Voices: As a cancer patient, here’s my one piece of advice to Kate Middleton that could change everything...

The entire UK was dealt a blow yesterday when it was revealed that Kate Middleton has been diagnosed with cancer. People in the UK who may have never had to face this terrible disease have found themselves suddenly coming to terms with the shock, uncertainty and heartbreak that thousands do every day. It’s an awful feeling, and one that I and my family are all too familiar with.

In 2018 I was diagnosed with triple negative breast cancer. It’s a type of cancer that has a particularly poor prognosis due to the limited range of treatments available to those afflicted, and tends to affect younger women, and Black women especially.

Receiving news like that can change your entire world. I knew it would change mine, but I was more concerned about how it would affect my daughter, Ilani. She was only six at the time – how are you supposed to tell a child that young that mummy is very, very sick?

I broke the news to Ilani during her summer break. She took it about the way you’d expect any child to, but I stayed optimistic, and made sure she understood that all of my treatment would be with curative intent. I wanted to prepare her for the fact that I would look different. For the fact that her school friends might say things about me without fully understanding the impact their words would have.

When I would come home from having my treatments, she would sit by my bedside and draw me pictures, or roleplay doctor and patient with me. She would go to school and tell her friends and teachers “Mummy is doing well”, or “Mummy has a new wig”. We found a new normal that worked for us.

At the time I thought that telling my daughter that her mum had cancer was the worst feeling in the world, but that ended up not being entirely true: that came a few years later, in 2021, when I had to tell her that my cancer had progressed to stage four, and had become incurable.

It sounds almost counterintuitive, but the situation actually gets harder the older my daughter becomes. I guess it’s because she’s better able to understand exactly what’s happening to me and what it will probably mean for us both in the future. She knew that my treatments would now no longer be with curative intent, but with the intent of making me as comfortable as possible.

Unfortunately, those treatments are not as readily available as they should be for people in my position. I can’t afford to go private and the NHS hasn’t yet approved a whole host of drugs that could make situations like mine more bearable.

The issue with terminal cancer – or any cancer – is that it’s very possible for treatments to become less effective over time. As such, you’re always looking for the next option, acutely aware that a particular round of chemotherapy might only be effective for the next three months before it becomes time to move on.

Right now, I’m currently coming to the end of my final treatment option. While I am able to deal with the pain and live a life that’s approaching normal, the fact is that once my treatment runs out things may be very different for me.

Cancer is like a postcode lottery – drugs are available here but not there (unless you have the money to pay for it). You want to be able to tell your kids that there’s something else out there for you, but that might not be the case and for a reason as petty as which area of the country you happen to live.

Worse still is waiting for drugs that have already been approved in the US or other parts of the UK, knowing that it could still be months or years before the NHS makes them available even though they’re already being used elsewhere to improve the lives of thousands. The chemo I’m on at the moment, for example, wasn’t even available when I was re-diagnosed three years ago. Often you’re playing a waiting game, hoping that treatments will become available while you can still take advantage of them. The problem is that you’re playing with borrowed time, and you don’t know when it’s going to run out.

Like anybody with cancer, I want to fit my treatments around my life, not the other way around – but at the moment, that just isn’t an option for most people.

With the news of Kate’s diagnosis, I wonder how the conversation around treatment is going to change in the coming weeks and years. My hope is that Kate is fortunate enough to have access to the very best care in the world, and I will be praying that she makes a full and speedy recovery. Unfortunately, many people in the UK will struggle to access the kind of resources they may need for their own care.

Hopefully, as we are made aware of the parts of her journey she chooses to share with us, we can start to have conversations about what resources are available to cancer patients, and how we can help improve access to them.

In the meantime, I’ll be continuing my own journey, taking it one day at a time. For those in my position – Kate included – I’d say this: take care of your mental health. Some days are harder than others, and on those more difficult days, when you can’t do the things you normally would, it’s going to be your mind that gets you through to the next one.

There is hope, even though it might not always feel like it. You will eventually feel better and you will experience a new normal. You will be able to keep going. Do not lose hope, and try to hold onto the little things, those little moments. For me, that’s the opportunity to watch my daughter grow into a young woman. I’ll cherish every second.

Nina is an ambassador for The Cancer Platform - you can donate to Nina’s GoFundMe here