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Carolyn’s Story

Carolyn was a devoted wife and mother who discovered her academic career later in life, following an earlier love for books. 

After marrying her husband David, Carolyn gave birth to two sons, and was delighted to become a mother.  She ran the family home whilst they grew up, and as they became more independent looked to kick start her working life which culminated as Head of Department of the new Study Advice Service at the University of Hull, which facilitated the progression of ‘A’ level students into tertiary education there. It was her passion. While there, she gained a Doctorate in Education. 

After retiring, Carolyn was asked to join the Board of Governors at the leading local independent school.

But Carolyn was more than just her career. Her family, Scotland and Labradors were always part of her life, as were daffodils, for ever her favourite flower.

Carolyn’s legacy, amongst many, is to share her journey with cancer and the lessons she learnt navigating ‘a path not chosen’.

Life and Background

Carolyn Rhodes was born in 1946, to loving parents and an older sister,  she exhibited interests in art and ballet at an early age, married young and reignited a successful career later in life.  

Carolyn attended The Convent of the Ladies of St Mary in Scarborough, and after leaving school and a period as a trainee librarian, she joined Burmah Oil.  Newly established in Scarborough to explore for North Sea oil and natural gas, Carolyn’s role was to support the seismic interpreters. During this time, she met her future husband David, and they were married in 1967, some three months short of her 21st birthday.

When Burmah Oil closed, Carolyn became secretary to Charles McCarthy of McCain Foods of Canada who were establishing a factory in Scarborough. She stayed until shortly before the birth of her first son Andrew in 1969.

Carolyn focussed entirely on bringing up her two sons, managing and running the family home. Her career was put on hold and the family put first, something that was not a difficult decision for her as she had always wanted to be a mother, but not always an easy task. 

The family had a number of Labradors too, who were treated very much as part of the family, and loved to walk them in the countryside.  Carolyn has been brought up from a young age with Labradors, missed their company and wanted the same for her family.

Holidays were most often to the Lake District, and particularly Scotland, a place with which Carolyn felt a strong affinity.  But her favourite pastime was walking the dogs at Ravenscar, just north of Scarborough, overlooking Robin Hood’s Bay, and a view she could never seem to see too many times.

As her sons grew up, Carolyn’s working career re-commenced by managing the computerisation of office systems of a long-standing firm of insurance brokers where her husband David was the principal partner.  It was a task for which her early training as a librarian proved ideal, and a few years later she oversaw a computer system’s upgrade.

In the late 1980’s her academic career commenced with a part-time evening appointment at Yorkshire Coast College library.  Thereafter Carolyn was appointed Administrator and ran a Marine and Coastal Sciences forum at University College, Scarborough, then under the auspices of York University, along with the associated discipline network funded by the former Department for Education and Employment.

While Carolyn was arranging and organizing conferences bringing together government, business and industry at various locations around the UK, she also found time to expand her qualifications.  She studied for and became a Licentiate of the Chartered Institute of Personnel & Development (LicCPID), gained her MBA in Human Resource Management (HRM) at The University of Hull, and was elected Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts, Manufactures & Commerce (FRSA).  

Carolyn was appointed Head of Department of the new Study Advice Service at the University of Hull, one of the first of its kind under a government initiative to facilitate the progress from “A” level study at secondary schools to that required in tertiary education at university level.   Despite reservations from other University staff, she made it a widely respected success whilst also gaining her doctorate  along the way.

Shortly after retiring in 2004, Carolyn was recruited onto the Board of Governors at Scarborough College, a local independent school.  She resigned from the Board in 2014 when diagnosed with breast cancer, from which Carolyn recovered.  It was at a post recovery check-up that she was diagnosed as having ovarian cancer.

Although Carolyn then led a relatively normal life for the first three years with periodic treatments by chemotherapy, the latter three years necessitated repeated chemotherapy, ultimately resulting in her admission to St Catherine’s Hospice in late November, where she died on 13th December 2020.

All through her illness Carolyn faced the inevitable end of life with great courage, and wrote a journal entitled “A Path Not Chosen – Walking in a Cancer World”. 

Carolyn’s idea was that her journal could be a handbook with some practical tips and advice she wished she had been told to help guide her on her journey with cancer. Her wish was that it be published after her death.

The journal which is now published, and can be bought here, is intended for those living with cancer and becoming stronger than before, for those newly diagnosed with cancer, those struggling to adjust, and for those carers or professionals looking to learn from personal experience. 

Her motto always was:

Accept what is, let go of what was, and have faith in what will be.
A Time to Just . . . Be

Excerpts

‘Stunned’ just does not do justice to our joint reaction. Then the new reality suddenly hit me hard: ‘Cancer! I have cancer. By the time we returned to our parked car, the immediate shock had turned into floods of tears. The reality had kicked in and I could not stop shaking, and sobbed uncontrollably. It truly is a blessing that we do not know what lies ahead: our ignorance means we go on blundering through life and just have to cope as best we can. No one would take the path I was on out of choice. 

No one wants to hear the news that they have cancer. It is a cruel blow that leaves many of us reeling. All of a sudden, your body is harbouring an alien, a killer, which you cannot control. The shock can be devastating, and uncertainty about the future can rear its ugly head, affecting your behaviour and outlook. Disbelief, fear and anger can all come into play, and each patient will react differently and take their own time to process the unwanted diagnosis. Within a short time, a treatment plan of action will be put in place and, in my experience, this gives you back an element of control. Once you know about the way ahead, the terror can recede, although the effects can remain for some time and that dark cloud is never far away. It takes time to acknowledge that you have cancer and that you are now a cancer patient. With support, patience and time, the trauma of diagnosis can diminish. But one never forgets the moment when the news was delivered.

Once the trauma of diagnosis and treatment has subsided, things settle back to normal. Or do they? What was normal before is no longer appropriate, so you may need to work on finding a new normal that will help you adapt to living your life with cancer. There is bereavement in the mix, too. Bereavement for a lost way of life, one that was not driven by medical appointments, and limited by surgery or medication, or low physical, or psychological, energy. Coming to terms with the ‘new you’ will take time and patience for everyone. But when acceptance does come to you, there will be less stress and more energy with which to build a new future. Perhaps it will not be the one you had originally planned and looked forward to, but a future nonetheless. Acceptance is an important step, and one that allows you to move forward.

Learning to live with cancer changes everything. You are walking a path you have not chosen, but you must keep walking, taking one step at a time. Inevitably this requires a period of readjustment to cope with any changes needed to adapt to living with cancer. Only through reflection, after acceptance, can a new ‘normal’ be established. Reflecting on the situation, the limitations, the difficulties and the identification of priorities, can enable you to make progress. Reflection does not necessarily require a long period, or formal, organised thoughts. In fact, occasional snatched quiet moments can be a more natural and effective way to reflect. Odd moments occur in daily life; for example, while you are relaxing in a bath, walking the dog, or queueing for a bus. These can be spontaneous opportunities for quiet reorganisation of thought. To consider what has happened and how this will affect you, your family, your life, and your future, is a way of getting back some control. Considering your options, or new ways of living life to the full, is a powerful tool for positive change. Reflection feeds reprioritisation, and this leads to pointers or signposts for the best way forward while living with cancer.

Once you have been diagnosed with cancer, and had the appropriate treatment, it is common to live in fear of a recurrence. In many cases, once the surgery and/or treatment has finished, that is thankfully the end of the problem. But in some cases (my own is a prime example), the cancer can reoccur. It may, or may not, reappear in the same place; it can also jump ship and turn up in random places. It brings a fear like no other. For example, in my case the tumour was in the ovary, but it has reappeared at the back of the stomach, the pelvis, and on the liver. It likes to spread its favours around, obviously. It came as quite a blow, despite my knowing that it could happen. Without wanting to overcomplicate the story, my breast cancer and the ovarian cancer were not linked, although one might be forgiven for thinking that they could be. Both were hormone-related cancers, but totally independent. As one medic casually remarked, ‘You’ve just been unlucky.’

If you are as close to a cancer diagnosis as is humanly possible without receiving one yourself, the chances are that you may lose someone who does not just mean something to you, but means the world to you, or, is your world. This story is not just about living with cancer; this is about living with someone who is living with cancer. As well as there being a path not chosen for the cancer patient, it is important to acknowledge the impact of cancer on carers and tell their side of the story too.

Accept what is, let go of what was,
and have faith in what will be.
A Time to Just . . . Be

Carolyn Rhodes