Why I'm Running The 2019 London Marathon...
Katharine Page is raising money for The Royal Marsden Cancer Charity
Story
In September 2017 I was diagnosed with an aggressive Stage 3 Breast Cancer. I was only 36, a GP, and in the Army. I thought I was healthy, and I felt so well. I was about to deploy on to Norway on Exercise. How could this happen to me?
I’m a doctor, and I spent the night I found the lump in my boob googling treatments for cancer. It took no time at all to know that I wanted to be treated at the Royal Marsden, a hospital dedicated solely to cancer diagnosis, treatment and research.
In the early days I just wanted a plan, and for nothing in my life to change. The Marsden were amazing. Hundreds of patients go through their doors every single day, and yet over innumerable appointments they never made me feel like just another patient. I planned chemotherapy, surgery and radiotherapy, and a year of targeted drug therapy.
After my diagnosis, a doctor colleague said to me – “be prepared for this to change your life. In every way”. I was raging that they had said this, and I went in to treatment determined to continue as normal.
Predictably, everything did change. Within a couple of months of chemotherapy I could only walk painfully slowly around the local park, my hair fell out and my body swelled up, and every joint ached. On one occasion I was hospitalised with crippling bone pain as a result of one of the drugs. I would sit on the floor of the shower too tired and sore to stand. Surgery left me with chronic pain in my chest and lymphoedema in my arm. Daily radiotherapy made me so tired I stayed in the waiting room for over an hour after treatment summoning the energy just to drive home to bed. My brain stopped working well, and I gave up any ambitions of being able to work.
The emotional and physical degradation of cancer treatment totally threw me. The Marsden supported me through how hard it hit me, and in the early days my specialist nurses rang every day. On the day I was told, (before my third cycle) that chemo wasn't working I just remember the Consultant fixing me and saying with absolute confidence “We will have something new for you tomorrow”. Most people hate hospitals, but I always felt safer there than outside. They just “get it”.
I had applied to run the marathon during treatment. Cancer had robbed me of myself, but I have been determined to make this temporary. I knew it wouldn't be long after the end of treatment, but in my mind, this Marathon would mark a turning point and possibly even mark the end of this episode of my life. .
I finished over a year of cancer treatment only 4 months ago, in December 2018, and thanks to The Marsden, in February this year I had my first disease free scan.
Being gifted a place to run for the Royal Marsden Cancer Charity is more important to me than I can describe. I don’t ask for your hard earned money lightly. I have been quiet about this run until now, with a few weeks to go, because I haven’t trusted this treacherous body of mine. I’m still tired, I’m finding survivorship hard. But, I will run each mile in celebration of the people that have supported me, to feel grateful for the side effects of the drugs that cured my disease, and in recognition of those people who have inspired me to keep going. Please sponsor me for a mile or the whole thing. Pick a mile and tell me which one!
I’d like to raise as much money as possible, because I am so lucky, and everyone deserves to be in the same situation. Importantly, the Royal Marsden Cancer Charity raises money to support ALL cancers.
Training has not been consistent, its been bloody hard and I’m incredibly nervous about the day, but my list will be with me, and will hopefully inspire me over the 26.2 miles, no matter how long it takes.
Running this marathon is my rebellion against this disease, crossing the line will be me slamming the door on this episode of my life.
It's not just the finishing line of a running race.
Mile:
1.For Steph
2.For Amanda
3.For Kerry
4.For Al
5.For my parents, who lived their worst nightmare.
6.For Max, who bore the brunt of the bad days
7.For friends, who didn't know what to say but came anyway. (And brought cake)
8.For everyone who sat with me in hospital chairs.
9.For my nieces and nephew and seeing them grow up.
10.For losing my hair
11.For the bone pain
12.For the nausea
13.For the tiredness
14.For insomnia
15.For the hot flushes
16.For chemo brain
17.For all the needles.
18.For the sad times
19.For the fear in the middle of the night
20.For the 82 doctors, nurses, radiographers and HCAs who have seen my boobs (I counted you all)
21.For the person being given their diagnosis today.
22.For the person sitting in chemo chair 6 today.
23.For the 50,000 patients treated by the Marsden each year.
24.Because its only running. Because I am so lucky to be able to do this.
25.For the end,
26. (.2) And for the future
Thank you,
Kate
xx
I’m a doctor, and I spent the night I found the lump in my boob googling treatments for cancer. It took no time at all to know that I wanted to be treated at the Royal Marsden, a hospital dedicated solely to cancer diagnosis, treatment and research.
In the early days I just wanted a plan, and for nothing in my life to change. The Marsden were amazing. Hundreds of patients go through their doors every single day, and yet over innumerable appointments they never made me feel like just another patient. I planned chemotherapy, surgery and radiotherapy, and a year of targeted drug therapy.
After my diagnosis, a doctor colleague said to me – “be prepared for this to change your life. In every way”. I was raging that they had said this, and I went in to treatment determined to continue as normal.
Predictably, everything did change. Within a couple of months of chemotherapy I could only walk painfully slowly around the local park, my hair fell out and my body swelled up, and every joint ached. On one occasion I was hospitalised with crippling bone pain as a result of one of the drugs. I would sit on the floor of the shower too tired and sore to stand. Surgery left me with chronic pain in my chest and lymphoedema in my arm. Daily radiotherapy made me so tired I stayed in the waiting room for over an hour after treatment summoning the energy just to drive home to bed. My brain stopped working well, and I gave up any ambitions of being able to work.
The emotional and physical degradation of cancer treatment totally threw me. The Marsden supported me through how hard it hit me, and in the early days my specialist nurses rang every day. On the day I was told, (before my third cycle) that chemo wasn't working I just remember the Consultant fixing me and saying with absolute confidence “We will have something new for you tomorrow”. Most people hate hospitals, but I always felt safer there than outside. They just “get it”.
I had applied to run the marathon during treatment. Cancer had robbed me of myself, but I have been determined to make this temporary. I knew it wouldn't be long after the end of treatment, but in my mind, this Marathon would mark a turning point and possibly even mark the end of this episode of my life. .
I finished over a year of cancer treatment only 4 months ago, in December 2018, and thanks to The Marsden, in February this year I had my first disease free scan.
Being gifted a place to run for the Royal Marsden Cancer Charity is more important to me than I can describe. I don’t ask for your hard earned money lightly. I have been quiet about this run until now, with a few weeks to go, because I haven’t trusted this treacherous body of mine. I’m still tired, I’m finding survivorship hard. But, I will run each mile in celebration of the people that have supported me, to feel grateful for the side effects of the drugs that cured my disease, and in recognition of those people who have inspired me to keep going. Please sponsor me for a mile or the whole thing. Pick a mile and tell me which one!
I’d like to raise as much money as possible, because I am so lucky, and everyone deserves to be in the same situation. Importantly, the Royal Marsden Cancer Charity raises money to support ALL cancers.
Training has not been consistent, its been bloody hard and I’m incredibly nervous about the day, but my list will be with me, and will hopefully inspire me over the 26.2 miles, no matter how long it takes.
Running this marathon is my rebellion against this disease, crossing the line will be me slamming the door on this episode of my life.
It's not just the finishing line of a running race.
Mile:
1.For Steph
2.For Amanda
3.For Kerry
4.For Al
5.For my parents, who lived their worst nightmare.
6.For Max, who bore the brunt of the bad days
7.For friends, who didn't know what to say but came anyway. (And brought cake)
8.For everyone who sat with me in hospital chairs.
9.For my nieces and nephew and seeing them grow up.
10.For losing my hair
11.For the bone pain
12.For the nausea
13.For the tiredness
14.For insomnia
15.For the hot flushes
16.For chemo brain
17.For all the needles.
18.For the sad times
19.For the fear in the middle of the night
20.For the 82 doctors, nurses, radiographers and HCAs who have seen my boobs (I counted you all)
21.For the person being given their diagnosis today.
22.For the person sitting in chemo chair 6 today.
23.For the 50,000 patients treated by the Marsden each year.
24.Because its only running. Because I am so lucky to be able to do this.
25.For the end,
26. (.2) And for the future
Thank you,
Kate
xx