When I first wrote this story, I was 18 and still studying for A levels. I am now a few days from turning 20, working in my dream industry, and a much different person to who I was last year, however my story stays the same.

I knew the moment around 12 doctors walked into the room I had stayed over night in (one of them grabbed a chair it’s so over) after being in A&E for 15 hours prior, that I wasn’t about to hear good news. I understood however, that there was no way to avoid what was to come (unless I wanted to die, of course) other than facing it head on, and so a few days later, on the day of my sweet 16, I was transferred to UCLH, where I would spend the next 6 months of the ‘best years of my life’ as an inpatient undergoing one of the top 3 harshest chemo regiments.

Everybody knows that cancer is bad, it’s not a word that you can just say without feeling at least a little bit guilty, but nobody REALLY knows what it’s like unless you’ve been in that ward yourself. Nobody knows just how sick you get. Hair loss is the least of our problems, yet it seems to be the only symptom people outside of the bubble consider!

One of the hardest things for me, as a performer, was witnessing myself succumb to the fatigue brought on by several rounds of chemotherapy, and lose my mobility and communication skills. Within a few weeks, I had lost the things I had been training and working on since primary school. I couldn’t walk, not even to the toilet which was 5 paces down the corridor to me without collapsing. So of course that means dancing and any kind of physical theatre is out of the question. I couldn’t talk without losing my breath and feeling like my throat was burning up. So how on earth was I supposed to sing? I would watch my friends, who got to continue performing and think, how? How are you all doing that? How aren’t any of you passing out right now? And thats when it sunk in, that I was quite literally disabled. I could not walk. I could not speak. I could not do anything without blacking out. How are you even supposed to live like that? During the period of my treatment, I reverted into a blank slate, with nothing to identify myself with after it all left me day by day.

However, with the aid of the Teenage Cancer Trust, and everyone working on the Teenage Cancer ward at UCLH, there was always a silver lining, and always something worth fighting for. Whether it was toastie day on the ward and I got to pick if I wanted a cheese toastie or a cheese AND HAM toastie, or if the therapy dog was visiting the ward and I got to pretend that I was actually cuddling my own dog that I hadn’t seen for months (who wouldn’t stop growling at me when I got home, because she could smell the toxicity inside of my body), or if there were arts and crafts people going around and I got to start working on my intense collection of colouring books, or if the physios were going to do musical theatre themed therapy and I got to act as if I were back in a live theatre instead of an operational theatre, there was always something that TCT gave me, to remind me exactly why I was suffering so much, and what I was fighting for. Life does not have to end with cancer. Life can happen INSIDE the ward, WHILE you have cancer. TCT helped to bring that life to me. Even though I was sick the majority of the time I was in, the option to get up and do something was always there. It wasn't just some sad little plain ward with nothing going on apart from sick people moping about, like, there was literally a PS4.

The marathon this Sunday is not only my 20th birthday, but the 4 year anniversary of my diagnosis. There was a time during my treatment where I had planned to commit suicide, I couldn’t take the physical and mental torture anymore. I planned to hoard the morphine medication I was given for pain killers, and take too much, too soon. Without the support of TCT, I’m sure I would have gone through with that plan, and given up long ago, but all of the staff at TCT were there to keep me on my feet, metaphorically or literally.

This is exactly why I want to raise money for this cause, so I can give back to the people who gave me life, and make it so all of the other kids who are in that ward can remind themselves of exactly what they’re fighting for as well, and so they don't end up going through with their plans to end their own life, because there is so much outside of the ward to be experienced, and without those little reminders on the inside, you start to forget what's out there, and you start to forget that turning 20 is possible.

A friend in the ward told me “my mum doesn’t know, but I’m not afraid of dying young.”, but in that moment I felt afraid for him, because we very well could have died young. He is now happy, healthy, and also turning 20 soon.

You don’t need to save a life to make it worth living, which is why I am now asking you to donate whatever you can to aid me in my donation goal, every bit counts, genuinely. There were many parents on the ward who did not have a bed to sleep in, it was always a gamble going home after your cycle finishes, because chances are you wouldn’t return to the bed that you left there. Food was always being stolen from the fridge, even if it was wrapped, labelled, and stored in your own section, so refrigerated food and meals were out of the picture. With this donation, we could make it so that these things do not need to be a concern. We aren’t allowed air conditioning on the ward, as to minimise the spread of airborne bacteria, but with this donation, we could fund personal fans for each bay so that nobody has to overheat during the summer (bearing in mind, 2022 was when we had the 40 degree heatwave). There were many drip stands with wheels that didn’t work, and were almost impossible to push around the ward - sometimes you’d even have to carry them - Which, when you hardly have the strength to carry yourself, is not an ideal situation. With this donation, we could fund fully functional drip stands, so patients can easily maneuver around the ward, and not have an extra weight (literally), or burden to carry with them. Even if you think that you don’t have a lot to give - even if it’s just a fiver or even less - that could go towards a delicious cheese and ham toastie, or some plasters, incase you burn your foot on a rogue piece of scorching ham (NOT speaking from experience...).

Thank you for reading this far, It means the world that I am able to share part of my story. I say part, as there is a lot I still haven’t got the courage to share. As soon as you think you know how bad cancer is, multiply it by ten. I think as a society, all we talk about it symptoms of cancer, and then the people who die of it, there's never any conversation about what it's actually like to live with such a demon, I think people would take care of themselves more if they knew what it actually does to you - there's a lot I've left out of this, as it might put you off reading lol.

I’m looking forward to Sunday, to not only cross that line for myself as an entirely different person, entering a brand new decade and chapter of my life, but for all of the other kids and teenagers suffering with cancer who. I want to show them that you CAN live with cancer, and better yet, recovery IS possible, and maybe one day you wont just dance and sing again, but you'll run a marathon.

More importantly, I want to dedicate this run to Kacpar. Someone I never knew, and will never forget.

Thank you for reading, go and live your life ❤️