Caroline retired after 20 years in pastoral care at Crofton School in Fareham, Hampshire. But just one month later, she was diagnosed with a brain tumour, which turned out to be an aggressive and incurable oligodendroglioma. Two years later, Caroline’s death brought heartbreak to husband Chris and their sons Jess and Harry.
Here is Caroline’s story, as told by her son Jess…
In 2022, Mum had a lengthy period of feeling quite unwell. Doctors were unsure of the cause, with some suggesting it could be long COVID. She was experiencing random bouts of sickness and light-headedness. Mum even fainted in June that year, leading us to call an ambulance. The doctors thought she might have had a stroke, but an MRI scan revealed she had a brain tumour.
It was such a shock. I was due to move for work to New York just a few days later, so I pushed that back, initially by four weeks.
Devastatingly, we were told the tumour looked like a glioblastoma and that Mum had a survival prognosis of just three to six months. I managed to put my move to the US on hold.
After surgery, we received a very brief email from the hospital: Brain surgery – 90%, grade 3.
But at least it gave us some hope in that Mum didn’t have a glioblastoma (which is always grade 4).
Mum’s treatment for an oligodendroglioma involved radiotherapy every day for six weeks at Southampton General Hospital, when she had to wear a horrible mask, which was so tight it forced her eyes shut.
She also had chemotherapy in tablet form, although the cycles often had to be pushed back because her platelet levels hadn’t recovered enough.
It was alarming when Mum started experiencing confusion, as she had always been so organised; always the person who would coordinate the rest of the family too.
To help with the confusion, Mum was put on steroids, but it meant she became less mobile, even though doctors kept adjusting the dosage. She also suffered memory loss.
Despite these symptoms, Mum’s scans showed that her tumour remained stable.
It felt like her treatment was such guesswork. We need to learn so much more to make treatment more effective.
I’d already discovered a lot about brain tumours and how bad outcomes for patients with the disease were. I managed to get a charity place in the 2024 TCS London Marathon and wore a giant brain costume throughout the 26.2-mile race to help raise money and awareness for Brain Tumour Research. It was sad that, although Mum came to London with Dad for the weekend, she didn’t feel well enough to cheer me on or come and greet me at the end.
Mum had a lumbar puncture one Friday in July 2024, which carries a risk of blood clots, and was discharged the same day. She wasn’t put on blood thinners.
The following Monday night, 23 July 2024, Mum passed away. Dad had called an ambulance at midnight, but there was nothing the paramedics could do. Dad ended up on his own for the rest of the night, dealing with the loss of his life partner of the last 40 years.
I had been visiting that weekend and Mum had seemed fairly fine. Her death, from what was thought to have been a blood clot, was completely out of the blue.
Ironically, when she had been in hospital just days earlier, she’d been reassuring a young man who was very anxious ahead of his own lumbar puncture.
I remember how, all the way through her treatment, Mum only cared about how it affected everyone else. Knowing there’s no cure is a harsh reality. It was tough for us all to accept, especially when there are so many medicines and treatments for other cancers.
We tried to reassure ourselves that even if the medics had been able to extend Mum’s life, her quality of life would have deteriorated, but the reality was that the blood clot had taken precious time with Mum away from us.
Nevertheless, I feel so lucky to have had my lovely mum for 31 years. It’s also made me appreciate and care for Dad more. I tell him I love him every time I see him or speak to him on the phone and I make sure he looks after himself.
Losing Mum has had a huge impact on the family and given us different perspectives on our relationships. It has made me even more determined to make a difference for brain tumour patients in the future.
In January 2025, I ran the Polar Night Half Marathon in Tromsø, Norway and, in August 2025, my friend Alex Wilcockson and I took on the Matterhorn Sky ultra-marathon 50km race. It brought my fundraising for Brain Tumour Research to £34,000 and has inspired me to set up a Fundraising Group in Mum’s memory, which I have called Caroline’s There.
Brain tumours kill more children and adults under the age of 40 than any other cancer, yet the investment into finding better outcomes remains incredibly poor. With sufficient investment, it must be possible to make a difference. I am determined that Caroline’s There will become a fitting legacy for Mum.
Jess Walklin
March 2026
One in three people in the UK knows someone affected by a brain tumour. This disease is indiscriminate; it can affect anyone at any age. What’s more, brain tumours continue to kill more children and adults under the age of 40 than any other cancer yet, to date, just 1% of the national spend on cancer research has been allocated to this devastating disease since records began in 2002.
Brain Tumour Research is determined to change this.
If you have been touched by Caroline’s story, you may like to make a donation via www.braintumourresearch.org/donate or leave a gift in your will via www.braintumourresearch.org/legacy
Together we will find a cure.
