I was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukaemia (AML) the day after my birthday. One week earlier I felt completely fine, but then I suddenly became extremely fatigued. I couldn’t walk upstairs without my heart racing or even move around the house without feeling breathless. I ended up in A&E, and within hours, my whole world turned upside down. Being told I had leukaemia was terrifying - but the hardest part was having to tell my sons.
I was told I’d need to spend at least six months in hospital having chemotherapy, and that because I was in the intermediate risk group, I may also need a stem cell transplant. It was a lot to take in. But things got worse. After the first cycle of chemo, I was told I had refractory AML, meaning it wasn’t responding to treatment. I also had two genetic mutations, putting me in the high risk category. I needed even stronger chemotherapy, and there were no guarantees it would work.
Even after my second cycle, I still wasn’t in remission. I began to lose hope. The fear was overwhelming. I felt trapped in my hospital room, completely isolated. I caught serious infections and I was being kept alive by daily platelet and blood transfusions and strong IV antibiotics. It was relentless.
It took seven months of chemotherapy and hospital isolation before I finally heard the words I’d been desperate to hear: no leukaemia was detectable in my bone marrow. I was over the moon but the joy was short-lived. Because of how aggressive and high risk my disease was, I was told it would come back quickly and that my only real chance of surviving would be to have a stem cell transplant. Without one, I was unlikely to live more than six months.
In November, we thought we’d found a match - a 10/10 donor - and I was due to go in for transplant in early December. But just days before, that donor fell through. I was devastated. After everything I’d been through, it felt like the rug had been pulled from under me again and I began to lose hope. Thankfully, a few weeks later, another donor was found. I was able to spend Christmas at home with my family, which meant the world to me after so much time apart. Then, on 27th December, I was admitted to Southampton Hospital to begin the conditioning chemo ahead of transplant. I was terrified, but the NHS staff were incredible - every single person who came into my room helped me feel safe.
The transplant itself happened in February 2025. It was a surreal but peaceful experience. Then came the wait for the stem cells to engraft and little by little, I began to feel better. In April 2025, nearly a full year on from diagnosis, I was discharged home, just in time to celebrate my 57th birthday with my family. It felt like I’d come full circle.
Since then, I’ve been slowly recovering and regaining my strength, both physically and emotionally. Since my transplant, I’ve been on a mission to make my second chance at life count. I created a bucket list journal called One Brave Life, with all royalties going to Anthony Nolan, and in September I decided to set myself challenge - as part of Anthony Nolan’s Life Saver Walk – to push myself even further.
My 'seven hills' challenge
To mark World Marrow Donor Day last month I decided to climb seven of Hampshire’s most iconic hills in seven days to celebrate seven months of life since my stem cell transplant. The challenge was inspired by one of my bucket list goals: to one day be able to climb a mountain again. Climbing seven hills in seven days, after not even being able to climb the stairs last year, felt like the perfect way to celebrate survival, honour my donor, and raise awareness for those still waiting.
Over the course of seven days, I tackled: St Catherine’s Hill, Watership Down, Beacon Hill, Old Winchester Hill, Magdalen Hill Down, Farley Mount, Butser Hill (Finale). Totals: 36.11 km walked, 937m climbed, and 61,398 steps completed.
I was joined throughout the week by a group of incredible friends and family, who supported me every step of the way. I couldn’t have done it without them. Every hill felt like a shared victory. It’s hard to believe that just a year ago I could barely make it up the stairs.
This challenge wasn’t just about me. It’s about celebrating the 1,400 lives saved every year through stem cell transplants, giving hope to those still waiting for their perfect match, and remembering those who sadly never found theirs. I raised over £1,000 for Anthony Nolan and shared my story in the press – I'm so passionate about raising awareness of the stem cell register. You never know who you might be able to save - someone like me, someone’s mum, someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, or someone’s friend.
Every step I took was a thank you to my donor. I’m so grateful for the second chance at life that I’ve been given, and I know I owe that to my incredible donor - a stranger who signed up to the register and said yes. Their selfless decision saved my life, and I’ll never stop being thankful.