Living With Hope

My thought for today is ‘hope’. It’s a word that, for the last 16 years, I’ve tried really hard, (actually that’s not true, I’ve tried really, really hard) to use as part of my everyday vocabulary even on days when I haven’t felt hopeful; saying the word out loud anchors me and reminds me of what might be on the horizon. It provides me with comfort, inspiration and motivation.

What is it though, this concept of ‘hope’ that has such a fundamental role in life?  The Oxford Dictionary describes hope as:

  1. A feeling of expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen
  2. A person or thing that may help or save someone
  3. Grounds for believing something good may happen

Based on those definitions, it’s clear why hope plays such an integral part in every chapter of our lives; each page has hope embedded within it. Our hopes and dreams are what give us purpose to our existence and form part of the building blocks for a happy life. But life’s pathway isn’t always smooth and I believe that every one of us has challenges that we have to face throughout our lives; cancer happens to be the biggest of mine and it will be for the rest of my life.

A cancer diagnosis can be life threatening and forces an individual to open the curtain on their life and glimpse through a window where the scene outside might not include themselves in it. How must that feel? Well hopefully, lots of you reading this blog will never have had to do that; unfortunately, if you’re reading this and you have faced a cancer diagnosis then you know the feeling. I have yet to meet anybody who has undergone treatment for cancer who has never thought about dying from the disease and I’ve met a lot.  If you’re still reading, I promise it’s going to get more upbeat!

I really started to think about the concept of hope when I was diagnosed with secondary breast cancer, the incurable form of the disease; the breast cancer that started in my right breast had spread to other areas of my body. In my case this was my lungs and pleural lining of my lungs. It was December 2007 and I was 40 years old. Back then, my daughter Megan was a week away from her 10th birthday and my son Jack was 6 and my hope was that I would live long enough to see Megan start secondary school and for Jack to get nearer to double digits. (I’m sorry if I sound as though my hopes were a bit limited back then but my prognosis was 3-6 months if I chose not to have chemotherapy and a couple of years if I opted for chemotherapy so you can see where I was coming from!)

Breast cancer reared its ugly head the first time when I was 34; Megan was 3 and Jack was 5 months old. Uninvited, it decided to visit me again three years later when I was 37. My attitude to it then was cavalier in the sense of, ‘Does it know who it’s playing with here? I’m a busy career woman with a husband and two young children. I haven’t got time for breast cancer.’ But in 2007, I slowly came to understand that breast cancer doesn’t care who you are, what you do for a living or if you have children or not and when I realised that, I really started to understand the meaning of the word ‘hope’. Forced to look at life through a fresh pair of eyes and stare at my own mortality with crystal clarity, hope and I really got to know one another.

My sense of hope has changed over the years. It’s been hard to remain hopeful all of the time (my nautral tendency leans heavily towards the school of worry!).  Hearing the news that tumours had grown whilst undergoing chemotherapy was soul destroying but having hope that the drug regime to follow would work more effectively gave me courage to try the next treatment option on offer.

The psychological impact of living with secondary breast cancer has been enormous; I’ve experienced and continue to experience some very difficult days but through help and support, in particular from Dr Annie Hickox and my involvement with Breast Cancer Care, my emotional wellbeing has been nurtured and hope has found a resting place within me. The psychology of hope is something in which I’m no expert but I know how being hopeful makes me feel, compared to the stomach wrenching knots that fear can instill in me.

I’ve far exceeded my original prognosis and I’m inching closer and closer to a very small group of people worldwide who are alive 10 years on from a diagnosis of secondary breast cancer; life expectancy following a stage IV breast cancer diagnosis is difficult to accurately assess and varies due to a number of factors including type of breast cancer and the extent of spread to other areas of the body. I’ve lost friends to the disease who died five years on from their secondary diagnosis and others who tragically lost their lives after a year or so but the general picture globally means that reaching the ten-year survival milestone is a bit of an empty room.

My hope for the future then is this: that the room I currently sit in gets filled with people like me; people who live for many years with the disease who have had chance to live their lives, spend it with their families and friends and who can wake up on a morning with hope that their drug regime will allow them to see milestones reached and their dreams achieved. And, bigger and better than that, is my hope for a future where breast cancer becomes something that nobody dies from; a future where it’s a disease that can be controlled to the natural end of our days.

I was always taught in school to ‘aim high’ and my hope is doing just that.

‘Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul…..’    

Emily Dickinson, December 1830-May 1886.

Published by Laura Ashurst

I'm a wife, mother, daughter, sister, aunty, cousin, niece and friend. My husband and two children are my anchor and, in the background, which is where we like to place it, is secondary breast cancer. I've had cancer in my life for 17 years but I'm living, hoping and enjoying life. My Dad always used to say, 'take the rough with the smooth and live your life'.'s to my life, its challenges and milestones and love and laughter along the way.

27 thoughts on “Living With Hope

  1. Hi Laura
    Angela Simpson posted this on Facebook.
    You’re writing is so beautiful and articulate (and the content so moving).
    I recently had a breast cancer scare – I struggled to function whilst waiting for my results. I was pretty much frozen with fear. When my results were negative I felt immense relief but also guilt and a kind of kinship with all women (I know breast cancer can effect men too).
    What I do know is that had my results been different I would have been searching out for someone like you to talk to. You must have been an amazing inspiration and support to so many people. To say you are a wonderful role model feels like a huge understatement. Your family and friends must be so incredibly proud of you and your strength must help them so much.
    Thank you for being the person that you are.
    You’re blooming amazing and gorgeous 💓


    1. Hi Nikki. Thank you so much for getting in touch and sharing your recent experiences. I’m thrilled for you that your tests for breast cancer were negative. You understand how the fear and anticipation of waiting for test results feels and your empathy for those whose test results prove to be positive is testimony to the wonderful woman you sound to be. I’ve received so much support over the years from my family and friends and if by sharing my experiences helps even one other person I’ll be very happy. It is my turn to thank you for your very generous and kind words of support. You have inspired me. Living with hope always, Laura xx


  2. You live life to the full, you always look forward, smiling, laughing and living with hope is certainly working for you my lovely friend. Everyone looks up to you Laura as you are truly amazing. X


    1. Hiya Lisa. Writing about hope fills me with inspiration and it’s lovely to hear that you feel inspired too. Thank you for your feedback. Always valued, always my friend.xx


  3. Hi Laura, you truly are an amazing, beautiful,and inspirational lady! It seemed such a strange coincidence that we bumped into you at the hospital when Andrew was given his cancer diagnosis. Your kind words and advice really helped us both. I’m so happy that you have surpassed all that you hoped for, long may this continue because the world really needs you lovely lady!! xx


    1. Hello you! How lovely to hear from you. The day I met you and Andrew in the oncology unit after so many years of our paths not crossing was one of those sliding doors moments because I normally get my bloods taken at my Health Centre and would usually have left the unit via the other corridor! Seeing you both that day reminded me of the time when I was newly diagnosed and I knew how you were feeling. Words of support and encouragement from my friends really helped me and it was my turn to be able to do that with you. I really hope that Andrew is continuing to progress well and thank you for your wonderful words of encouragement to me now. Lots of love.xx


      1. Meeting up with you on that day at the hospital was one of those ‘life’ moments that was just meant to be, I suppose some people would call it fate!! Talking to you helped so much and gave Andrew and myself the hope we needed with the treatment that was to follow! Andrew is now doing very well, there was a heart stopping moment back in February when his oncologist was very suspicious about a small lesion on his liver!! A worrying time, however, the latest scans are all clear and his next appointments will be every six months from now on, so we too are continuing with hope in our hearts for a positive future. We both wish you and your family nothing but wonderful things for a bright and happy future together. Lots of love to you Laura and keep up the wonderful work you are doing. xx

        Liked by 1 person

  4. What an awful and worrying time you must have had in February but I’m absolutely thrilled to hear that the scans showed that Andrew was and is doing well. Keep on smiling your wonderful smile and being the beautiful human being that you are. Love and very best wishes to you both. xxxx


  5. Absolutely inspirational Laura , your words are beautiful & your hope shines from your soul. Cancer is the evilest disease & killed my beloved Dad, that you are winning the fight is the very opposite of evil & fills me with joy & hope too. Love you ❤️.
    Dawny xxx


    1. Hi Dawn,
      Thank you so much for getting in touch. It makes me very happy to know that you have enjoyed reading the blog. This is the start of me sharing my experiences in the hope that others are helped through theirs. Sending you much love Dawn and keep posting those lovely pictures of your Dad; they always make me smile.
      Living with hope, always,
      Laura xxx


  6. Hi Laura,
    As always an inspiration.You have always been there for me and lots of other people.You are a brace and beautiful woman.We all will keep hoping.Love Chris Bendall xxx

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hiya Christine,
      Thank you so much for your kind words. You are in my thoughts every day and my hope is shared with you. Your smile has never left you…..ever, and that’s an inspiration to us all. Let’s keep those feathers fluttering. Lots of love right back to you. xxxx


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