Debra Jayne Stephen

Retired senior nurse, enjoying family time

[J Stewart @triffic_stuff_]

🚨 BLAIR BOMBSHELL: SCRAP NET ZERO NOW! “THERE’S NO LOGIC TO IT!” 🔥

Tony Blair Demands Starmer Scrap Milibands Mad Expensive Green Agenda Immediately‼️

Blair has just shredded mad Miliband and the entire net zero agenda. There’s zero logic to it!

Asked directly for total clarity: “For total clarity, are you advising Keir Starmer to rip up Ed Milibands green energy targets?”

Blair bluntly replied: “Yes I am!”

He explained that the 3 biggest emitters in the world today are China, America and India. Together they “account for just over 50% of global emissions.”

All are pursuing cheap energy. They still do renewable energy. “China for example builds more renewable energy than the rest of the world put together.” “It just means that the lens from which they judge policy is cheap energy.”

He rightly points out Britain’s emissions are “under 1% of global emissions” so we can’t solve climate change.

And says he “doesnt understand the logic behind” imposing costs on businesses and consumers to pursue net zero when the rest of the world is not doing so.

He says again he doesnt understand why we’re shutting down North Sea oil and gas industry in circumstances where no other country in the world is doing that if “they’ve still got a requirement to import energy from oil and gas”.

It costs way too much and “is not the right priority!”

Net zero is not saving the planet. It is economic self-harm. Blair has just blown the entire agenda apart.

[Dan Walker @mrdanwalker]

I don’t know if you know but… it’s Prostate Cancer Awareness Month.

I have been reading about @chrishoy this week and he has inspired me to post this.

Cancer is not a nice word. It sends fear into most people and so many of us are touched by it either directly or indirectly.

Last July I had a prostate screening blood test at the Canon Medical Arena in Sheffield. My dad has had prostate cancer before and now it’s back. His experience has made me far more aware of the risks and the worries so visiting the @LivingCareGroup centre felt like £15 and 15 minutes well spent.

They had 200 appointments available - all subsidised by a local charity. I posted on my social media and spent much of the day reading through the thousands of comments.

There were so many people who were struggling to get an appointment with their doctor and they just wanted that level of reassurance that comes from a simple medical test.

There were hundreds of comments about the need for a national screening programme and many more were pointing to the fact that 1 in 8 men will get prostate cancer at some point in their lives.

One email stood out above everything else for me. I have read it quite a few times.

Dear Dan,
I would like to thank you so much for talking about your visit in Sheffield for an inexpensive PSA test.

My husband lost his paternal grandfather to prostrate cancer and his cousin has terminal prostrate cancer. Although my husband used to have tests, he hasn't over the last 10 years.

Your post prompted him to go along to Living Care and take the test. After a second PSA test, an ultrasound and an MRI scan, he has been diagnosed with prostrate cancer.

It was quite a shock, but had you not posted about it that day, I don't know when he would have got tested and the cancer may have been found, not just at a later stage, but at a catastrophically later stage, like his cousin.

Obviously, it's still a worry, but I’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the nudge you gave him, giving him a better chance of survival.
Yours, truly gratefully…

That for me is what Prostate Cancer Awareness Month is all about. It’s about helping each other. It’s about people like this lovely lady and her husband.
It’s about simple tests.
It’s about changing lives and saving lives.

@ProstateUK

[The Husky @Mr_Husky1]

The hardest part of cancer… wasn’t when I had it.

When I was in the middle of my own fight, I used to say something that surprised people

“Being the one with cancer is the easy part.”

And I meant it.

Because when you’re the one diagnosed, you go into survival mode. You show up. You sit in the chair. You lay on the table. You take the meds. You endure the side effects. You cry when you need to. And then one day… you ring the bell. 🔔

You have a job to do….survive.

But the people who love you?
They don’t get a job. They just have to watch.

They watch you lose your hair.
They watch your body change.
They watch you push through exhaustion and pain.
They Google things at 2am.
They sit in waiting rooms trying not to imagine worst-case scenarios.
They feel helpless in a way that is almost unbearable.

And now… after beating cancer myself… I had to become that person.

I had to be the daughter watching my dad fight like hell for over two years. I had to sit with hope and fear tangled together in my chest. I had to smile when I was scared. I had to prepare my heart for something I didn’t want to face.

And when cancer took him, it solidified something in me

The loved ones carry a different kind of weight.

The patient fights physically.
The family fights emotionally.
The patient feels pain in their body.
The family feels pain in their soul.

Cancer doesn’t just attack one person. It ripples through an entire family.

If you are walking beside someone in their fight I see you.
If you are the spouse, the parent, the child, the sibling I see you.
If you are holding it together for everyone else I see you.

The caregivers.
The prayer warriors.
The ones sitting quietly in hospital chairs.
The ones who would trade places in a heartbeat.

You are carrying more than anyone knows.

Cancer survivors ring bells.
But families endure the echo long after.

And I stand on this more than ever now
The loved ones suffer in ways that don’t always get acknowledged.

To anyone loving someone through cancer… your strength matters too. 🤍

Credit - ashlee Marie

[Crazy Vibes @CrazyVibes_1]

My name’s Daniel, I’m 45, and two weeks ago I learned something about my mother that I’m still ashamed I didn’t see sooner.
She’s 80, lives alone in the little tan house she’s been in for half a century. The one with the peeling shutters and the mailbox she still refuses to replace because “it works just fine.”
Last Wednesday, she called and said:
“Danny… I need help with my grocery list. Can you come? I think I’m forgetting things.”
My first instinct?
Annoyance.
I had deadlines.
Kids’ activities.
Bills on my desk.
A hundred things pulling me in every direction.
So I said, “Just tell me what you want. I’ll order it all online.”
But she was quiet for a long moment before whispering:
“I’d rather you come.”
So I did.
When I walked into her kitchen, three grocery bags were already sitting neatly on the counter.
“Mom… you already shopped,” I said, confused.
She waved her hand. “Those are just basics. I still need a few things.”
She opened her notebook — the same spiral-bound one she’s used for years — and handed it to me.
The list said:
• grapes
• paper towels
• coffee creamer
• company
And suddenly everything inside me went still.
She looked embarrassed, like a kid caught doing something wrong.
“I just… didn’t know how else to ask you to come,” she whispered. “You’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to bother you.”
That sentence —
those ten quiet words —
hit harder than anything I’ve felt in years.
My mom, the woman who worked two jobs and still made every school concert…
the woman who saved every drawing I ever made…
the woman who put herself last for decades…
felt she had to pretend she needed groceries
just to feel worthy of a visit from her own son.
I hugged her so tightly she laughed and said, “Oh goodness, you’ll break me.”
We never went to the store.
Instead, we sat at the tiny kitchen table covered in little sunflower placemats she’s had since the ’90s.
We talked about the neighbor’s new dog.
About her tomato plant that refuses to grow.
About my dad, and how she still forgets he’s not coming through the door sometimes.
I stayed longer than I planned.
Drank terrible instant coffee.
Listened — really listened — the way she used to listen to me.
Before I left, she walked me to the door and held my hand for a moment longer than usual.
“You made my week, sweetheart,” she said softly.
Driving home, I couldn’t shake one thought:
How many times did she wait by the window, hoping my car would turn into the driveway?
How many afternoons did she tell herself,
“He’ll come when he has time,”
while the house echoed with loneliness I didn’t notice?
I realized that somewhere along the road of adulthood —
work, kids, obligations, noise —
I started treating her like an errand.
Someone to “fit in” when life allowed it.
But to her?
I was never an errand.
I was her world.
And all she wanted
was an hour with her son
in the home where she raised him.
💛 THE LESSON
Your parents won’t always tell you they’re lonely.
They won’t always say they miss you.
They won’t always ask directly.
Sometimes they’ll hide it behind a grocery list.
Behind a broken lamp.
Behind a request that doesn’t really need doing.
Go anyway.
Sit at their table.
Drink the bad coffee.
Let them tell you stories you’ve heard a thousand times.
Because one day the chair will be empty.
The notebook will be closed.
The porch light will be off.
And you’ll wish you had treated an ordinary Wednesday
like the priceless moment it truly was.

[Keira Connolly @keira_con]

Wise words

“My name’s Frank. I’m 64, a retired electrician.
Forty-two years I spent running wires through houses, fixing breakers, making sure people had light in their kitchens and heat in their winters. Never once did anyone ask me where I went to college. Mostly, they just wanted to know if I could get the power back on before their ice cream melted.

Last May, I was at my granddaughter Emily’s school career day. You know the drill — doctors, lawyers, a software guy in a slick suit talking about “scaling startups.” I was the only one there with a tool belt and work boots.

When it was my turn, I told the kids, “I don’t have a degree. I’ve never sat in a lecture hall. But I’ve wired schools, hospitals, and your principal’s house. And when the hospital generator failed during a snowstorm in ’98, I was the one in the basement with a flashlight, keeping the lights on for newborn babies upstairs.”

The kids leaned forward. They had questions — real ones. “How do you fix stuff in the dark?” “Do you make a lot of money?” “Do you ever get zapped?” (Yes, once, and it’ll curl your hair.)

When the bell rang, one boy hung back. Small kid, freckles, hoodie too big for him. He mumbled, “My uncle’s a plumber. People laugh at him ’cause he didn’t finish high school. But… he’s the only one in the family who can fix anything.”

I looked that boy in the eye and said, “Kid, your uncle’s a hero. When your toilet overflows at midnight, Harvard ain’t sending anyone. A plumber is.”

Here’s the thing nobody told me when I was young — the world doesn’t run without tradespeople. You can have all the engineers you want, but if nobody builds the house, wires the power, or lays the pipes, those blueprints just sit in a drawer.

We’ve made it sound like trades are what you do if you can’t go to college, instead of a path you choose because you like working with your hands, solving problems, and seeing your work stand solid for decades.

Four years after high school, some kids walk away with diplomas. Others walk away with zero debt, a union card, and a skill they can take anywhere in the world. And guess what? When your furnace dies in January, it’s not the diploma that saves you.

A few weeks ago, that same freckled kid’s mom stopped me at the grocery store. She said, “You probably don’t remember, but you told my son trades are important. He’s shadowing his uncle this summer. First time I’ve seen him excited about anything in years.”

That’s the part we forget — for some kids, knowing their path is respected changes everything. It’s not about “just” fixing wires or pipes. It’s about pride. Purpose. The kind that sticks with you long after the job’s done.

So next time you meet a teenager, don’t just ask, “Where are you going to college?” Ask, “What’s your plan?” And if they say, “I’m learning to weld,” or “I’m starting an apprenticeship,” smile big and say, “That’s fantastic. We’re going to need you.”

Because we will. More than ever. And when the lights go out, you’ll be glad they showed up.”

[Debra Jayne Stephen @DebraJayneStep1]

@fopminui 🙏 xx

[The Association of Ambulance Chief Executives @AACE_org]

Ensure every student leaves school with #CPR training: please support at https://t.co/NJcja2SLjX

[Charlotte's Battle Against Glioblastoma (BAG) @alexeades1]

My daughter wrote this after being diagnosed with a brain tumour in 2013.

Diagnosed July 2013 & died 24.2.16 aged 19 years 5 days.

Original diagnosis grade 3 Anaplastic Astrocytoma this mutated to a grade 4 glioblastoma

Imagine having to think about possibly dying, being in a situation where you don’t
know the outcome. It’s awful and as a teenage girl the whole situation was impacted
more by the media. Always seeing ‘beautiful’ girls in magazines, with long hair and
skinny waists. It was heart wrenching when I had to think about shaving my head
because I was going to lose my hair anyway. It was even worse when I put on two
stone due to taking steroids to stop the excruciating pain in my head. I felt horrible
and could not bear to look in the mirror. Every time I tried to put on my clothes, they
were too tight and would not button up. I felt so disgusting and ugly being left with a
bloated face and body. I hated my balding head which was patchy all over. My skin
was covered in spots and scars from various needles and operations. I was meant to be
starting college and making a new start for myself after my hard time at school.
Sitting in hospitals and taking 50 tablets a day was not normal, but I adjusted to it
being a part of my life. I remember receiving my disabled badge and trying to justify
in my head what I did to deserve this. I felt like a loner and did not have much contact
with the outside world. The only contact would occasionally be a trip into town.
Doing this was a struggle physically and mentally. I would get tired easily and could
not walk far because of this. I felt miserable seeing other girls living their lives and
being ‘normal’. I was jealous of others; I wanted hair, good health and normality.
The contents of my handbag a few months earlier were a hairbrush, chewing gum and
a mirror. The contents of my handbag now are a set of hearing aids, disabled badge,
medication and a pair of glasses.

Every month is brain cancer awareness month, not just in March.

This fight never stops. The big difference with our charity is that we self-fund. 100% of donations go directly to research at Charlotte's Lab, King's College Hospital, London. We have no salaries, overheads, advertising, or merchandise just the story of a brave and wonderful young woman shared through her YouTube channel. We pay our own expenses, including PayPal & PO Box fees, so your donations truly make a difference.If you’re thinking of donating to a charity, please consider us. 

If you can donate that would be amazing but otherwise a RT would be much appreciated.

https://t.co/Ox60Th4Z4V

[Charlotte's Battle Against Glioblastoma (BAG) @alexeades1]

Not in a million years did I imagine having an account dedicated to my daughter Charlotte who lost her life at 19 to a brain tumour.

Charlotte never stood a chance.
Her tumour was on her brain stem.
Original diagnosis: Grade 3 Anaplastic Astrocytoma with spinal diffusion at 16.
Her tumour was inoperable.

She received the standard 6 weeks of radiotherapy.
She received the standard chemotherapy—Temozolomide (first licensed in 1999, no advancements since).

On 28.7.2015, at just 18, her tumour mutated to grade 4 glioblastoma.

211 days later, on 24.2.2016 at 1:03 pm, Charlotte took her last breath.

She was 19 years & 5 days old.

Brain tumour research is desperately underfunded.

The big difference with our charity is that we self-fund. 100% of donations go directly to research at Charlotte's Lab, King's College Hospital, London.

We have no salaries, overheads, advertising, or merchandise, just the story of a brave and wonderful young woman shared through her YouTube channel.

We pay our own expenses, including PayPal & PO Box fees, so your donations really make a difference.
If you’re thinking of donating to a charity, please consider us.  If you can't donate a RT would help us so much.

https://t.co/Ox60Th4Z4V

[Danny @doglab]

It takes 3.2 seconds to RT and help find Farmer’s daughter Jenny Hall has gone missing in #Durham after going for a run
Jenny's last known location where her car was parked on the B6278 between Stanhope and Eggleston please call 116 000 with any information

[Charlotte's Battle Against Glioblastoma (BAG) @alexeades1]

This is the stark reality of a brain tumour. World cancer day 4.2.2016

Charlotte’s YouTube journey began on 14.6.2014 with these words: 'Hi, my name is Charlotte Eades. I’m just like any other typical teenage girl, but I have a twist. The twist is that I have cancer.'

Exactly 600 days later, on 4.2.2016, she filmed her last video. By then, she could no longer speak, so I did the voice over, ending with: 'Thank you so much for watching & supporting me. Bye.'

By that point, she could no longer walk, talk, or feed herself. That night was unknowingly her last at home. The next evening, she was rushed to hospital and placed in an induced coma. On 24.2.2016, at just 19 years and 5 days old, Charlotte passed away.

Since then, Charlotte’s BAG has worked tirelessly to raise awareness and fund research. The difference with our charity? We self-fund—meaning 100% of your donation goes directly to research at Charlotte's Lab, King's College Hospital, London.

No salaries.
No overheads.
No advertising.
No merchandise.
No gimmicks—just the story of an incredibly brave young woman.
We even cover our own expenses, including PayPal fees & PO Box fees.
Please RT with thanks
https://t.co/Ox60Th4Z4V

https://t.co/sdbA7GloM4

[Debra Jayne Stephen @DebraJayneStep1]

@DameAllans Good luck James!

[Charlotte's Battle Against Glioblastoma (BAG) @alexeades1]

A bauble for every Christmas without you.
Brain cancer took you aged 19 years 5 months
Nothing else to add.
Charlotte 18.2.97 - 24.2.2016

Please RT with thanks
The big difference with our charity is that we self fund. This means that 100% of your donation goes to research at Charlotte's Lab, King's College Hospital, London. We have no salaries, no overheads, no advertising, no merchandise. We have no quirky gimmicks to draw you in, just the story of a wonderful and incredibly brave young woman via her YouTube channel. We pay our own expenses, including PayPal fees & PO Box fees. If you want to donate to a charity, please think of us.
https://t.co/Ox60Th4Z4V

[Dr. Calum Miller @DrCalumMiller]

Any UK doctors or other healthcare professionals who are willing to be part of a movement resisting euthanasia, please comment here or inbox me

We will be doing everything we can to stop this over the next few months

Please like and RT even if you are not in healthcare!

[Yuan Yi Zhu @yuanyi_z]

Of all the great people fighting the Leadbeater bill and the slippery slope of death, @thelizcarr must rank as one of the most courageous.

[Tony Duffy @Existential_Doc]

What if the morphine doesn’t work
Are there no options to help the pain?

Well here are some of the other options we use in palliative care.

Oxycodone tablets, liquid, injection
Alfentanil injection, spray
Fentanyl patches, spray, lozenges
Methadone tablets, liquid

[Kathryn Mannix @drkathrynmannix]

This MPs letter illustrates misunderstanding & fear of ordinary dying.
All MPs should be required to attend detailed briefing on ordinary dying, pall care, the real but rare difficult deaths, & assessment of capacity, provided by non-campaigning experts.
https://t.co/4VNt6K5SEk

[Dr Rachel Clarke @doctor_oxford]

I simply cannot believe that the time available to MPs to debate a decision that could led to thousands of people receiving state assistance in ending their lives prematurely is… 5 hours.

Nor that an argument currently doing the rounds in parliament to win over uncertain MPs is that we “already have” outstanding palliative care in the UK, so nobody fails to receive the best care. We do not. We are so, so far from it. UK palliative care in 2024 is a desperately under-resourced Cinderella service and this is causing untold avoidable suffering for patients who sometimes long to end their lives because WE failed to fund the care that might make life still worth living.

Fix that first - please - then talk about assisted dying.

Please don’t ignore or disbelieve what those of us who work in palliative care witness daily.

[Debra Jayne Stephen @DebraJayneStep1]

@BottProf I so agree with you Colin