It was November 2001, when I was diagnosed with cancer. I was 38 years old, married and a mother of four teenage children, ages between 13 yrs and 19yrs. I live in Bridgwater which is in Somerset. I was working full-time as a live out Housekeeper and Nanny, as well as looking after my own family. I used to go to the gym on a regular basis. I thought I was fit and healthy.

I left work on the Friday night and while having a shower on Sunday evening, had this sharp pain in my lower back and down my right leg. I tried to ignore it but the pain increased. I thought I might have turned awkwardly so took some paracetamol and went to bed, I did not settle. Monday morning, my husband went on to work and I went to see an emergency GP at my surgery. By now, I was reaching for the ceiling, as every time I moved, there was this sharp continuous pain. It was decided that my parents should drive me to the surgery as it was impossible for me to drive. My daughter came with me when I saw the doctor; he examined me and explained that I should get checked over in hospital. He went on to explain that it might be a trapped nerve but because I had no sensation around my anus and upper right leg, he just wanted to be sure. I declined as I thought he was making a mountain out of a mole hill, so he sent me away with some stronger painkillers. The day went on and the painkillers were not working. That same GP rang me in the evening to ask how I was. This time he insisted that I go to hospital and arranged for an ambulance to pick me up. My husband came home from work and travelled with me in the ambulance to Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton, Somerset. We still were still not aware of what lay ahead.

When I arrived at hospital, they examined me again and arranged for me to have an MRI scan. The doctor gave me some morphine for the pain but again this did not work, by this time I was vomiting. The MRI scan revealed a shadow on my lower spine; the Consultant said that I had to be transferred to Frenchay Hospital in Bristol. I was scared and still did not understand what was going on. When I arrived at Frenchay hospital, I was taken into a side room with my husband. A Registrar doctor came into the room to speak to us. He explained that I had a large tumour in the lumbar area of my spine and they would be operating the next morning. I had been given a lot of medication so could not comprehend how serious this was.

After surgery, my husband and I were told that the tumour had been removed successfully and had been taken away to the laboratory. We had to wait ten days before the Surgeon Mr Pople came to speak to us with the results. Mr Pople told us that even though he had removed the tumour, it was a rare malignant tumour and he would be arranging for me to have Radiotherapy to make sure that any spores that might have got away were killed. He said that there would be at least six and a half weeks of treatment. We were told that the tumour was not something that was inherited or related to lifestyle, I was just unfortunate.

We did not understand most of what we were told and asked if there was someone who could explain everything to us. I was told there was only one person that could help, a Specialist Nurse called Toni Lawton, she had an office at the hospital. She usually only speaks with patients that have had a Brain Tumour but saw me because my cancer was usually associated with Brain Tumours in children. She was fantastic and explained everything from the Tumour I had to my care and treatment in and out of hospital. She told me that treatment consisted of thirty-one sessions of half an hour Radiotherapy to my head and spine, two intensive treatments to my spine only. I would be sent the appointments in about two weeks. I was in Frenchay Hospital for about three weeks and then allowed to go home.

At this stage, I seemed to be recovering well. But within a week of being home, I was rushed back to Frenchay because of acute pain in my spine, even though I was already on very strong pain killers, to be precise thirty-nine drugs a day. I was given another MRI scan and it was discovered that I had fluid on the spine. I was told that I would need to have this fluid drained so that it could be analysed. All I wanted to do was go home, I was exhausted and scared. The Registrar doctor told me if they did not get the fluid tested as soon as possible, I could die - well that was blunt but did the trick!. I stayed in hospital only long enough for the fluid to be tested. The Doctor was worried it might be Meningitis. It was negative; I had an infection and stayed in hospital one night then was given more medication before being allowed to go home. This was two weeks away from Christmas.

Toni Lawton arranged for a protective umbrella of professionals to help me through my journey. These people consisted of my GP, Macmillan nurse, District nurse, Social Services and my Oncologist from the Bristol Royal Infirmary, Dr Hopkins. My GP was notified that I was home and arranged for the district nurses to attend to me at home. The only problem was that no one knew what my care actually consisted of. Toni gave help and advice to my GP on the care needed. If it wasn't for Toni's help, I think my care could have been different. Because the cancer was rare and the problems I was having were unusual, no one seemed to know what to do for the best. I lost the feeling in my right leg and found I had become incontinent with my bladder and bowels. The rest of my body was very sensitive to touch and I suffered acute pain. All of this was before I had even started my Radiotherapy. I am not going to tell you my feelings at the moment as I will save them for the message board. All I will say is "It would be hard for you to imagine". My doctors not being able to explain this, was only the start of the journey.

I then had to attend four pre-assessment appointments to prepare for Radiotherapy, two for the head moulds, one for the spine mould and the last, the 'Simulator'. Radiotherapy started in January 2002, travelling to Bristol Royal Infirmary, 80 miles a day Monday to Friday in an ambulance for nearly seven weeks. The actual treatment was about twenty minutes a session but because I had the additional problems of not being able to walk and having no control of the lower part of my body, it worked out that I was there an hour at a time. I have already mentioned that I will share my feelings of these experiences on the message boards not now, as they remain deep inside me. My Oncologist used to joke with me that I had to be different from everyone else. This was because everything that was meant to happen from surgery to side effects from Radiotherapy and pain, I reacted differently. I was given possibilities on what should happen but all the negatives that could be thrown at me were.

My hospital transport and medication was free on the NHS, which was a help as finance was low. We had to pay for other things for example: incontinent pads, dressings etc. At this time you can only imagine what I was going through, let alone my family. During treatment I was cared for by family, nurses and home care.

After treatment, I was still very ill but the good news is that I regained the feeling in my lower body but never recovered properly. On top of all these emotions, I was learning to walk again, adjusting to permanent nerve pain and sensitivity down my right side. There were many times I wanted to give up, especially when trying to walk and ending up on the floor. It was the love of those around me that kept me going.

My Oncologist and GP were baffled with how to treat me as I was not responding to medication that I was given. In July 2002, my GP asked me to spend some time in our local hospice, St Margaret's Hospice, which is in Somerset. This would be as an in-patient for three weeks for them to help me with pain relief. I remember thinking that my GP was not telling me something, as I have always thought that you only go to die in a hospice, I was wrong. Of course there are patients that are terminally ill but the hospice also provides other cancer services. My experience in the hospice was one I will never forget, the care and consideration from staff and volunteers to all patients. After leaving the hospice as an in-patient, I went to the day centre at the Hospice once a week where I made special friends. I was still having physical problems and had a hospital car to take me and bring me home.

I was allocated a specialist nurse who used to visit me once a week for a chat and if I had any worries, they would speak to my GP on my behalf. I would also like to mention that my GP Dr Alison Goldie from the East Quay Medical Centre, Bridgwater was patient, supportive and caring throughout my illness. She encountered as many frustrations as me along the way but would seek out any information that would help to make life easier for me.

I have shared with you some of the negative experiences, now I want to share the positive. Against the odds, I am still alive and here to tell my story.  I was told by my Oncologist that if I carried on and ignored the GP at the surgery at the beginning, I would be dead now. This experience I shared with my family and special friends that never gave up on me. They believed in me and I was determined not to let them down. I have had clear MRI scans for four years and look forward to a bright future. I have been told by my Oncologist that they believe that the only reason that I have been left with physical problems, is that maybe between surgery and treatment that another tumour could have been growing, but of course we will never know the truth. I am partly disabled; life will never be the same. But because I have been given a second chance on life, I will keep smiling and battling on. Though I travelled on a physical and emotional rollercoaster, I know that I am one of the lucky ones...