Ippy Ever After is a story of courage and determination against all the odds.<br><br>The story takes you from Martin's initial diagnosis with cancer and follows his life for three years. It is a rollercoaster of heartache, betrayal and an almost insurmountable battle to get the expensive drug that could save his life.<br><br>With no option but to go it alone he embarks on a public campaign to highlight his and other sufferers plight.<br><br>In a race against time, he and a handful of brave cancer patients tell their stories and force an incredible u-turn by the government in the full glare of the media spotlight.
Оглавление
Martin Jr. McMahon. Ippi Ever After
Chapter One. Crazy Mad, Crazy Bad
Chapter Two. Trouble and Strife
Chapter Three. Fight and Flight
Chapter Four. Interferon, Interfering, Isolation
Chapter Five. A tale of two Dads
Chapter Six. Confusion and Contagion
Chapter Seven. Of Masks and Mirrors
Chapter Eight. Fury
Chapter Nine. Shark Bite
Chapter Ten. Money, Money, Money
Chapter Eleven. A Man U Day
Chapter Twelve. Nothing To Do With It
Chapter Thirteen. Hello Joe
Chapter Fourteen. It Got Legs
Chapter Fifteen. The Pressure Mounts
Chapter Sixteen. A Sure Thing
Chapter Seventeen. Just Keep Swimming
Отрывок из книги
I don’t ever remember a time when there wasn’t some sort of pet in my childhood home and often more than one. We had cats, dogs, budgies, fish, even a crazy rabbit who liked to nip at visitors ankles. We also had unintentional pets, strays or injured animals that might or might not stay or even survive. The back garden always had a few little graves where we buried the ones that died. We had more cats over the years than anything else. A handful were killed on the road and some by natural causes. The first time I encountered cancer close up was in a cat. Kitsy was her name, not very original I know, but she was a stray that turned up at the front door one wet and windy night, so we didn’t know if she was staying. Kitsy was an interim name that stuck. She was probably an unwanted pet that some one left on the doorstep intentionally. We were known as a house that took strays and she wasn’t the first or last to find her way to us. Some one of us heard her crying outside and took her in. She was jet black with a small white patch on the front of her neck. She was small enough to fit comfortably in one open hand, maybe six or seven weeks old. She was a born survivor. She out lasted every other cat we ever had because she was quick to learn. She stayed away from the road and ingratiated herself with the five of us kids and mam and dad. She was with us for at least a decade. Then she had difficulty eating. Initially the vet thought it was a tooth problem but it only got worse. I took care of her when she couldn’t eat. I spoon fed her through her teeth because her jaw wouldn’t open and cleaned her face with a j cloth afterwards . No self respecting cat would let you do such a thing so we knew there was something more to the problem. Dad and I took her to the Royal Veterinary Hospital where they anesthetized her and did an x-ray. The vet there told us she had cancer in her jaw and that the humane thing to do was not wake her up. I was very attached to that cat, we all were, she was part of the family. The vet made sure she didn’t wake up and we went home. I’m not embarrassed to say I cried on the way.
Its half past midnight, another day has begun. Chemotherapy sits on the kitchen counter top, two steps away. All day it calls to me, ‘little pig, little pig, let me in’. I don’t want to, but I will, soon. I have to.
.....
A tall bloke dressed in green with white clogs arrived with a porter. They had negotiated their way through the corridors and into the room with a trolley.
“Can you make it up there yourself” the gentle green giant asked.
