This is Sally’s lung cancer story, told in her own words. She shares her experience to raise awareness about early diagnosis and inspire others facing similar challenges.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
I’ll never forget that question. Sitting in front of a Respiratory Consultant at the Conquest Hospital in Hastings. I had a pretty good idea.
I have Emphysema, and thanks to that, I’m incredibly tuned into the parlous state of my lungs. Things hadn’t been right for a while. An X-ray showed nothing more than normal amiss, but thankfully, my GP referred me for my life-saving CT Scan. A few days later, I was told it was “suspected cancer”.
Receiving the Diagnosis
I was so calm! Thinking back, it was quite out of body. The “cancer-free” me looking down on the “suspected cancer” me. I knew it was cancer. Although the consultant said they couldn’t just guess, and that I’d have to undergo a bronchoscopy, biopsies and more. Nothing to worry about. Which meant there probably was.
I kind of floated back into the room as all this was being said. Then my wonderful Macmillan Nurse, my angel for the next few months, handed me an array of Roy Castle Cancer Foundation info packs! And a parking pass valid for 6 months. I was inordinately pleased with that and raved about silver linings, grasping at any positive I could get out of the situation. It still makes me laugh today at the joy I felt.
That early evening appointment set in motion the mighty gears of the NHS Cancer machine – I was away on my journey. Everything seemed to happen so quickly. My calendar had never looked so populated. Not quite the social whirl, but I certainly met lots of people, most in an NHS uniform, and most very kind.
I really do think that first encounter at the Conquest set me up with solid foundations, which instilled in me trust, hope and confidence that whatever happened over the next few months, it was going to be OK. I am a great believer in everything being exactly as it’s meant to be at any given time. Maybe that explains why I felt no fear or dread throughout any of this.
Was I abnormal? Very peculiar, but apart from nerves prior to various procedures, I did feel I was in very safe and competent hands, and this was all going to be OK.
Finding Strength and Humour
People told me that I could beat this and fight back. That cancer would not win. I journaled through all of this, and an overriding message in my outpourings was that I could not see it as a battle. A battle can be lost, and I didn’t feel like I was in a win/lose situation. My cancer and I were jogging along together, and that soon our paths would split and we’d go our separate ways. That was it – and ever so simple.
My default is to find humour in every situation. So, I merrily wrote away on FB during pivotal points leading up to and through treatment, as well as post-treatment and into recovery. I took the whole journey very seriously, but the humour allowed me to level things in my mind and keep myself emotionally healthy.
To complement my rambling thought processes, I asked for and accepted help from that vast array of cancer charities and groups that envelop the NHS in a great big supportive hug. I had 12 weeks of counselling, and at my final therapy session, my counsellor seemed ever so pleased that I finally cried!
With the all clear came the knowledge that this was not the end of the journey. In a way, it will always be ongoing. Fitting back into a new normal, adjusting priorities, refocusing energies, it puts it all into perspective.
Walking a Mile a Day in October
That was in June 2025, and here we are today. Walking a Mile a Day in October! As soon as I saw the challenge, I knew I could do it. With the Emphysema taking my lung function down to about half, and then radiotherapy taking it down some more, exercise can be a struggle. Good days, bad days, but I need to push myself, and this has been brilliant. It’s a very personal cause. I feel extremely proud to be doing just a tiny bit to repay what I’ve been given.
Looking after myself in mind, body, and spirit is a way of showing my gratitude to the NHS, all the outside help I’ve received, friends and family, and my amazing husband, Paul. He’s been with me at every twist and turn. His free hospital parking skills have been superb! He went through his own cancer journey in 2020, so we’ve seen this disease from both sides. I can honestly say that watching Paul go through his cancer journey was harder for me than going through my own. But saying that, he was a great role model.
A Message to Others
My big message to anyone who is the slightest bit concerned about breathing changes is to get along to your GP as soon as possible. The quicker anomalies are picked up, the greater the chance of success in treatment. There is always hope and support, and so much love and compassion on offer. I have been truly humbled over this last year at the vast amount that’s been channelled my way and helped carry me through.
I had my first 3-monthly check-up scan results in mid-September. Still nothing to see! I’m really confident about the future, and just for today, everything is just as it should be. Cancer-free and walking quite slowly with a purpose!
At the last look-see, my JustGiving donations stood at £962.00. I’m over the Moon!
You can support Sally’s fundraiser here.