Shine takes cancer support to Yorkshire!

Linz was diagnosed with Triple Negative Breast Cancer and the BRCA1 gene just after turning 38, and she’s passionate about bringing people together to help deal with cancer. In this post, she writes about her first Shine event: a weekend away with Shine North East in the Yorkshire Dales.


The weekend was full of promise: I was coming to this event as a newbie, all the way from Edinburgh to gate-crash a weekend of ‘folk like me’. The setting was a lovely holiday home called Springwood Cottage near Huddersfield, and the background music was the soundtrack from ‘The Greatest Showman’. The idea was simply for a group of young adults with cancer to share a cottage for the weekend: no plans, no itinerary, no rules, and no barriers.  All just pitch up, pitch in, and enjoy ourselves.

I had come across Shine Cancer Support only a few months previously, just by doing a search on Facebook.  I am a member of various cancer support groups on Facebook and Twitter, but aside from a lovely lunch ‘tweet up’ in Manchester a few months back, I had not actually engaged much with other people going through cancer treatment. There certainly isn’t much for us ‘in-betweeners’ aged 20-50. Talking to people online is great but meeting up in person is so much better! In total there were going to be 17 of us on this weekend – all walks of life, all different types of cancer and associated treatments.  All in all, a lovely bunch of people who are much more than the ‘cancer tag’!

After getting there, two of us went for coffee and cake as we waited to pick up some of the group from the train station five minutes away.  Finding the train station was easy but finding my way back to the cottage each time meant a little detour… oops!

Friday evening was a relaxed affair, introducing ourselves and getting ourselves set up in the rooms.  The location itself was amazing as we had our own hot tub, as well as a rooftop patio!  For some, the thought of sharing rooms with strangers was possibly a little odd at first, but actually it all turned out grand. Dinner was spectacular, and after a few drinks of own choosing we all attempted the icebreaker of making ourselves a cardboard crown with various craft materials.  Some people are exceptionally talented in this area. I am clearly not!

It was really interesting to talk to people about what cancer they have/had, and the treatment plans and side effects/consequences of treatment they experienced.  It was also good to hear about their personal lives, both pre- and post-diagnosis.  To be quite frank, I am at that stage where I question everything about my life, who I am, and what I want to do now. For a little while I had become quite insular and cancer was all I could focus on.  But even more important for me over this weekend was actually to see and hear how other people live their lives post-diagnosis and treatment, in terms of families, holidays, adventures, and work.  dsc_0584.jpg

Given that this was very much a weekend where everyone pitched in and helped, it was almost like an episode of ‘Big Brother’ without the cameras…! In a non-threatening, non-competitive way, of course!

Saturday was relaxing, too. First off, two of the women produced a spectacular cooked breakfast. I honestly don’t think I have eaten so well anywhere!

Afterwards, a beauty therapist visited to offer sessions ranging from facials and massages, through to reflexology, for those who were interested.  Some of us decided to take a few cars over to the nearby town of Holmfirth, West Yorkshire, which is where ‘Last of the Summer Wine’ was filmed.  There was actually a folk festival on that day, and it was great to soak up the atmosphere and find a wee secluded beer garden, then search for ice cream. Other people in the group opted to walk around and soak up the wonderful weather that we had that weekend too.

Later that night, after another amazing dinner, most of us sat down to watch Eurovision and play some games.  Many of us also took the opportunity to jump into the hot tub and let any lingering strains and tensions melt away…

Sunday morning saw another spectacular cooked breakfast before some of us took a gentle meandering walk up the road.  A Sunday roast completed the weekend for me, before I headed home into the sunset…

Overall, it was a great weekend, and I feel that I have made some new friends that actually get everything I have experienced and inspire me to get through the post-treatment slump. It was also not all about the cancer! We laughed and joked, and I even managed to use some of my professional skills to help others, too.

If you’re ever thinking about coming to an event like this one, then I would definitely recommend it!

I’d like to say a HUGE thank you to Shine North East network leader Rachel, who organised the whole weekend.  She’s a special and wonderful person who is spectacular and lovely and kind. Thank you for letting me come!  I know how much effort it takes to organise an event like this, and that makes both Rachel and Shine very special indeed.

Advertisements

Great Escape: reunited!

2018 Escapee Caroline shares her experience of our Great Escape Reunion, a one-off event celebrating five years of weekend retreats for young people with cancer.


I was lucky enough to be able to attend the 2018 Shine Great Escape (read my fellow Escapee Rosie’s blog about it here), and I was invited to the Great Escape Reunion almost as soon as I had accepted my place on the Escape itself!

It turns out that 2018 was a year worthy of celebration: the Great Escape that I attended was the fifth weekend away for young adults with cancer that Ceinwen Giles and Emma Willis had organised since Shine began. In March, Shine organised a reunion event in London, inviting all of those who had attended a Great Escape to come along and celebrate the anniversary with them.

IMG-20180317-WA0009

Some of the 2018 Great Escape attendees reunited!

The afternoon began with tea, cake, and conversation, which gave us time to chat with our fellow Escapees and meet those who had attended in previous years. While it was a great opportunity for many to catch up, for the 2018 attendees it was also a chance to get to know each other better. Although we all feel a strong bond with our ‘tribe’ as a result of the Escape, there are still so many things that we want to learn!

Once we’d warmed up and helped ourselves to a piece of flapjack or four, the Reunion continued in true Escape style – with Sharpies, crafts, and collages. Although some Escapees remain defiantly unartistic, everyone took part in creating collages to show how the experience had affected their lives. It was amazing to see how much one weekend away could change our perceptions about cancer and our attitudes towards living with the disease.

After the activities came a potted history of the Shine and the Escape from Ceinwen and Emma, including stories about how they’d manage to convince friends and friends of friends to sign up to voluntarily spend a weekend at a hotel in Bournemouth with a group of young people with cancer – hardly the most glamorous of mini-break ideas! We are all overwhelming grateful that they pulled it off, as the next portion of the afternoon showed. Representatives from each Great Escape gave short presentations about their experiences and gave us an insight into what everyone had been doing since their Escape. This part of the afternoon was emotional for many reasons. It was fantastic to see photos of weddings, exciting trips abroad, and new babies, which gave us optimism for our futures beyond cancer. However, the moving tributes to those who have sadly passed away since attending their Escape reminded us all about what it is that brings us together. After the presentations, we raised a glass not only to Ceinwen, Emma, and the volunteers, but also to the wonderful Escapees who are no longer with us.

And as for the 2018 Escapees? Although we weren’t convinced that we would have much to report after only a few weeks apart, we had managed to achieve a surprising amount: a few new jobs, several dates, a couple of people returning to work, and some meet-ups already in the calendar for later in the year. And then, of course, the few thousand (!) WhatsApp messages we had exchanged with each other since leaving Bournemouth. It seems that a Shine Great Escape isn’t a Shine Great Escape without a very active WhatsApp or Facebook group!

Blog 4

Fond memories of the Escape…

The reunion came to a close with a group discussion about the future of Shine, and how we could ensure that more young people are able to benefit from everything the charity has to offer, then a delicious buffet.

 

I’ll leave you with a few comments about the day from my fellow 2018 Escapees. Thank you again for everything Shine, and all the volunteers who have contributed to the Great Escape!

‘It was great to chat to previous attendees and see that they are still benefiting from the Escape and have gone on to make good progress. Also, it was nice to see that they are still good friends with each other years later. The Escape has a long-lasting impact and doesn’t just fizzle out after leaving the bubble of The Grove.’

‘I get really tearful thinking about our Escape and the Reunion. I feel like I belong with you guys, where I don’t belong anywhere else.’

‘[Our group photo from the Reunion is] my work screensaver!! I look really happy, which makes me smile, and when I have a tough day it reminds me that we’re in this together.’

What is a ‘Great Escape’? To learn more about the Shine Great Escape and how you could apply to take part, check out our website here

Lost and found: Friendship after cancer

Life isn’t easy if you’re a young adult with cancer.  So many things – work, family, energy levels and that sense of invincibility – change all at once. One thing that most of us would like to think is that our friends (especially the close ones) will stand by and step up when they’re needed.

But what if you’ve got cancer and a friend ghosts you? In our latest blog, one of our Shine members, Catherine, shares a letter she wrote to a someone who was a close friend before cancer, but who disappeared once her diagnosis was confirmed. Take a read, share, and do let us know what you think.


Dear person who was my friend before cancer,

We were so close. Together we drank tea and wine, exercised, and chewed the cud over life, the universe and everything. We knew each other’s secrets. We cried together. So naturally you were one of the first people I told about my diagnosis seven months ago.

Since then, you’ve pretty much disappeared. Daily messaging has morphed silently into monthly texts, and the message is always prefaced with “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, I’ve been so busy….”. You might ask how I am, you might not. Occasionally you’ve suggested you might have time next month – but you never follow up and actually book something in. On the few occasions I’ve asked directly for help, you’ve been too busy.

friendships after cancer

Catherine with her two children

You once said to me “I know I haven’t been around much, but this is a long road, and when your help has tailed off, I’ll be there”. For months I believed this. I imagined you were waiting until you had time to do something ‘big’, something equal to the size of the heap of shite I am going through at the moment. I know you’re a perfectionist and I thought maybe you were just holding on until you found the time to deliver the perfect care package. But here I am, almost at the end of chemo, and I’m still waiting.

Other people have stepped up incredibly. People I hardly know have brought us food, taken the kids out, sent messages, diarised my chemo dates so they always remember to send a note. These are people with jobs and/or one, two or three kids, they are chief executives, teachers, full-time mums, opera singers…. busy people…. but somehow they have found time. My overwhelming feeling is one of gratitude and humility. But still, there’s you.

Actually, I don’t need you to have done any specific thing. I’ve had so much support it’s been amazing ,and most gaps have been filled. During the low moments of chemo, when I’ve thought about telling you how I feel, I imagine you asking what you should have done, and the things that pop into my mind sound so petty – why didn’t you just pop round for a cup of tea? Ask me if I needed anything when you went shopping? Waited for me on the school run so we could walk together? But it isn’t the absence of any of these things in particular. It’s the absence of all of them. It’s that I thought that you cared, that you would be there, that you had my back, and it makes me so sad that you don’t.

I’ve tried so hard to understand why; many people have suggested that perhaps my diagnosis is just too scary for you to deal with. But I know you and you don’t shy away from tough situations; if anything you seek them out. Now I’ve given up trying to work it out. It doesn’t matter. I won’t be able to trust you again, and I don’t blame cancer for that. This dumb disease may have created the situation but you chose how to respond to it. You chose to let your addiction to being busy dictate your priorities and to leave me at the bottom of the list when I needed you most. These days I struggle to even read your Facebook updates – it’s an important part of your life and you use it a lot – because it feels like out of the half hour you choose to spend on there each day, you could have taken 30 seconds out to drop me a text.

Other people, those who have rallied round, will be new friends and I rejoice in their love and support. But I’m still sad and angry that you chose to leave me. I hope if I’ve learned one thing from having cancer, it will be how not to make the same mistake.

Catherine

Catherine says she “rants a lot on Facebook to my poor captive audience but this is my first blog!” (we thank her for sharing it!).  Catherine is a secondary school teacher who was diagnosed with stage 3 bowel cancer. She has two children. 

If you’d like to chat to other young adults with cancer, why not join a Shine Network meet up, or our private Facebook group? For more info on Shine, visit our website