I Have never thought about Quitting, because I know who is watching.

I’m Amy I'm a mum to three beautiful daughters, a stepmum a devoted wife to Jay, a sister, daughter, with family and friends always at the centre of my life. Above all else, I'm a mum fighting to be here for my girls, Jay and those at the centre of my world.

In 2021, when my youngest daughter had just turned one, I was diagnosed with Stage 3, Grade 3 Triple Negative Breast Cancer one of the most aggressive and hardest-to-treat forms of breast cancer. I underwent of intensive chemotherapy regime and a double mastectomy with the hope of a cure.

For a short time, we celebrated hearing the words "no evidence of disease." We believed we could finally begin to move forward with our lives and being grateful to live every single day.

In 2024, I found a lump in my neck.

The news that followed changed our lives forever. My cancer had returned and had spread to my lymph nodes and chest. I was now living with Stage 4 metastatic Triple Negative Breast Cancer.

Unlike many other breast cancers, Triple Negative Breast Cancer has no specific drivers meaning many of the treatments available to other breast cancer patients simply don't work. It accounts for around 15% of breast cancer diagnoses but is one of the most aggressive forms of the disease, with fewer treatment options and a much higher risk of spreading.

Since my metastatic diagnosis, I have faced one treatment after another. After immunotherapy stopped working, I moved onto a targeted antibody-drug conjugate (ADC) therapy, which gave us renewed hope. The treatment worked so well that surgeons were able to remove the last visible area of cancer, allowing me to take a short break from treatment and make precious memories with my girls and Jay.

Sadly, the cancer returned.

Not long afterwards in October 2025, I began feeling unwell. Although I had very few symptoms, I instinctively felt something wasn't right. A brain scan confirmed three brain tumours. Within days, I underwent emergency brain surgery to remove the largest tumour, followed by targeted radiotherapy to the remaining tumours.

Despite everything, I recovered remarkably well and was able to restart treatment.

Earlier this year, scans showed the cancer had progressed again, this time to my liver and the lymph nodes in my stomach. I was given no choice but to explore with hope of a clinical trial or commence palliative Chemotherapy. I was initially rejected from the only trial suitable which was devastating. However, I felt like a miracle had happened over night and 24 hours later I received a call to say that an alternative trail had opened up to which I met the criteria at The Christies Hospital in Manchester, giving us renewed hope once again.

After 8 weeks of waiting for the trial to start due to the intense screening, just two weeks before I was due to start the trial, I suffered a sudden unresponsive and unexpected seizure while out with my children in the park. This alone was enough to turn our world upside down as I’ve never had a seizure before. Because of the strict eligibility criteria, I was sadly no longer able to move forward with the trail as planned.

Eight weeks of waiting for the trial to start without treatment, the cancer continued to progress.

More recently, I suffered a second seizure whilst at home with Jay and the girls. We received the devastating news that I had acute inflammation around the smaller tumour that controls the right side of my body. The seizure has left me with weakness and reduced function down the right-hand side of my body, dramatically changing my life overnight.

We also received the news that scans showed a new brain tumour had developed in a different area of my brain.

For nearly six years, we have never allowed cancer to define our family. We made a conscious decision that cancer would not consume us. We chose to create memories, celebrate every milestone and keep life as normal as possible for our girls. I have always been fiercely protective of them, determined that they would continue to enjoy their childhood without constantly living under the shadow of my diagnosis.

These last few weeks have changed that.

For the first time since this journey began, my daughters have seen their mum admitted to hospital. They have had to spend time away from me, watched me become physically weaker and are beginning to understand the reality of my illness. Seeing my girls face fears and emotions that no child should ever have to experience is the most heartbreaking parts of this journey. As a mother, it is devastating to watch and incredibly difficult knowing there is so little I can do to protect them from it.

Today, I find myself in a position where the clinical trials currently available within the UK for triple negative breast cancer are in the too early stages for me to be eligible for due to the strict inclusion criteria, but there is always hope. However, time is against me. I remain hopeful that as research and trials are developing into later stages it will bring new treatment possibilities. Right now, time is more precious than ever, and I urgently need treatment that can continue to control both the disease in my body and the disease in my brain.

One thing we do know is that my previous targeted treatment was helping to stabilise my brain disease. Newer-generation immunotherapies and targeted ADC treatments are able to cross the blood-brain barrier, something many conventional treatments cannot do, and they have already shown encouraging results for me up until today.

I have always been incredibly proud of how we have managed as a family, to normalise something that is completely not normal and I am now in a position that I need to ask for help.

With the incredible support already shown by our family, friends and local community, we are hoping to raise enough money to give me the best possible chance of accessing treatments that are currently unavailable to me through the NHS. This includes exploring private treatment options within the UK, as well as accessing approved treatments available in Europe and the United States.

The financial reality of accessing these treatments is overwhelming and personally feel unrealistic. Alongside the cost of the drugs themselves for the body and targeted treatment for the brain there are consultations, travel, accommodation, ongoing monitoring and specialist care to consider. Our fundraising goal is £200,000. It is an amount I never imagined writing, but it represents the opportunity to continue fighting for more time.

More time to watch my daughters grow up. More time with my husband, Jay. More birthdays, bedtime stories and the ordinary moments that become priceless when your future is uncertain.

I know there are no guarantees. But what I do know is that I will never stop fighting while there is still hope.

If you are able to donate, no matter how small, share my story to reach as far and wide as possible, or support the fundraising events taking place within our community, you are giving me something that is beyond measure, the opportunity to keep living.

Thank you will never feel like enough. Every donation, every share, every kind message and every person standing beside my family means more than words can ever express.

And as I always end with the saying…

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard any more before you decide to be happy”

Amy

xXx

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