education

I was diagnosed with cancer at 14. Now I work alongside a doctor who treated me

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I was 14 and on holiday with my family when I became ill. In two weeks, I lost a huge amount of weight and could barely stand without passing out. When we got home I had blood tests before being transferred to Southampton general hospital, where it was confirmed I had leukaemia and needed six months of intensive chemotherapy treatment.

I was a young patient, but I was keen to know everything about my diagnosis and my consultants got used to my constant questioning. One of my favourites was Dr Mary Morgan. Some consultants would ignore me and talk directly to my parents, but she always treated me like an adult. She even agreed to take me to the lab to see my blood being analysed. Although I liked science at school, I wasn’t necessarily good at it. But when it was real-life science happening to me, I found it fascinating. That trip to the lab with Mary was when I first realised I wanted to become a scientist.

After four cycles of treatments, I went into remission. Going back to school and facing GCSEs after so much time away was nerve-racking, but it was also so great to be back to normal again.

I had been clear of cancer for three years and was studying for my A-levels when I woke up one morning feeling off. Stumbling and weak, I collapsed in the bathroom, smashing my head on the basin. My family picked me up and took me straight to hospital. They told me it was leukaemia again. This time I needed a bone marrow transplant.

Catherine Pointer had leukemia as a child and now works in cancer research.
‘I was a young patient but I was keen to know everything about my diagnosis.’ Photograph: Cancer Research UK

A match was found after eight weeks on the transplant register. They warned me treatment was going to be harder, but I didn’t take it seriously because I’d coped so well in the past. Nothing had prepared me for the process to prepare for the transplant, though. Total body irradiation – killing off all of my bone marrow through radiotherapy. I remember lying on my hospital bed telling my mum I couldn’t do it anymore. I was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. I could feel everything shutting down inside me. I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognise the person I saw.

I took a full academic year off in between the first and second year of A-levels to have my transplant. When I returned, I spent all my free periods and breaks in the library so I could achieve the best grades possible and get into university.

Cancer had dominated my life by this point – but it was all I wanted to choose as a career. I didn’t want any 14-year-old to go through the same thing I had. After a degree in biomedical sciences and a master’s in cancer sciences, I started my PhD in cancer research, looking for answers about what happened to me. When I finished in 2018, I began work as a researcher on Cancer Research UK-funded trials at the same hospital where I was treated as a child.

The inspirational women who looked after me then are still a part of my life. Mary is now retired and came to my wedding last year. Dr Juliet Gray, a registrar (now consultant) on the paediatric oncology ward when I was first admitted at 14, offered me work experience at her lab prior to my PhD. I now work alongside her on clinical trials. Juliet was there the whole time throughout both of my treatments. I remember once when I was visiting the hospital as a day patient, I came down with a serious infection. My blood pressure dropped and I was about to be sent to intensive care. She was on call, stepped in and managed to stabilise me.

My work is focused on immunotherapy clinical trials. This type of treatment teaches your immune system to attack and destroy cancer cells and may result in fewer long-term side effects. After my transplant I remember I was given a four-page list of possible side effects. At 17 it didn’t register. I was so desperate to be rid of the cancer that all thoughts of the long-term impact of treatment went out the window.

Now I’m older, I’m dealing with the reality. I faced a third cancer diagnosis two years ago – a mild form of skin cancer that was a byproduct of my treatment as a teenager – and I’m infertile as a result of my bone marrow transplant. I also went through the menopause at 17.

I never cared much before, but now it matters. After I met my now husband my priorities shifted. Suddenly all I wanted was to grow old with him and be able to raise a family.

I want to see the day that children and young people going through cancer can come through the other side and be able to live well, not just survive with a lifetime of side effects from the treatment they had. People shouldn’t have to choose survival at the expense of being able to live – there has to be a better outcome than that.

Catherine is supporting Cancer Research UK for Children & Young People during Childhood Cancer Awareness Month this September.

If you would like to contribute to our Blood, sweat and tears series about experiences in healthcare during the coronavirus outbreak, get in touch by emailing sarah.johnson@theguardian.com

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