Happily Retired ! Moved house 29 times - Husband served with RAF ! Settled in Ayrshire near the seaside ! Follower of oldest team in Scotland Kilmarnock FC!
#Oliverscampaign
MEDICAL NOTES BREACHED AGAIN.
I am utterly disgusted William hasn't even been buried & already his hospital notes have been inappropriately accessed by nosey individuals
@NHSEngland@andyburnham@YvetteCooperMP
STEP UP & DO SOMETHING
https://t.co/Q95X1y4cR6
People might wonder why, nearly thirteen years after losing Charlotte, I still carry on telling her story. Why I still talk about her diagnosis, her treatment, her fears and the devastating impact a brain tumour had on her young life.
The answer is simpl Charlotteโs story matters.
Charlotte was just 16 when she was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive brain tumour. She was only 19 when she died. She should have had a lifetime ahead of her, but instead, she faced things that no young person should ever have to experience.
What makes Charlotteโs story so unique is that she documented her journey herself. Through her YouTube videos, she gave us an insight into what it was really like to be a teenager living with a brain tumour. She allowed people to see beyond the diagnosis and into the reality of her everyday life.
She showed the fear, the uncertainty, the physical changes and the emotional struggles. She was honest about what was happening to her, even when it was frightening and difficult to watch.
Charlotte continued making videos until the day before she was placed into an induced coma. By then, the tumour had taken so much from her, including her ability to speak. I had to provide the voiceover for her final videos.
Charlotte gave us something that cannot be recreated: her own account of living with a brain tumour as a young person. These are not simply medical records or somebody else's recollections of what happened to her. They are Charlotte's words, her feelings and her experiences, shared in her own way.
I wish more than anything that Charlotte could see how many people have watched her videos, how many have connected with her and how far her voice has travelled.
I carry on telling her story because there may be another teenager sitting in a hospital room, frightened and overwhelmed, who needs to know they are not alone. There may be a parent desperately trying to understand what their child is experiencing. There may be someone who has never thought about what a brain tumour means beyond the medical diagnosis.
Charlotte helps people understand.
I also tell her story because brain tumours need greater awareness, more research and better treatments. Behind every statistic is a person with a family, a personality, hopes and dreams. Charlotte was not a statistic to us. She was our daughter, our sister and a young woman with so much to give.
Thirteen years on, I still miss her every single day. Telling her story doesn't mean I have found a way to make peace with losing her. It doesn't mean the pain has disappeared. It means I have found something I can do with the love that remains.
I cannot change what happened to Charlotte. I cannot give her back the future she deserved. But I can make sure people know who she was, what she endured and what she wanted to achieve by sharing her experiences.
Her voice is still reaching people. Her experiences are still helping others understand. And her legacy is still growing.
That is why I continue to tell her story.
Not because I cannot let go of the past, but because her story still has a future.
I am Charlotte's mum. I will always be Charlotte's mum. And for as long as I can, I will make sure her voice is heard.
Because nineteen years was nowhere near long enough for the world to know Charlotte. And thirteen years without her will never be long enough for me to stop telling her story.
https://t.co/WCH9YxZWug