Mother, Grandmother, Sister, Auntie, Friend.

It's heartbreaking isn't it? Cancer I mean. It rips through lives and families with no remorse. Some, very few and the very lucky, fight through it. Kicks it's butt well and truly- and survive! Coming out the other side with the support of the Consultants, nurses, family and friends. It's called 'remission' to begin with. And then after months, sometimes years, youre free. Free of the disease that almost took that loved one, that friend, that mother away. Unfortunately that's not the story we're telling. It started in September 2017. Heather, a loving mother, a beautiful friend, a wonderful Nanny, sister and auntie. Liked by many, loved by more. Heather returned from holiday, little did she know that that would be the beginning of what would become her end. September 2017- Heather had gone for a routine check up after feeling unwell. In fact it was just bloating, like you feel when you've eaten too much. After a scan on her stomach, she was sent for a CA125 blood test whilst being referred to a specialist by her GP. The blood results came in just a few days before her consultant appointment. At this point, there was nothing to worry about. Possibly IBS, constipation, things that now we wished for it to be. The CA125 test was elevated. This is a blood test done when GP's want to rule out ovarian cancer. Just the news of this was devastating. The thought that you MIGHT have cancer. The worry of waiting for that appointment. The exhaustion you're driven into after sleepless nights of painful thoughts. The appointment day then came. Heather was due to see a specialist to arrange further testing to see what the bloating in her stomach was. Family beside her, they were taken into a corner room of a very busy clinic. All the patients waiting looked... well, normal. Men and women, waiting. Just waiting for an appointment like anyone would be. The room was small. Like a nurses room in a doctors surgery. A hospital bed. Some scales. A sink. Not enough chairs for everyone to sit so the specialist perched on the bed. After a brief chat, that was it. It was like the words didn't come out of his mouth properly. They just floated in the air, silently. Sucking all the life out of the room within that moment. And just like that you're whole world shatters around you and despair sets in. The tears come, the shock sets in and you're shaking. Not quite believing what's been said but knowing in your heart you've been told you have cancer. The next twelve months are long, gruelling and mentally draining. Two different chemotherapy's, surgery and tablets beyond belief. The side effects. The hair loss, the cramps, the sickness, the weakness. The emotions you feel. Crying all of the time and wanting it to be over. But fighting all of the way, knowing and hoping it's what has to be done. This is the torture I have to pay for to have my life. But it didn't work. It wasn't ovarian cancer so the first chemotherapy was pointless. The second doing so little and the surgery just buying Heather some time. And then that last appointment with your consultant, sitting, crying, fearful for no future. There's nothing more they can do for you. No more treatment. And the advice? The advice they leave you with? 'Do what you want with you life now, Heather. Do the things youve wanted to do'. Of course, we're November 2018 now, so very close to Christmas. The consultants are only hopeful Heather will make it to that. Hoping she can spend one last Christmas with her loved ones before the cancer destroys her and shatters the life's of her loved ones. Weeks now, months at a push. Ofcourse everyone is hopeful for the longest time. We're asking for anything, just something you can spare, to make December 2018 the most memorable Christmas for Heather. A loving mother, a wonderful nanny, sister and auntie. Any donations received exceeding the goal will be put towards funeral arrangements. Thank you for taking the time to read, share and donate. Thank you to everyone for your generosity! We're are shocked and eternally grateful to have exceeded the goal so massively. Sadly my beautiful strong and amazing mother passed away. The remaining money will now be put towards funeral costs.