Team Talks: Cara's charity work

Recruitment is a people business. So, we thought we’d introduce you to the people behind Bamboo in our new ‘Team Talks’ series.

In this post, Content Manager, Cara talks about her passion for charity work.

Where did your passion for charity work come from?

In 1980, my father was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis; a chronic autoimmune disease that affects the central nervous system, (the brain, spinal cord, and optic nerves). Some people have mild symptoms, such as blurred vision, numbness, fatigue, and tingling in the limbs. In severe cases, MS can lead to vision loss, mobility problems, and paralysis.

My dad had a severe case. In 1990, he was registered blind, and over the next 20 years, he lost the use of his legs and arms. By 2010, he was bed-ridden.

Despite his disabilities, pain, and chronic fatigue, he refused to give in to the illness. For years, he crawled around the house rather than rather than give in to a wheelchair. It could take him anywhere up to 40 minutes to crawl just a few metres.

His attitude inspired me to start volunteering as a fundraiser for my local MS branch.

Over the course of 20 years, I organised all sorts of events, from comedy and talent nights to blind beer tasting events and music festivals.

I loved doing it, so stepping down from the role in 2019 was bittersweet.

Why did you step down?

As I organised the events single-handedly, they were extremely time intensive. I had to stop as I was struggling to manage them alongside my job.

However, I found a new way to give back.

What was that?

My mother was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma (a form of blood cancer) in 2019.  To learn more about the disease, I joined a Facebook group.

While scrolling through the posts, I came across one from a guy called Joseph. The post read; ‘my cancer hasn’t responded to chemo. It’s going to kill me. I’m only 26. I don’t want to die.’

The message had a profound effect on me. I could sense his desperation and felt an overwhelming desire to help, so I reached out to him.

Understandably, he was suspicious at first, but I was persistent, and, over time, we established a bond.

I encouraged him to lean on me for emotional support. As his condition worsened, he started contacting me daily, often in tears.

I was desperate to give him some hope, so I started researching. I reached out to specialists in his type of cancer to ask about drug trials/new therapies, and one of them mentioned CAR T-cell therapy - a cell-based gene therapy that involves altering the genes inside T-cells (a type of white blood cell) to prime them to attack cancerous cells.

It’s a last resort for patients who haven’t responded to any other form of treatment.

The doctor said it could be a difficult and lengthy process to get Joseph approved as the treatment had only just been licensed in the UK. However, he agreed to put Joseph forward for it, and six weeks later, he started the gruelling process.

Did the treatment work?

Initially, his tumours shrunk. But within five weeks, they’d doubled in size.  

At the time, the doctors didn’t know why. They now think it was due to a phenomenon known as ‘hyper progressive disease’ (an adverse outcome of immunotherapy consisting of an acceleration of tumour growth, accompanied by prompt clinical deterioration).  

As devastating as it was, I was adamant we’d find a solution.

With Joseph’s consent, I contacted the national press. I hoped one of the papers would agree to tell Joseph’s story and it would attract the attention of someone who could help.

The Daily Mail featured his story in January 2020, but tragically, Joseph died before we could follow up on any leads.

He had the presence of mind to write me a card before he died saying how grateful he was., and how he wouldn’t have survived as long as he did without my support. It was a beautiful gesture.

What did you get out of helping Joseph?

Acting as a ‘doula’ for Joseph was the most practical way I could help him.

I’ve always thought if I had cancer, I wouldn’t want people to make me food or bring me flowers. I’d want them to do the stuff I wouldn’t have energy for – researching the best doctors, hospitals, and treatments … I’d want them to advocate for me and fight my corner.

Doing this for Joseph was the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done.

I’m now doing the same for a friend who’s fighting terminal bowel cancer.