Ben

I have always been interested in the human condition and stories of human challenges and endeavours. It’s probably the reason why I’m such a fan of Desert Island Discs, rather than focus on finding ‘celebrities’ Kirsty Young interviews pioneers in all sorts of industries, I love hearing their passion for their subject and the stories of adversity that they had to overcome in order to achieve their success. I often imagine myself being interviewed (better do something miraculous, quickly!). Towards the end when the interviewee is asked ‘how do you think you would fare if you were stranded on a desert island?’ I always assumed my answer would be, ‘no problem, I love my own company and with some of my favourite tunes I’m sure I’d have a lovely time until someone rescued me.’

Turns out you learn a lot about your true self with this cancer business. Last week I booked myself on a very last minute retreat in India for 10 days. One of the rules that drew me to Vana is a complete ban on electronics outside of the bedroom. Brilliant. I had decided early on that whilst I was taking my iPad and phone it was only for emergencies and what I would do is ban electronics completely. 

I’m now day four into the retreat and I’m already failing miserably at my self imposed ban. It turns out I don’t like too much of my own company and I’m missing friends and family. Not to any extent that I want to leave, believe me I’m in heaven here but there is a huge amount of time to reflect and when I do I miss the people who have been there for me the most this year and no one more so than Ben. 

As time progresses with my illness I have found that some friends slowly start to check in less often or show less of an interest in what’s going on, it’s no criticism, I understand it, this is a long old battle and everyone has their own lives to lead, I’m not their priority. I still love them and owe an incalculable debt to them.

But as I sit and contemplate everything I know that the person who I’ve relied on most, shouted at most, cried to most and hugged the most throughout this is my brother, Ben. These days I find it difficult to think about him without crying. I don’t know how I became so soft! 

You see the thing is, I didn’t really know it until I got ill but it turns out I have the the best brother in the world (I want to say #brothergoals for anyone that does all that hastagging business but in doing so I have no doubt I’ll get a message shortly from my friend at work, Hollie, to tell me I’m not young enough or cool enough to know how to use a hashtag…she’s right of course). 

Growing up we fought at times. I used to pin him down, slap him in the face, lock him in cupboards or smother him in a duvet (he holds me solely responsible for his crippling fear of claustrophobia). The problem with older sisters is sometimes they forget that boys grow into bigger, stronger beings than themselves. This was a painful lesson to learn once I hit my teenage years and my brother developed a flare for rugby. 

Still we’ve always been close. When I chose my university I picked Bristol because I knew Ben was moving to school there to pursue his rugby. Education took less of a consideration over knowing I would be near him and could still go to watch all his home matches. I always loved watching him play rugby, it probably harps back to my original point, I love seeing people thrive and excel. Ben was that guy, he had a talent. I’d burst with pride sat on the sideline overhearing people complement how good he was. I wanted to boast to all of them that that was my brother. 

Several injuries amongst other things hampered Ben’s rugby career and after he left Colstons School we saw less of each other as I stayed in Bristol and he moved back to Devon, then university in Newcastle, then on to London. For 10 years we would probably only see each other a handful of times a year. Still we were brought up to remember that whatever happened we would have each other and we should never lose sight of that. Ill be honest, before my illness it was largely me bailing him out, not that I ever minded. It always came with some sort of drama or story (never his fault of course) which always made me laugh. 

As a boy he was a bit of a hot head. I still remember when he was about 8 and we were in a Tae Kwon Do tournament, Ben couldn’t get his head around minimal contact sparring. He kept hitting the other boy hard and getting blown up for fouling. In the end he argued with the umpire, threw his gloves to the floor and stormed off. It was a classic John McEnroe style episode, I almost want to believe that at one point he shouted ‘you cannot be serious’ but I don’t think he did. Whilst the drama unfolded I was sat with mum witnessing her grow more and more embarrassed by his behaviour. By the time he walked off she whispered to me ‘come on let’s get out of here before they know he is my son’. This story still makes me laugh whenever I think about it. 

As a man he is certainly much calmer, (more so than me in any case!). He has grown into a beautiful human being inside and out. He still has his selfish moments and will ditch anyone if he thinks he can have more fun elsewhere but that’s part of his, at times, hedonistic nature. 

If you want to find Ben in a pub you’ll likely hear his laugh before you see him, look for the biggest group of people then go to the centre of it. That’s where he will be. Not because he is brash or loud but because he is likeable. He has one of those rare qualities, girls want to be with him and boys want to be like him. He has never had a problem making friends which is how he has become the most well connected person I know, particularly as he has come from a family who really knows no one!

He is a natural leader, before university he went to college to study sports science, during his time there he was asked to teach disabled kids how to play sports. They all loved him because he included everyone, it didn’t matter who they were or what disability they had he made sure everyone was involved. Parents of the disabled children would thank him for the positive impact he was having on those children’s lives. Another proud sister moment. 

Academically Ben always struggled and constantly put himself down because he could see academia came easier for me. The truth is my brother is an incredibly smart guy but I suspect unfortunately he was one of many people who slipped through the net at school and suffers from undiagnosed dyslexia. His written work never does him justice. I know this because I have witnessed him in his current job. He knows how to control a conversation, manage a project and deliver exceptional results against people much older and more experienced than him. 

I know in many ways he thinks he needs me but the reality is it’s whole heartedly the other way round.  My brother is destined for great things as soon as he starts believing in himself. 

When I found out I was ill he was first on the scene. Ever since that moment he has shown strength, bravery and comfort in ways I could only wish for. From day one he told me we were going to fight this and he’s had my back every step of the way. There have been so many times when I’ve wanted to give up but he reminds me to keep going, not just because he said so but because I so desperately want to be here for him as he continues to flourish. He’s never missed a doctors appointment, he has nursed me and housed me throughout chemo, he has cooked for me, cleaned for me and been a punch bag during my darkest moments. He has also been the rock holding my parents together too. 

In addition to all of that he set up a Just Giving page and lead the way raising funds for treatments in the future. He’s done cycle rides, walks, Tough Mudder challenges and still he’s looking for the next big event. He has been there, unconditionally, campaigning and fighting for me. 

I’ve taken him for granted at times and not really thought about what this must be like for him. I’ve tried to imagine if it was the other way round and honestly, it hurts too much. I’d much rather take this myself. The thing is I know he feels the same and whilst I would never let him, he cannot take this from me. The helplessness of that situation must be unbearable. 

So Ben, this is a thank you. I’m so so proud of the man you’ve become, I can only hope I’m here long enough to see all your achievements both professionally and personally. You are my favourite person in the whole world, never forget that. See you soon brother.

I love you.