I never thought I would be writing this. I never thought I would lose my dad so soon, he was 61 and I am 30. 

This time last year, 2019 we were prepping for our annual Christmas Shopping trip with my sister. His birthday, her birthday, Christmas and my birthday still to come. No idea that these would be our lasts.

2020 came and he was in good shape, running 5ks, 8 miles and even 10miles or more some days. He would be writing all the running events in his calendar and signing up to as many as he could (no idea about COVID... obviously). A couple of months or so passed and he started having to write up his pains in his lower abdomen; when they started, how long they lasted, what he'd eaten and so on. Furloughed at this point he managed to keep doing the odd run or cycle.

In fact, he actually cycled himself to A&E once. He attended multiple appointments with his GP, usually over the phone because of COVID but he didn't seem to get anywhere in terms of treatment or diagnoses. Hence a couple of trips to A&E..... twice turned away after they tested his blood pressure, completed ECG's and blood tests. Told to go home because they couldn't find anything wrong with him. One trip lasted less than half an hour.

Back on the phone to his GP searching for answers... 

My dad was one of the fittest and healthiest blokes I knew. He actually suffered a ruptured appendix years ago.... even then he had to be convinced to go to Hospital, he'd barely laid down before they were whisking him off for surgery. This was the only time he needed the NHS. For someone like dad... taking himself to A&E was serious. He wasn't right. 

He stopped running and eventually cycling. In fact some days he couldn't even face a Zoom call with us..... his family. My dad has been my best mate all my life, I was known as his shadow when I was a kid. He later became a bit of a joke in my adult years as I'd want to take him to anything I could, "you going to bring your dad". I didn't care and I made sure dad didn't either... forcing him to tell me he loved me on EVERY single phone call and whenever I saw him. Whether this was in front of his customers, colleagues or anyone else....

I look back through our Whatsapp conversation with the majority of 2020 asking "What sort of day are you having? Feeling any better?" to which he'd reply "Better today. Got stomach ache this morning but feel loads better. Not going in to work today." This was typical dad... no moaning, no real emotion but saying he wasn't going in to work, this was so far from normal.

I hated those days as there wasn't much else a priority and frustration was high. But.... he was still here.

He started his diary for pain and discomfort in March 2020, he wasn't diagnosed until August at which point the whole family started to Google "Pancreatic Cancer". Nothing good or remotely positive comes from a search like this. 

In fact, it will tell you that more than half of people diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer will die within 3 months. 

How is this possible for someone like dad? He was running more miles than I ever could and always faster than I ever could. He cycled to work, he ate healthy foods and always looked after himself. He was a man of few words generally but of even fewer from this moment on.

I would assume everyone does this in this situation, hold on to the glimmer of hope that Chemotherapy might bring. It might extend his life by a few months dependant on intensity, that's if he is up to it. 

Appointments seem to come thick and fast after diagnosis. He couldn't get a scan or physically see anyone for months because of COVID. He endured so much more pain and discomfort because of this retched pandemic and the way patients are now dealt with, within the NHS. 

He was then told he wouldn't be up to Chemotherapy as his stent hadn't worked as well as they had hoped. He was too weak and it wouldn't be enough. 

For this next appointment I was sat waiting for his return in his garden. Not letting any tears form or showing any kind of fear or anguish. Then I saw him walk through the garden gate and through to the kitchen. I just knew any hope of any kind had been taken away from him. He was given just WEEKS to live.

He came and sat across from me, put his hood up and started cry. This was the hardest moment I have ever experienced with my dad. What do you even say? What do you do? How can anything make this any easier for him?

I'll skip through this next bit for obvious reasons but anyone knowing my dad and knowing our family will know just how shocking and deeply upsetting this was. He was always the one we went to for help and support and these moments meant our roles reversed.

On the topic of role reversal, this brings me to this challenge "Running 100 miles in November". My dad was the runner..... not me. I went to watch him run many events, screaming "go on Dad" and whistled like mad so that everyone knew he was my dad. I was so proud and I know he will be of me too.

This is of course something I am doing for dad but I also want to help the others who will be going through something similar. Pancreatic Cancer is tough to diagnose, tough to research and even tougher to survive. I will find this challenge incredibly hard but I know it is nothing compared to what he and we have just been through.

I hadn't originally planned to do something so soon but as November is Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month... and his birthday 19th November is also WORLD Pancreatic Cancer Day... it seems only right.

Please donate not only in my dad's memory but to help raise awareness and vital funds needed to help beat this awful disease. Anything helps and everything counts! Thank you so much!