In 2019 it became my reality when I was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer, Ewing's Sarcoma. Being in the uterus my case was extremely rare and despite having people rallying around me, I felt so alone and then the Covid pandemic hit, and that isolation became something else entirely. I was to embark on a 9 month treatment programme and it was to start within two weeks, I had a young child to care for and a wedding booked, I was devastated.
Cancer takes a lot from you. Your confidence, the certainty, your control and sometimes even your sense of who you are. There is the diagnosis, the treatment, the appointments and the uncertainty of not knowing what comes next. But there is also everything that happens around it. The things you worry about that have nothing to do with your own treatment. I worried about my child, my family, how much they understand and how much they don't and what the future would look like, all while a global pandemic meant the usual ways people would have rallied round weren't there in the same way.
The treatment for Ewing’s Sarcoma was gruelling. I endured 11 rounds of chemotherapy, a full hysterectomy and 28 sessions of radiotherapy, alongside countless side effects, hospital admissions, blood transfusions and four battles with neutropenic sepsis. But none of it compared to being away from my young daughter for weeks at a time. She was watching me through it all and knowing she needed me gave me the strength to keep fighting.
A reminder that we weren't facing cancer alone
My daughter was three at the time, so as well as dealing with a diagnosis most people had never even heard of, our family was also living through the uncertainty of COVID-19 and we were juggling cancer with a toddler.
That's when the Chris Aked Foundation stepped in. The foundation was born from a family's own experience of cancer. Chris Aked was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer in 2017, when his daughter was just 11 weeks old. While caring for Chris, his wife Kirsty saw firsthand how little support there was for children while a parent was going through cancer treatment. After Chris sadly died, that experience became the inspiration for the foundation: to give children the support, normality and happy memories they need during an incredibly difficult time.
The people behind the foundation showed up when we needed them most. That's what charities do. They step into people's stories at the moment those stories become hardest to tell.
At the time I was sharing my cancer story online and Kirsty got in touch asking if they could help by sending my daughter some activity packs via a subscription that the charity would fund. For my daughter, normal toddler life had changed, nursery, seeing friends, going out and simply having things to look forward to were all suddenly different and so I happily agreed.
I remember the parcels from the Chris Aked Foundation arriving. They weren't just something to keep her occupied. They gave her something to look forward to. Something that was just for her, at a time when so much of our family life revolved around hospitals, treatment and uncertainty.
I remember the excitement on her face as she opened them. And as a parent, I remember how much it meant to see her excited about something, and for that moment, I could forget I was ill.
It might sound like a small thing, but when you're going through cancer, the small things don't always feel small.
MAKING HAPPY MEMORIES AFTER A DIFFICULT CHAPTER
When my treatment eventually ended in 2020, life was slowly beginning to move forwards again. The foundation also gave us a memory making day out at Whipsnade Zoo.
After everything we'd been through, cancer, treatment and a period when the whole world felt so uncertain, having something to look forward to meant even more. It gave us a chance to get out, spend time together and for a little while, just be a normal family. No appointments, no treatment and no worrying about what came next. The financial burden of cancer treatment and only my husband working also meant that days out like this would be hard to fund, but having it donated to us by charity removed that burden.
I think that's the thing about kindness. You don't always realise the impact of something while you're receiving it. Sometimes that's what charity looks like. Not grand gestures. Not life-changing sums of money. Just a reminder that when life becomes difficult, you're not facing it alone.
At the time, I didn't think much about how those moments were made possible. Now I do. Behind every parcel, every experience and every act of support is a charity working hard to make a difference. There are people raising funds, volunteers giving their time, and supporters making donations so that families like mine can receive help when they need it most.
The Chris Aked Foundation didn't just support us through a difficult chapter of our lives. They reminded us that kindness still exists, even in the hardest moments.
WHAT I'VE LEARNED ABOUT GIVING
That experience changed the way I see charities, and it's part of why I now work for one. I no longer think of them as organisations doing good things for other people, at a distance. I see the people behind them, the families they support and the moments they make possible.
Because somewhere today, another family is navigating a cancer diagnosis. They may not know it yet, but a small act of kindness could make all the difference, just as it did for us.
About the author
Michelle Logli
Michelle supports the team with all aspects of administration and manages some of our social media platforms. With a background in healthcare, Michelle has a passion for helping others.