Throughout the past 12 months I have started to write this in my head 1000s of times. Really. Not a day has gone by, when I haven’t thought of how to explain to my family, colleagues, friends, their friends and even complete strangers, that I failed. When I realised that today marks the 2 year anniversary since announcing my campaign to help adults and children in Aleppo suffering from cancer, I realised today is the perfect day to face up to it all and (try to) put an end to my guilty feelings. Quite frankly because, if nothing else, my stomach can’t cope with the violent somersaults it makes every time I even start to think about it. I know many of you lovely people are reading this and telling me not to be so hard on myself. Others reading this might be thinking „at last, finally some news about what happened to our hard earned cash!“. When I think through everything I did to get Cancer Care for Aleppo (CC4A) up and running, I can feel the claws in my stomach slowly release their grip (yes, somersaults are followed by talons! – really not healthy!) and I thankfully manage to reduce my feelings of guilt. It is high time I shared this all with you all….
Two years ago when I first started fundraising I read about a centre for Cancer Care in Aleppo. „Great“ I thought, „I’ll just send the money there to support their work“. Initial research looked very positive and it was all looking quite do-able. That is, until my contacts on the ground in Aleppo informed me that in actual fact, the centre no longer existed – all equipment had been looted and the doctors and medical staff had fled to Saudi Arabia with no plans to return in the near or even distant future. Not being one to accept this small set back (gulp) I continued with my mission. Further research revealed the existence of a local medical charity on the ground in Aleppo and a flurry of Emails between Germany and Syria followed, occasionally interrupted by rounds of bombing in Aleppo and rounds of chemo in Berlin. All very acceptable excuses for delay, I think we can agree on that! Despite these time-hiccups, a budget was created and everything looked rosy, until, doubt was cast over the integrity of the organisiation to the extent that my Syrian contacts withdrew all public support from my campaign, fearing for the safety of their families in Aleppo. This crushed me. It was the only time I cried during chemo. (Well OK, maybe I cried a few more times, but this was the worst). I realised that even me (ha!), had been thwarted by a stupid war. Worse still, was experiencing first hand how a society can be so broken, so divided by suspicion and fear, and not without good reason.
After that my only option was to pick myself up, wipe away the tears and bounce off to another chemo vowing „never to give up“. Soon after, a mutual friend virtually introduced me to a doctor treating cancer patients in Aleppo. An initial positive answer quickly fizzled away into nothing. Around this time, I admit I was tiring as I approached the end of 16 rounds of chemo. My body felt broken, and finally, I had run out of energy and ideas. I decided to give myself a break from the project and vowed to pick it up again after re-grouping, refreshing and re-energising. Up until this point the situation in Syria had been fairly quiet for some time, at least compared to what had been happening previously. I remember thinking „it will soon be the end of the war and we can contribute in a small way to rebuilding necessary infrastructure and giving hope to Syrians for the future of their country“. Then bombing started again, chemical weapons were used and all my (futile, naive) hopes for peace in the region were destroyed, along with the lives of thousands more people.
It is now 1.5 years since my last chemotherapy session. I am slightly less broken but physically struggling in so many ways (I now just pass a hand-written list of all the latest side-effects to my GP). My oncologist tells me I must grin and bear it because living the rest of my life with all the side effects is definitely better than the alternative (thanks doc!). I think back to my „motto“ that kept me going through chemo and was the basis for my CC4A campaign: „when you have cancer, the only thing worse than chemotherapy is no chemotherapy“. In Germany we are so lucky to have access to healthcare that people in many (most?) other countries can only dream of. My dream was to start CC4A and later open centres in all the places lacking cancer treatment centres.
I must have known, even through my chemo eyes, that it was an ambitious dream because during the fundraising I said all along that if Cancer Care for Aleppo didn’t work out, that I would donate the money raised to Doctors without Borders (MSF). In 2016 I worked in a refugee camp near the border of Germany with many medics from MSF who amazed me with their descriptions of working life, helping people in some of the most desperate and dangerous situations in the world, including in Syria. I will therefore be donating all the money raised from the Cancer Care for Aleppo campaign to MSF, who really do amazing work.
I want to thank everyone for believing in me, for your unquestioning support – it really means the world to me and kept me going through the biggest challenge I have ever faced. I will never forget it. Yet I want to apologise with all my heart for letting you down, I am sorry I let me down too, but most of all I am sorry I let the people in Aleppo with cancer down. Because they are the ones who needed our help the most.
katiegriggspainter 