James - How to Live When You Could Be Dead

Deborah James worked in education for 15 years as a deputy head teacher, where she led national research into growth mindsets in schools. At the age of 35, life with her young children and husband was thrown upside down when she was diagnosed with stage 4, incurable bowel cancer. She responded by starting a blog, bowel babe, which became the award-winning, weekly column in the Sun online, Things Cancer Made Me Say. Over the five years that followed, she campaigned tirelessly for better awareness and funding for bowel cancer, cheered on by over 700k followers on Instagram (@bowelbabe ), and presented chart-topping podcasts You, Me and the Big C for BBCs Radio 5 Live and The Good Stuff, which she hosted with her children. In May 2022, Deborah was personally awarded a damehood by the Duke of Cambridge, after she and her family announced the launch of the Bowelbabe Fund for Cancer Research UK and raised more than 6 million within a week.

To Hugo, Eloise and Sebastien, for always helping me to find rebellious hope, even when I thought I had none left.

There are times in your life when you meet someone who you know, deep down inside, will make the world a better place. Who will do anything to make you feel happier and more hopeful and fill every day with joy. Deborah is one of those people. Deborah is my friend.

We first met when she was a guest on my radio show. It was clear to me that she had so much to offer, so I asked her if she would like to come on the programme as often as she could. She said that due to her bowel cancer she couldnt commit to anything, as she was living day to day not week to week. But aided by medical treatments, her zest for life and, of course, her fighting spirit, she came back again and again. She phoned in live from her 10ks and marathons, she brought her family along, she joined us at the mens singles final at Wimbledon, but, most importantly, we became friends.

Since then, we have had lots of memorable chats. One that I vividly remember is when she told me how joyous it was for her to have things written in her diary for future dates, as she never imagined shed be able to do that again. Weve often discussed her treatments, how shes coping, the different things shes being asked to do on TV and radio, but shes mostly wanted to talk about her family. They were, and continue to be, her life. They bring her joy, and she wants to make every single second with them count. For them and for herself. But despite her own problems, she never forgets to ask about my father, who has survived bowel cancer. She always tells me to send him her love.

Deborah loves to dance. She always wanted to be on Strictly Come Dancing , but she didnt need to do that to be able to show everyone that music and dance fill her with happiness and help her get through her treatments. Its never just been about her; its always been about making sure that we all feel that hope and happiness too.

Since being diagnosed, Deborah has been desperate to get the word out about bowel cancer and to tell anyone who will listen that it can affect you at any age. She has openly discussed all the issues surrounding her illness, and she has helped lift some of the taboos around talking about bowel cancer. For far too many years, broadcasters would creep around the subject of bowels and poo and bottoms and symptoms, but not Deborah. Shes loud and wants everyone to listen and take notice. Shes changed awareness. Shes changed perceptions. And shes changed peoples thoughts and beliefs.

Deborah has also created a cancer community through her social media, which has helped people to feel that they are not alone. That they no longer need to feel so scared. That they can have rebellious hope and she has been the one holding everyone together.

The last phone call we had was on a beautiful sunny day. We laughed about trying to work out what song we would dance to together in one of our gardens in the sun to embarrass our husbands. She shared with me how ill she really was. I was heartbroken, yet she still made me feel hope. The fact that she has wrung every last ounce out of life is testament to her determination to make every second count her fashion range, the rose being named after her and, of course, this book are all testament to that.

As someone who adores the bones of this magnificent woman, I cannot tell you how difficult this has been to write, but also what an honour it was to be asked by Deborah to do it. Her laughter and light will live on in us all for a very long time. Let none of us forget to keep hope in our hearts and joy in our days, because thats what she has always wanted. So, Deborah, I promise I will always shout about you from the rooftops. In fact, who needs shouting? I am going to sing loudly and dance around with a huge smile on my face every time I think about my darling, beautiful friend.

Gaby Roslin

June 2022

I started to write this book when I was still feeling relatively healthy and my cancer was progressing slowly. However, as I came to the end of the writing process, my health had deteriorated, and I realised that I probably wouldnt be around to see it published. Rather than go back and change what Ive written, Ive decided to leave things as they are. This means that, on occasion, what I say comes from the perspective of thinking that I still had a significant amount of time ahead of me. I have done this because I still believe in the lessons I learned and share in this book, even now when I know my time is coming to an end. I am, of course, incredibly sad that I likely wont be around when the book comes out, but I take great comfort in hoping that some of you might find it helpful.

Deborah James

June 2022

Im alive when I should be dead. In another movie, I missed the sliding door and departed this wondrous life long ago. Like so many others living with an incurable condition, Ive had to learn to live not knowing if I have a tomorrow, because, statistically, I shouldnt have.

At the age of 35, at the tail end of 2016 on a dark, rainy Friday evening just before Christmas, I was blindsided by a diagnosis of incurable cancer. My change in bowel habits turned out to be a 6.5-cm tumour and, as each month progressed, so too did my cancer. Lung tumours, liver tumours, inoperable tumours Tumour Whack-a-mole is the worst game ever invented.

The way I approach adversity is my greatest weapon.

I was initially given a less than 8 per cent chance of surviving five years. Writing this book, more than five years later, I have no choice but to live in the now. To value one day at a time, just one, because my tomorrows arent guaranteed. And neither are yours.

Im a teacher. I always have been, both in my soul and in my career, which cancer has also taken from me. Ive now been out of the classroom for more than five years since that life-changing, world-crumbling diagnosis, but, during that time, I have faced the steepest learning curve of my life. And the drive to learn, to educate, to inspire has become even stronger its now just via different platforms: my Bowelbabe blog, national TV appearances, the BBC Radio 5 Live podcast You, Me and the Big C , a column in the Sun , charity work and, of course, all of the efforts Ive made to raise awareness of bowel cancer via my social media channels.

I spend most of my life wanting to escape my incurable bowel cancer, yet there isnt a day that goes by when its not on my mind. I have loved harder and lost harder than I ever knew possible. I have said goodbye to too many loved ones Ive met on this journey those who wanted just one more second, like Rachael Bland, my wonderful co-host on the podcast who became a true friend and someone I cherished, even though I wish it wasnt cancer that brought us together. It is in their names that I choose to be positive when it would be so easy to give up, and it is because of this that I feel totally alive. I live knowing they would give anything for more life. And so would I.