Shortly after the festival of stress that was applying for tickets, my husband Andy began to lose weight rapidly. In November, he was diagnosed with advanced colorectal cancer. I thought the oncologist was talking in terms of months when he told us, but Andy immediately started thinking like a poker player to work out how to improve his odds of living as long as possible. Bloodied but not beaten, getting to this year’s Glastonbury has been our main aim.
Despite months of treatment, Andy’s tumours remain inoperable, and because of the chemo, he has no feeling in his feet and hands, muscle weakness, and is extremely sensitive to the sun. Which made slogging around the site when it got muddy difficult. But with the help of a walking stick and his mate Keith (who got a free ticket as Andy’s assistant) he managed six miles on the first day, his first exercise since starting treatment.
Our daughter, Daisy, has a complex disability and uses a wheelchair, so we’ve always been aware of the facilities here, but this year we realised how incredible the access for people is. There is a shuttle bus from the disabled campsite directly to the stages, and if you hit the right spot you can party like a VIP. Andy and Keith left the crowds at Arcadia on Friday night for Club de Fromage where they had the entire disabled viewing platform to themselves. The only downside was that we’d managed to arrange something on Andy’s bucket list: meeting his favourite band, the Foo Fighters, and watching them from the side of the Pyramid stage. We’re going to have to wait to cross that one off for now. They’re playing in Amsterdam in November, so that’s our next target.
Since Andy was diagnosed, it’s been so tough. This has been the focus, but we don’t intend it to be our last Glastonbury together. We weren’t even daring to think that we could come next year. But Andy thinks he can live for five more years. Four more Glastonburys!
Stephanie Nimmo writes about disability and her family at wasthisintheplan?
