Tom Saltwell

My Story

Hello Everyone,

My name is Tom and I’d like to share my story about my Dad, Andy.

My dad is a hard working, strong and intelligent man who is extremely caring and enthusiastic. He’s always supported my family and I no matter what we’ve done in life, but not only just support it at little bit, he’s always dived in head and shoulders doing absolutely everything he can. He has always been able to do anything he puts his mind to. He has always been heavily interested in sports no matter what sport is on the TV, whether it’s watching our beloved Ipswich Town or just watching NFL on the TV, he’s really into it. One of his favourite things to watch was the marathon when it was on TV and one day he decided that he wanted to be a part of it. So with no running experience at all, he set out his training and started to prepare for his first marathon, the London Marathon. Through his determination and dedication he completed the training and the marathon and quickly caught the running bug. A new target was now set, to run all the major marathons, which at the time was London, Berlin, Tokyo, Boston, New York and Chicago. Within the space of 4/5 years he had gone from a non runner, to running all the major marathons, which should give you a insight to the type of person he is. Once he has set his mind on something, nothing will stop him from achieving that goal. It highlights the strength he has both physically and mentally.

In late May 2024, we started noticing some changes in my Dad’s behaviour. He said he had been having bad headaches, and he was sleeping a lot, but we thought that this was just due to work and stress, as he was then working a full time stressful job at the age of 65 at that time. Then one night in June, I went out for a meal with my dad and my fiancé, Aubrey and we noticed that my dad’s face was very slightly dropping when he spoke and he was acting like he was a bit drunk when he only had maybe 2 beers at the dinner. When we got home he even stumbled a little bit which caused us concerns. We thought that maybe he would be okay in the morning after a good sleep and didn’t really know that something serious was going on with him. The next day we went to work as normal but very quickly I realised that my dad was showing the very same symptoms as the night before, so I spoke to my brothers and we decided it was best to get dad to hospital ASAP with the possibility he was showing signs of a stroke. The droopy face was the key factor in us thinking that this was likely a stroke related incident he had. I took him to the hospital that day, which was a horrible experience. To me my dad was the strongest person in the world, I didn’t think that anything could hurt him, I thought he was invincible and I couldn’t understand why something was happening to him. After a long wait in the hospital the stroke doctors came around and agreed that dad was showing signs of a stroke and they’d like to keep him in hospital overnight, just to do some checks on him. Little did we know that he would be staying in hospital for the next 6 months.

My dad had both CT and MRI scans on his head to check for stroke signs, which would normally be something like bleeding of the brain. Instead they found something else, what looked like three grey blobs on the scan. Brain tumours. This was one of the worst days of my life when we got told this. I remember being at work and just panicking not knowing what to do, I ran out to the car crying uncontrollably and just drove to go and see my dad. Not knowing what the future was going to hold.

The doctors suspected that my dad had something called metastasis, which basically means that my dad had cancer somewhere else in the body, and it had spread to the brain. This is quite a late stage cancer with not a very good outcome, so this was obviously the worst possible outcome for us, if it was found out that it was this specific type of cancer. He had some more scans over his whole body to try and see where the ‘primary’ cancer might be. But after scanning everything, they found out that he had no cancer anywhere else in the body. This was a good win for us as it meant that he didn’t have metastasis, although now it also meant we don’t know what the tumours actually are, leaving us all in the unknown again.

Dad was transferred to a brain specialist hospital in Queens, Romford where they could do a biopsy on the tumours to figure out what was actually going on. It was there he was diagnosed with Central Nervous System Lymphoma (CNS Lymphoma) which is a rare type of cancer that forms in the brain. Although this cancer is very aggressive, which explains my dad’s quick deterioration, it’s actually a treatable cancer and people who have it can go into remission. This was another positive step for us really because for the first time we was hearing that dad might be alright and his cancer can go away. We was told he’d be having a type of chemotherapy called MATRIX in 4 courses, each course being a 28 day period, with the goal that in between each course he could come home. We were all very pleased with this, as by this point dad had been in hospital for a couple of months now and the thought of him getting the treatment he needed and also being able to come back home was a very happy moment for us.

Dad has his first round of chemotherapy in one hit overnight to start the courses. I didn’t really understand how chemotherapy worked really, I assumed he would be on an IV for a while whilst it’s administered throughout the entire 28 day period rather than get it all in one hit. But after hearing that he had it all in one go overnight I thought that was good news again, because maybe he could come home earlier than the 28 days originally suggested. 2 weeks after the chemotherapy was administered dad was feeling better in himself. He couldn’t walk at this time but my mum was taking him downstairs outside the hospital to get a bit of sun and get some ice cream. It was here she noticed that his feet looked a quite swollen, which was evident because he’d been laying down for over 2 months in a hospital bed not able to walk and had lost a lot of weight, his legs were like chicken legs.

We was told that this swelling in his feet was because dad had contracted an infection. We were aware that the chemotherapy he had was a dangerous one as it has high risks of infection, and dad was just one of the unlucky people to contract one. After some tests the doctors found out that he had contracted sepsis. Sepsis is a very dangerous infection that can lead to death. When you get sepsis your body goes into overdrive trying to fight of an infection, but ends up damaging your body significantly in doing so. Dad was taken down to the Intensive Therapy Unit (ITU) where he would be ministered antibiotics to treat the sepsis and have 24 hour care. It was in ITU where he got another infection, pneumonia this time, and his body was battling two nasty infections at the same time.

I got a call from my brother Alex on a Friday night, who was in ITU with dad at the time, and was told that he would be put in an induced coma to help his body fight these infections as it was his best chance of surviving. At this point we were all really worried for dad, as you don’t know if he will ever wake up from this coma or what’s going to happen. The doctors and nurses don’t know either because it’s just whether or not his body can battle through it, no one can predict it, it’s just a waiting game. Seeing him in the induced coma in ITU was hard. He’s laying there with a tube going in his mouth which goes all the way to his lungs, needing it to be able to breath. So many different tubes going off in his body for different medications and all sorts. I would sit next to him and tell him all the latest Ipswich news, tell him how we were playing against all the top premier league sides now like how we used to do before I was born. All things I couldn’t wait to tell him when he fought off this infection and was conscious again.

Dad was in the induced coma for a couple of weeks. Throughout that time it was horrible really as it was a bit of a waiting game, trying to get any form of news whether he is doing better or not, but we couldn’t get any news from the doctors until he actually showed signs of improvement. Then one day we was finally told that he was showing signs of improvement. Being the strong, resilient man he is, his body was fighting back and his never give up determination was in full swing. Slowly, every day his body was improving, the antibiotics were working and he was back on the mend. We was told that dad would be coming out of the induced coma, and would continue his recovery. Fantastic news for us all, we was all itching to get to the hospital when he was awake, just to be able to have a conversation with him again. When dad was awake again he was extremely groggy, understandably, but was able to speak to us. His voice was very hoarse where he’d had the tube down his throat for so long, but that was to be expected anyway.  It just felt so nice to be able to speak to him again after I didn’t know whether or not he’d make it through these infections. It’s a feeling that’s really hard to describe.

Dad was on the mend for a short period of time, I want to say maybe 2 weeks, but it could have been more or it could have been less. He was still in ITU whilst they were monitoring him. I felt so bad for all the other poor people in there, so many people in comas, seriously ill, with loving family and friends around them doing what they can to support, like my family and I were doing. After that period of time, we was told that dad had got sepsis again. I didn’t think that would be possible for him to contract it, get rid of it, and it come back again all in such a short period of time. It was the definition of a rollercoaster experience. One minute it’s good news and your happy, the next minute it’ bad news and your so deflated and anxious.  We was told that dad would be going back in an induced coma as they would need to follow the exact same procedures that he had just gone through. I just thought to myself ‘okay, well he’s already beaten it before, so he will just beat it again’. But then my mum was told by a consultant that ‘no one beats sepsis twice.’

The next day my brother Nick and I were down the Ipswich Town training ground at an event. Our work sponsor a player and that year we was sponsoring the captain, Sam Morsy so the event was to go down there and meet him, take some photos, and watch a training session. It was a fantastic experience for us both, although throughout we both were both were obviously wondering how dad was doing. On the way back from the event mum called us and told us that she had been called up by the hospital and it would be a good idea for all the family to come down to the hospital to essentially say goodbye to dad. My heart completely sunk, I didn’t know what to say or do or how to act really. I didn’t think that this moment was ever going to come. I just thought that he’d be alright, I think we all did. Saying goodbye to my dad that night was the hardest thing I have ever done. I told him that I didn’t want him to give up, to keep fighting as long as he can. I told him that I will tell my future children what a great man he was, a legend in fact. I told him how I would be thinking about him on my wedding day and he would be there with me. I told him how proud I was to be his son, how thankful I was for everything he done for me and my family. It was hard, so hard. I called my fiancé afterwards and told her that I just said goodbye to my dad. That’s a sentence I just thought I’d never have to say.

The next day I went to work and I felt quite numb. I remember just going into work in trackie bottoms, I didn’t really care how I looked or anything. I was physically present at work but in my head I was just thinking about dad and waiting for that phone call from mum to say he had gone. But the phone call didn’t come. Not the next day, nor the next day or the next day. I was going down the hospital pretty much every night at this point and the doctors just kept telling me that he’s stable, not improving but not getting any worse. I thought to myself; ‘he couldn’t, could he?’. Surely he can’t pull off the impossible? His body just would not give up, he wouldn’t stop fighting. Low and behold a miracle happened, and once again, my dad had done it and all the infection markers were going down! YES!! How on earth he done that, I have no idea. The odds were stacked against him, but he overcame everything that came his way. We were all elated that he managed to completely turn this thing around.

A couple of weeks went by and dad was still in an induced coma, but his body was responding well to the second round of sepsis and he was slowly recovering. Mum had a meeting with a doctor and they said that because dad has been in an induced coma, twice, and because the pneumonia had scarred his lungs quite badly, they might need to do an operation on his throat. He had a machine to help him breath in the coma, so the idea was that he’d likely struggle to breath on his own afterwards, so the tracheostomy would make a small hole in his wind pipe to assist with easier breathing. At this point we was just happy that dad was actually alive and potentially going to come conscious again, so we was happy to go along with whatever the doctors felt was the right decision to make. I think what the plan to do was to slowly take him off the sedation and see how his body reacted to breathing and then they would make a decision from there. Lucky enough for dad, his lungs actually responded really well to coming off the breathing machine and they decided that they didn’t need to do the operation. I was quite thankful for that afterwards. I understood that he may need it done, but I did think it would be really hard and confusing for him as he had been in the coma for so long, to then come out and have a hole in his throat in order to breathe.

After fighting off sepsis again and coming out of the coma the second time, dad started to recover again. It was an anxious time though because we had no idea what was around the corner. What would happen if he gets another infection again? That was the thought that was constantly running through my mind. My mum had another meeting with he doctor and that’s where they told her hat if dad did get another infection again, they wouldn’t be putting him in a coma a third time. His body would have to fight it on it’s own. Although it seems harsh I do understand the reason for this though, it’s because if his body went back into the induced coma again, then it probably wouldn’t be able to cope and survive without the life machines that he was on anyway. His body would just be too used to being on those machines. The doctors also told mum that they wouldn’t be giving dad anymore chemotherapy either because his body was too weak to cope with it.

As dad had been in the ITU for so long now preoccupied with the infections, we didn’t have any idea about how the chemotherapy actually reacted to the tumours. He hadn’t done any scans or anything check the tumours to see what the state of them were. Dad got to a point where he was able to come out of the ITU and go back up to the chemo ward, where he would finally be able to start his long awaited road to recovery. He finally had a scan too and they said that even though he only had 1 course of the MATRIX chemotherapy, it got rid of the tumours and they weren’t showing on any scans. This was the best news we could have asked for, dad was on the mend and the cancer had seemed to have gone. We started making plans like what we was going to do for Christmas, what football matches he was going to go to and things like that. Things that I didn’t think were ever going to happen again. It was a very happy time for us, for sure.

Dad was getting physiotherapy on a daily basis in the hospital and was getting stronger by the day. He had to pretty much learn to walk again, how to do the basics again like make a cup of tea and go to the toilet on his own. I know this was a tough time for dad personally, as he had been through a lot and knowing him, it would have been really frustrating that he wasn’t able to do simple tasks anymore. But he kept going and he got stronger and before we knew it they started discussions on getting him home. I think it was around November time so we thought that there was a serious possibility of getting dad home for Christmas. Who would have thought that 6 months beforehand taking my dad to the hospital for a suspected stroke that we’d be finally getting him out around Christmas! The doctors visited the house and assessed that everything was okay for dad safety-wise as even though he was walking with the aid of a walking stick, he was still quite unstable on his feet. We had to put up some supports in the shower and next the toilet and stuff like that to make it a bit safer and easier for him to do things.

Dad got the all clear from the hospital to go home, before he left we was told that there’s a 50/50 chance that his cancer could come back within the first 6 months, but we was just happy at this point to finally have dad home again, after everything we had all been through as a family. That Christmas was a very special one. We spent the Christmas together as a whole family, very thankful that we was able to do that again. Dad was able to go to Portman Road to see Ipswich play, he was able to spend time with his grandchildren who he had such a close bond with, and just have some normality back in his life after a whirlwind year. He had a check up scan in February of this year and everything was still all clear, he even went back to work too! My dad’s always been one that likes to keep busy, so going back to work gave him something to do again, he wasn’t working full time, but just doing a couple of days a week. Everything seemed fine and normal again for us during that period of time, however in May, we started to see the same signs again as the previous year. We started to see dad sleeping again for longer hours, a lot of confusion going on, unsteady on his feet again. We knew that unfortunately dad was likely on the wrong side of the 50/50 chance of the cancer coming back like we was told by the doctors.

A scan confirmed that we was right and unfortunately the same three tumours that were there previously, had all returned in the exact same spot. I think this was likely because he only had 1 round of the MATRIX chemotherapy rather than all 4 like he was meant too, but then again, there’s no way he would have been able to handle all 4 at that time anyway. The doctors said they wanted to get dad in the hospital so they can explore what sort of route to take regarding dad and treatment. Dad was in hospital and had a type of mild chemotherapy which I can’t remember the name of, mexa-something. Just to see how he reacted. At this point I was quite happy they were willing to give him some chemotherapy again as they previously stated they wouldn’t although now he was physically much stronger than he had been before.

 Dad reacted quite well to the mild chemotherapy, and the doctors gave us a few options. The options were that they would keep dad on the mild chemotherapy which is pretty much like palliative care, they could do the mild one with the view of going back into the MATRIX if his body holds up, or they can just jump straight into the MATRIX again. Knowing what the MATRIX done to my dad before and how close we were to losing him, it was obviously quite a scary option, but we thought maybe it would be best to see how he does on the mild chemotherapy with the view of going to the MATRIX if his body is up for it and the doctors thought it was a good idea. Then within a couple of days the doctors said to us that they think it’s a good idea to go straight in with the MATRIX as soon as possible.

Although apprehensive we thought that this is clearly what the best solution would be for dad, and he was up for going through it to try and beat this once and for all as well. So we agreed that Dad should do the MATRIX again, in hope of getting rid of this awful disease.

So here we are pretty much now all up to date. Dad has had his first round of MATRIX chemotherapy, we’re waiting to see from the doctors if they think that he should have more than 1 round as that is a bit unclear at the moment. He did get a chest infection but it turned out to be nothing of concern as of now. I am able to have a conversation with dad, he is in pretty good spirits. The doctors have also had a discussion with mum about potentially getting dad put in a half way house where he can continue his recovery as they need the hospital beds for other patients. The MATRIX hit him hard again so he is back to learning how to walk and learning the basics over again, but he is as I said in good spirits at the moment.

This brings me to why I wanted to run for World Cancer Research Fund. As you can see, I have been directly effected by cancer along with millions of others all around the world. Cancer can rip your whole life together, it can bring you down and ruin you. By funding this fantastic charity we can fight towards saving lives and preventing this awful disease. I want to run the marathon and follow in my dads footsteps, quite literally. I know that if I can even show a glimpse of my dads strength and determination then I will be able to conquer the marathon just like he did.