When Mary Weller was diagnosed with incurable cancer...

We are best known for its end-of-life care, but support begins much earlier - from the moment of diagnosis. Through services like complementary therapies, counselling, and wellbeing groups, we help patients manage the emotional and physical impact of serious illness, offering space for calm, connection, and moments of relief.

Mary, 65, was working as a teaching assistant and enjoying an active lifestyle - running 5k three times a week, line dancing, and looking forward to a busy retirement with her husband Ian. But since July last year she had been feeling very unwell and in October felt unable to continue working so resigned. She was struggling with sleep, breathlessness, and fatigue. Doctors investigated possible causes, including sleep apnoea. Just a week after leaving school she was hospitalised and told she had cancer.

“You can’t imagine what it’s like to be diagnosed with cancer – it just feels so massive when you’re at the start of it all,” said Mary. “I was put in touch with ellenor very early because over the Christmas period they could support me 24 hours a day if required.”

Doctors found cancer in Mary’s lung, with secondary tumours in her liver. It wasn’t curable, but it was treatable. ellenor stepped in to help Mary navigate life with new limitations and challenges.

“I was brought up to just get on with life,” she said. “I never smoked, and I had no reason to think I had cancer. I’d probably had it for years, but because I was otherwise fit and healthy, no one had checked my chest.”

Mary, who lives in New Barn, had always been aware of ellenor’s end-of-life care, but hadn’t realised the charity also offered ongoing support for people living with serious illnesses.

“The Wellbeing side gives you the here and now,” she said. “When I was diagnosed, I wasn’t immediately terminally ill, so where did I fit in? ellenor gives you a different set of parameters.”

Mary was initially unsure about trying massage. “I had so much going on and didn’t know which way was up,” she said. “I trained as a complementary therapist years ago and knew the benefits, but this was completely different.”

In time, she realised it was exactly what she needed. “In the middle of all the complicated language and appointments, it was an oasis – somewhere where we didn’t have to talk about anything at all. It was a moment of sanity in what felt like madness.”

Mary’s massage sessions were with ellenor’s senior complementary therapist Sally Baker. The charity offers three free sessions to patients, and Mary also joins Sally’s weekly online meditation group.

“Meditation was something I’d never tried before, and I was quite sceptical,” said Mary. “But Sally takes us on a journey. You relax parts of your body, then she takes you somewhere like a beach or a forest. That’s all you’re thinking about, and it really helps you switch off.”

These therapies give Mary a break from the constant reminders of her diagnosis. “Friends ask how I feel, and you go through it all so many times. In that massage room at ellenor, that didn’t happen. There was no need for long conversations. I was so relaxed I fell asleep.

Mary is currently on targeted therapy in the form of daily pills, designed to prevent further cell mutation and shrink her tumours. She has monthly blood tests and three-monthly scans.

Her husband Ian, a retired police officer, has scaled back his work to spend more time with her. They have two grown-up children, Lindsey and Gary, and two granddaughters.

“We didn’t know exactly what retirement would look like, but we were both fit and had planned to explore the country,” said Mary. “Now we’re making the most of the time we have.”

“On treatment I actually feel better than I did two years ago. There are limitations, but we’re trying to enjoy ourselves and find moments of joy. We bought electric bikes – that’s my new fitness regime.”

She’s also returned to piano lessons, which she began a year ago. Her teacher, Claire Lawton, plays on The Green at ellenor once a month as part of the Music Matters programme.

“It would be easy to say ‘woe is me,’ but that’s just not the person I am,” said Mary.