I’m from a family where we say ‘feck you’ to cancer

“I had to sit my parents down when I told them… I said, ‘I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that I have breast cancer… and my dad was like, ‘okay but what’s the good news?’ I said, ‘it’s curable!’ He was very like me, always positive about everything. Not like my mom! I said to her, ‘I don’t want to see tears! I’ll be okay, nothing to worry about!’ And she was like, ‘okay, but can I just cry a little anyway?’ They were both just fantastic. I used to stay with them during treatment because they were closer to the hospital. I would hear them talking all night. They were always talking. 55 years together and still had something to talk about. Dad was in his late 70s but he would take me to chemo and for my mastectomy and all my doctor visits. Poor dad, he had to see so many nipples and hear so many things about breasts… but he was always there with me, being calm. He would just give me a hug and say: ‘Good luck, sweetheart!’ And that was all I needed. He used to read my blog and he came to my big cancer party and saw me throwing off my wig and all… I’m sure he would have loved to see me organising the largest skinny dip that made it to the Guinness World Records this year. But then, two years ago he got cancer as well. He wasn’t as lucky as I was but he lived way over the predicted time. When he was in Hospice sometimes he was in and out of consciousness and could only get around in a wheelchair, but he organised to get flowers for my mother for Valentine’s day. My brother picked him up and he made his way out of the car up to my mom’s and knocked on the door with 24 red roses in his hand. That was the sort of man he was, you know? I’m proud to say I’m from a family where we don’t let cancer mess with our good mood… I’m from a family where we say ‘feck you’ to cancer.”