The Fight Of Our Lives

Debi Griffin was devastated when her mum’s cancer returned

- Fiona Kinloch, Lucy Bryant

Everyone thinks their mum is the best and I’m certainly no exception. My mum, Heather, 64, and I have always been so close. From her helping me deal with teenage hormones, first boyfriends and exams, to helping organise my wedding and being brutally honest about what childbirth is really like, she’s been there with me through whatever life has thrown at me. But in 2017,I needed her more than ever – and she needed me, too.

Mum’s first brush with breast cancer was back in August 2007 after a routine mammogram. Despite the devastating news, Mum continued to put those around her first, never wanting to be a burden. With the doctor’s agreement, she even postponed treatment by two weeks, until after my wedding to Brett that September, so she wasn’t suffering the horrible side-effects on our special day.

She had radiotherapy every day for 15 days, and although I could see how utterly exhausted she was, not once did she complain. She refused to let cancer stop her doing anything differently.

She remained working full-time as a secretary and continued with grandma duties to my kids Charlotte, then five, and Josh, three, having them over for sleepovers and taking them out. Then in March 2008, Mum was given the all-clear.

‘It’s over now,’ she said falling into my arms after we heard the news. Life went back to normal, I’d see Mum almost daily and, apart from yearly and three-yearly mammograms, we put

Mum’s cancer hell behind us.

But then, in January 2017, after one of those routine mammograms, Mum was summoned back to hospital. I clutched her hand in the consulting room as the nurse explained the breast cancer had come back. I burst into tears, my head buried in my hands, yet Mum seemed unfazed.

‘Did you hear what I said, Heather?’ the nurse asked.