Harry Martin from Wiltshire was 24 when he was diagnosed in April 2020 with a rare and aggressive glioblastoma. A biomedical science graduate who had completed his final-year university research project on glioblastoma, Harry immediately understood the severity of his condition.
Unusually, his tumour first presented in his spine, a rare manifestation of a cancer that typically begins in the brain. Surgeons were unable to remove it due to its location, and despite radiotherapy, chemotherapy and exhaustive exploration of alternative and international treatment options, Harry’s condition declined. He married his childhood sweetheart, Sinead, in March 2021 and died at home in Swindon on 16 May 2021. Through remarkable fundraising efforts, his family has since donated £34,000 from Harry’s Healing Fund in Harry’s memory to advance brain tumour research.
Here is Harry’s story, as told by his wife Sinead and mum Eileen…
Harry and I knew each other from the age of 13. We started dating at 15. We grew up together.
Harry studied biomedical science at university and, ironically, studied glioblastoma as a topic during one of his final year modules. When he received his diagnosis in April 2020, he knew instantly how serious it was. While we were trying to stay positive and thinking there must be a way, he had studied it he understood the statistics and knew what it meant.
Harry enjoyed his job at Honda, but after being made redundant, he set his sights on the Army. He worked incredibly hard on his maths to give himself the best options in his entry exam. He passed with flying results and chose to train as an aircraft technician. He threw himself into physical training. That focus gave him structure and pride.
A committed gym-goer used to lifting very heavy weights, it wasn’t unusual for him to have back pain and so, when it started in 2020, we assumed it was an injury he’d picked up at the gym. He tried stretching, hot baths and rest. Nothing worked. He was prescribed naproxen. The pain worsened.
What none of us knew was that Harry’s glioblastoma was rare; it first presented in his spine, whereas it normally presents in the brain and can travel to the spine.
Looking back, he had experienced spasms at university. He had gone to the GP and was dismissed with common explanations such as a slipped disc. During COVID, he couldn’t get face-to-face appointments with his GP.
Eventually Harry was referred for reflex tests, which he failed. He was then sent urgently for MRI scans at Great Western Hospital. It was a worrying time and because of pandemic restrictions, we couldn’t be with him.
At first, Harry texted to say nothing significant had been found. We were all confused by this because of the severe pain he was in. Then another doctor intervened and they consulted with John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford and transferred him immediately. We later learned that when he arrived, they told him it was cancer. He didn’t tell us straight away. He wanted to protect us.
Harry agreed to a biopsy and we were allowed to see him just before surgery. That was the last time we saw him walking upright and unaided. He underwent a seven-hour biopsy, but sadly, after surgery, he rapidly lost sensation from the waist down and never walked unaided again.
Harry was pleased to be home after his operation; it gave him a sense of normality being in his own environment. But there were difficulties. We had to get the house adapted on his return to make things more comfortable for him, which included a stair lift, a wet room and a wheelchair.
From being extremely fit and passing his Army entrance exam to losing all independence was devastating. He struggled deeply with depression.
Radiotherapy and chemotherapy began in June. And it was hard going but Harry refused to give up mentally.
He had purchased a journal with the intention that when he started in the Army, he would document his training; now he was using that journal two or three times a day to document his journey.
Harry read about meditation, healing and mindset. He loved Dr Joe Dispenza’s work about rebuilding through the power of the mind. He replaced the physical strength he had lost with mental resilience.
With physiotherapy, we began to see hope. First toes wiggling, then small foot movements, then lifting his lower leg. It was incredible. Harry then underwent radiotherapy and chemotherapy. It was hard going but he embraced it and gave it his best shot. Because he could no longer drive, patient transport collected him daily to take him for his appointments. It gave him the structure that he needed to keep him focused.
We went back to hospital for routine appointments and the scans initially showed the tumour had shrunk. But that November, just seven months after his diagnosis, we received a phone call to say that the tumour was active again. Even with further radiotherapy and chemotherapy treatment Harry might only have eight months to live.
We were crushed, Harry knew what this meant and he went out into the garden to be alone. As he left, he told us that he loved us all.
Harry started radiotherapy again and during that treatment he completed a six-mile wheelchair challenge of raising £8,000 for the Teenage and Young Adult Cancer Trust. He refused help, even up hills. It was a proud moment.
We searched desperately for clinical trials. Because his case was so rare, he didn’t qualify. We raised £100,000 for alternative treatments and consulted US specialists, sourcing medication from Europe, and had video calls with consultants at CeGat in Germany to explore immunotherapy. Nothing worked.
Then in December 2020, Harry proposed, and on 25th March 2021, we married at home. Two days later, we held a spiritual hand-tying celebration on Zoom with loved ones. Harry said it was the happiest day of his life. It felt like a slice of heaven in the middle of a nightmare.
After that, Harry began to rapidly decline. He prepared us for the end. He gave us his journals. He shared his wisdom. He told us to live fully and not let cancer steal more than it already had.
Harry died on 16th May 2021 at home surrounded by loved ones.
Harry struggled with purpose. He felt insignificant and believed legacy was important. When he was given his prognosis, he worried there would be little to remember him by in terms of impact. But he was so wrong.
He left a legacy of love, patience and wisdom. He would tell everyone to be kind to themselves, ground themselves in the present, and grab every opportunity with both hands.
Harry was the bravest person I have ever known. Even when he understood exactly how serious his diagnosis was, he faced it with courage and honesty. He tried to protect all of us from the fear he was carrying, and he continued to guide and inspire us right until the end.
Sadly, the loss of Harry is not my only experience of the disease. A college friend, Isaac, 26, survived just nine months after treatment for a brain tumour. My grandfather, in his late 80s, experienced slow-progressing dementia for several years followed by a fall and suspected stroke, which led to an MRI. The results of the MRI later revealed a brain tumour the size of a tennis ball. He died six weeks after being diagnosed with a glioblastoma.
We recently donated £35,000 from Harry’s Healing Fund and laid 12 tiles on the Wall of Hope at the Scottish Brain Tumour Research Centre of Excellence in Harry’s memory. It means everything to us. It’s a permanent reminder that Harry was here, that he mattered, and that his legacy is helping to create change.
On each one of the 12 tiles is a different quote from Harry in his own words - excerpts taken from the wisdom discovered in his journals and Facebook posts. He wanted the lessons he learned about life to be his gift and legacy to others, and now, we find his words our inspiration to live by and hope that by sharing them like this, they’ll provide comfort and inspiration to others as Harry would have wanted.
Those tiles represent love, strength and hope and they ensure that his story will continue to inspire others for years to come.
Sinead Nolan - Martin and Eileen Martin
February 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 inspired by Harry’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
