John: "Every Christmas, I find myself thinking of my wife, Ann"
Ann and John
John’s wife Ann wrote a diary during her diagnosis and treatment for ovarian cancer. Sadly, John lost Ann in 1995, but he share’s her story and supports Ovarian Cancer Action to honour her memory and help other women – now, and in the future.
Every Christmas, I find myself thinking of my wife, Ann.
Her smile, her warmth, and the many walks we took together. We met at school, back in 1958 and were married in 1964.
She went on to become a primary school teacher, even doing a degree with the Open University. She liked arts and crafts as well as singing, and she was quite creative – it gave her great pleasure.
She had such a good sense of humour. We used to have lots of fun, lots of inside jokes, and even now I think of things that would have made her chuckle.
February 14th 1993 | Ann's diarySunday we romantically went to the tip together – it’s our little joke between us. John always says he knows how to treat a girl. For me it is symbolic of our love for each other that as long as we are together the place is of no consequence.
Ann faced a long road to diagnosis. Her first doctor got it completely wrong and she had to seek a second opinion. They completely misdiagnosed her and that was so frustrating from our point of view. In the end it was a gynaecologist who realised she may have ovarian cancer.
December 8th, 1992 | Ann's diaryAttended the doctors for my second injection and told the nurse I wasn’t satisfied with the doctor’s reaction to my symptoms. The nurse suggested I have a second opinion. Why I didn’t come to this decision earlier I don’t know, other that I was too tired or worried to make that decision on my own.
Ann and I shared many years together – years full of love, laughter, and raising our three wonderful children. But in her final months, she felt robbed of the future we had dreamed of.
Ann and her family.
April 1994 | Ann's diaryI have written three individual letters to my dearest children, trying the impossible, that is to put thirty years of relationships, I so badly want, with them, on two sides of A4 It feel like copying the bible onto a post age stamp - it is so inadequate.
I have been thinking about John and my wonderful children and experiencing such emotional pain at the thought of having to leave them years before I am ready. I don’t think it would have been possible to experience anything better than loving John and making our three children together. I do accept that it’s not the length of a person’s life but the quality of the experience that matter and that no one either chooses to be born or when to die.
But I still feel the pain of having to leave the job of being a wife and mother only half done. It’s like climbing only halfway up the mountain, and I so want to reach the summit.
Ann at Christmas with her family.
I remember Ann’s incredible strength as she faced ovarian cancer – a journey we went through together, though in the end, it took her from us.
It’s interesting when you mention cancer to people. It’s changed so much, and we talk about it so much more compared to when Ann was going through it. It’s become a ‘normal’ thing to discuss, thankfully.
Treatments are improving – personalised medicine, better chemotherapy – and more women are surviving now than ever before. That gives me hope.
But it’s shocking that so many, just like Ann, are still losing their lives to ovarian cancer. My daughter must be checked for the rest of her life to make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to her - but with no screening available, it’s not so easy. Just recently I spoke to woman whose mother was shockingly diagnosed on a Friday and passed away the very next week.
Ann wrote a diary during her diagnosis and treatment. I didn’t read it until after she died, which was quite tough. Looking through it makes me emotional, even now. She wrote it to express her feelings, and to help us – her family – as well as, if possible, to help others who found themselves with the same illness.
By sharing her words, I want to keep her memory alive. And I believe that helping to save another woman’s life is the best way to honour her.
Because of supporters like John, and like you, research is advancing.
More women are benefitting from better, more personalised treatments and the hope to discover new ways to prevent and detect ovarian cancer.
This Christmas, your love can fuel life-saving research and ensure that more women have the chance to share moments like John and Ann did. Together, we can keep hope alive.
