Camille came out of chemo and surgery a very different little girl to the one that was diagnosed 18 months prior.

Following that, we petitioned and campaigned with whoever we could and managed to get the NHS to fund for us to go to Jacksonville, Florida for 4 months so that Camille could undergo Proton Therapy treatment, a more direct, much safer form of radiotherapy for children’s brains. Every day of the working week for that time she was given a general anaesthetic, strapped to a gurney with a mask on to keep her lined up and treated with radiation again. We finished in April 2011 and ever since, Camille’s scans have been clear.

Camille and children like her struggle with so many aspects of
life, from the physical to the psychological. Camille had to learn to walk 3 times, she lacks any strength and is many years behind her peers at school. We set up a charity called Camille’s Appeal, which is now Brainbow at Addenbrooke’s Hospital, to help children like Camille have a chance at an independent and better life by providing a focused and specific rehabilitation service to children who have had a brain tumour. Through years of fundraising, Brainbow provides physiotherapy, psychological therapy, occupational health, speech and language and school liaison to these amazing children. Getting a clear scan is actually just the beginning of a lifelong battle.”