In August 2020, following her third cancer diagnosis, Colm Murphy lost his wife Caroline, aged just 41. Since August 2022, Colm has driven for the Irish Cancer Society’s Patient Travel Service, bringing cancer patients to and from their chemotherapy appointments. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done. I get to give back and be there for people going through what my own Caroline did three times.”

Cancer has been in Colm’s life for almost two decades now. “Caroline’s mother, Bernie, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2005 and sadly passed away in 2006. Caroline herself was first diagnosed with non-hodgkin's lymphoma in 2006. We got married in September 2007 and it came back again just after our honeymoon.  She came through it thank God, but the second time was much more difficult than the first. We were commuting over and back from New Ross in Wexford down to Cork University Hospital but the second time, we moved down to Cork.” 

“The treatment the second time was much harsher on her. With the support of an amazing organisation called Brú Columbanus, I was put up and given accommodation in Cork so I could be near. Towards the end of 2008, she came through and was 11 years clear before getting diagnosed again, this time with a more aggressive cancer. My own mother was diagnosed in 2015 with melanoma and she’s still with us. Cancer has been with me and a part of my life for a long time now.”

After coming through her initial two diagnoses, Colm explains that he and Caroline began discussing the possibility of having children. “We knew it was going to be hard and there would be difficulty in conceiving but we decided we wanted to try. We were referred to a gynecologist and they done a few tests but told us, to try and to come back and they would do further tests. I suffer with my back and had been in and out of work and a had a couple of procedures. In early 2016, I done some serious damage and I was off my feet for the best part of 6 months. We lost time there and after going back for more tests, we were told Caroline could carry, but that her eggs had been damaged by the amount of chemo she had. We started off down the IVF journey.”

By the end of 2018, everything was in place to proceed with the IVF, with Caroline’s sister, Angela, being the egg donor. “In early 2019, I needed major back surgery, a double spinal infusion. I basically had to learn to walk again. By the time we were actually ready to go, Caroline and Angela went for some routine check ups to make sure they were in good health for the insemination. Sadly, scans and further tests revealed Caroline now had colon cancer as well as a very rare type of vaginal cancer – they were back to back in her pelvis.”

The treatment journey was very difficult, explains Colm. “We were devastated. It was very tough on Caroline. Because of how complicated the cancer was, it took weeks for them to come up with a treatment plan. The waiting around was awful. She was eventually put on quite a severe plan of targeted chemo and radiation to try shrink the tumours and then they would proceed to surgery. Christmas 2019, our last Christmas together, was really hard. She went in for surgery on the 9th of January 2020 and between then and her passing in the August, she barely spent any time at home. Her surgery was extensive, a section of her colon was removed, her bladder was gone, she had a full hysterectomy – but the vaginal cancer had spread, not shrunk. Despite all of that, Caroline was just so belligerent about how she was going to get through it all. Throughout all of her cancer experiences, she said ‘I’m going to live until I’m 114’. Then Covid hit.”

As Covid restrictions came in, Caroline had no visitors for three months. “March, April and May – I didn’t get to see her at all. The only connection I had with her was dropping off a bag in reception. That was the cruelest thing about Covid – the time we lost. By the end of July, doctors said there was nothing more they could do for her. We were obviously devastated by that news, but there was also anger there. What was the point of putting her through all that treatment, all that pain, if we were going to lose her anyway? For her birthday, on the 1st of August, I had arranged a video of birthday wishes from a load of Irish celebrities, rugby players, comedians and so on – we loved the rugby and used to go to all the games. She died on the 17th of August, that’s her sister’s birthday. Covid meant that the funeral was small – she’d have loved that, she hated fuss and being the centre of attention. But we walked through her hometown and there was a huge guard of honour and she got a great send off.”

A year after his wife’s death, Colm became a volunteer driver for the Irish Cancer Society. “When I look back, the support Caroline and myself got from the Irish Cancer Society was brilliant. The Daffodil Centre in Cork at the very beginning of her first diagnosis, they just explained things and put us at ease and they were so easy to talk to. I knew about the Patient Travel Service and after we lost Caroline, it was something I wanted to do to give back. I can tell you, it has been the best form of therapy I could ever have asked for. The chat, the craic and the relationship you build with people is just so unique. I’ve been through what they’re going through now. If they want to chat, I’m there for  a chat. If they just want to relax and listen to music, I’m a great DJ as well! My own mother, who has had cancer herself, always supported Daffodil Day, and being a part of this organisation and a part of being there for patients when they need it, it’s incredibly rewarding and I love doing it. The supports they offer and the work they do, it just isn’t possible without the public’s generous donations and I would certainly encourage anybody to get involved and be part of Daffodil Day, there’s nothing else like it.”