
Isobel
Nan raised me after my parents separated. She was my rock, my best friend, the person who made everything feel safe. So when she was diagnosed with bowel cancer, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath me.
I was sixteen. My friends were worrying about GCSEs and parties. I was learning how to manage medication schedules and sitting in hospital waiting rooms. I did not resent it — I loved Nan fiercely — but I was scared. Scared of losing her, scared of getting something wrong, scared of being alone.
A teacher referred me to the young carers service at Carers in Luton. The workers there treated me like a normal teenager, not a patient or a case file. They helped me keep up with school, gave me a space to talk about my feelings, and connected me with other young people who were going through something similar. Nan passed away last year, but the support I received during that time shaped who I am today.