Page 119 - She's One Crazy Lady!

“Exactly! Well, that’s what it’s like with the lump that’s appeared in my breast...”
“And if you don’t have it taken out the rest of you will go bad!” They’d got it!
“Oh, you’ll be alright then – have it taken out.”
A very simple explanation that seemed to pacify them – and me.
Today, such an explanation would probably be more detailed and a involve a different vocabulary. Today we would talk about the genetic information within our bodies being different from anyone else’s; a code our bodies follow that must allow for faults, or mutations, mutations that can cause cells to grow out of control and build up in time as we age, setting a cell on the path to cancer. Today, there are many, many new encouraging scientific advancements to diagnose and treat breast cancer with much more understanding of the disease, offering better outcomes and targeted drugs to treat the varying forms that breast cancer presents itself. I still like my simple strawberry analogy!
Walking them along to the hall for lunch, a young boy, John (7) from Julie’s class, hands in pockets, casually sauntered by and said, very seriously,
“I hope God takes this cancer away from you Miss Hooper.” He moved on. Julie must have had told her children.
“So do I John, so do I.” From the voices of babes!
Over the following 10 years plus John was to write to me on a very regular basis and at the end of every letter he wrote: “Don’t worry, be happy!”
John, who was a very intelligent boy, received extra help with his work and wellbeing whilst at Highfields. He later graduated from university with a First Class Honours Degree. Early in 2022 I was to meet up with John (now 29) and his Dad to gift him his portraits and to catch up – John had made me aware that his darling Mum, had sadly died, from Covid. John was now intent on going into teaching – to concentrate on his first love – drama. I made sure to give him a lot of encouragement, sensing he would make an excellent teacher. He also gave me much encouragement – and did so for many years – to get my book done, even writing his own contribution after I had left Highfields.
John’s Mum, Denise, and her lovely family were very supportive throughout my treatment and beyond and she was one of the many, many parents who contacted me regularly and came to see me several times in hospital. Both she and her husband, Derrick, supported the charity by organising fundraising events, with Derrick making a direct debit donation every month, for many years, from his salary.
During the days after I was diagnosed, having told
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