When her daughter fell ill, Gail Iredale, 52, had to deal with every mother’s worst nightmare
WORDS: KATIE PEARSON AND LOUISE BATY
She’d worked hard to get the qualifications required to win an apprenticeship at the JCB headquarters near our home in Derbyshire. Now she was living her dream and her achievements were remarkable because she’d been coping with health issues including migraines, nausea and nosebleeds for months.
Despite numerous appointments, and a hospital stay in December 2021, we were
My daughter Hannah’s eyes shone as she told me about her day. Not only had she been tinkering with engines, she’d also learnt new welding skills on her work apprenticeship. It was May 2022 and it was clear that Hannah, then 18, was enjoying herself. Ever since she’d been able to pick up a toy spanner as a tiny toddler, she’d been fascinated by engines and would spend hours playing with toy cars. no closer to discovering the cause of her symptoms.
But, early on 16 July 2022, I received a call from Hannah who was staying with her father.
‘Mum, I’m going to A&E in an ambulance. I can’t see out of my left eye!’
Terrified, I rushed to Royal Derby Hospital and discovered Hannah was being taken for an urgent scan. We didn’t have to wait long for the results as the specialist told her, ‘You have a very large tumour in your brain, Hannah’.
I wrapped my arms around her as we both cried in shock. Despite her symptoms, the possibility of a tumour hadn’t been suggested. Weeks continued and, as she remained in hospital, her symptoms worsened as she began suffering long seizures.
On 4 August 2022, after being transferred to Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham, she had an eight-hour operation to ‘debulk’ the tumour, leaving her with a long scar snaking across her forehead. Afterwards, the surgeon told us that 98% of the tumour was gone.
But all hope was crushed, weeks later, when an oncologist ushered me and Hannah’s dad – my ex husband - into his office on our own. I took one look at the doctor’s face and I knew.
He explained that tests showed Hannah’s tumour to be a very aggressive, Grade 4, fast-growing cancer called glioblastoma. My whole body started to tremble as he told us, gently, ‘It’s incurable’. The terrible statistics for this type of tumour spoke for themselves, with only a small percentage of patients surviving more than a year after diagnosis, even with treatm
