07 Aug 2025

“Every day is one day closer. Even though it’s a drag and time is moving slowly, progress is being made every second.”

Michelle celebrating the end of the 60k walking challenge.

Leukaemia UK’s June 2025 60km Fundraising Walk raised over £40k with 75 walkers taking part – each driven by a deeply personal reason to help improve leukaemia diagnosis and treatment. Among them was Michelle Williams, for whom the challenge became far more than a fundraising mission. Taking part just over a year after her diagnosis, the walk supported a cause close to her heart and played a vital role in her recovery, helping her rebuild strength both mentally and physically after leukaemia.

“A week before my diagnosis, I’d felt completely fine,” said Michelle, 57, from Hook in Hampshire. “Then, almost overnight, I began to feel utterly exhausted. I couldn’t understand it. I hadn’t been ill, but suddenly I could barely make it up the stairs without my heart racing and needing to lie down. Within a week, even having a shower or getting dressed felt like running a marathon.”

“I contacted my GP for an appointment but was told there was a two-week wait. Over the weekend, my symptoms worsened. During a cinema trip, I struggled to walk up the steps. I knew something wasn’t right, so I called 111. They arranged an emergency GP appointment, and the doctor suspected angina. However, he advised me to go straight to Basingstoke Hospital A&E for blood tests, just to rule out anything more serious.”

Doctors took blood samples, and Michelle began to sense something was very wrong.

Michelle having her first chemo

“A nurse returned with the results, quietly placed me in a wheelchair, and took me to a side room. A short while later, a doctor explained that all of my blood counts were dangerously low. I needed an urgent blood transfusion, which was carried out overnight. The next morning, a haematology consultant appeared at the foot of my bed and gently explained he suspected blood cancer – most likely leukaemia – and that a bone marrow biopsy would be needed to confirm it.”

“I was absolutely terrified but also numb with shock. It didn’t feel real. I think my mind went into self-protection mode because I couldn’t fully process what he’d just said. Everything suddenly felt distant, like it was happening to someone else.”

The day Michelle got diagnosed

Michelle was swiftly transferred to a specialist haematology ward, where a bone marrow biopsy was carried out. On 28th April 2024, the day after her 56th birthday, she was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukaemia (AML).

“Hearing the words ‘you have leukaemia’ was terrifying. But even harder was breaking the news to my family, especially my two sons, Harvey and Elliott. I was told I’d need at least six months in hospital for chemotherapy, and possibly a stem cell transplant. That was already hard enough to take in, but after the first round of chemo, things got worse. I was told I had refractory AML with two high-risk mutations. I wasn’t responding to treatment. The leukaemia was aggressive, and the only option was even stronger, more toxic chemotherapy.”

After the second cycle, Michelle still wasn’t in remission.

“I was losing hope. During each chemo cycle, I was neutropenic and caught life-threatening infections, including sepsis, E. coli, and fungal pneumonia. I survived on daily blood and platelet transfusions and IV antibiotics. Being confined to one room felt unbearable. Nothing was going to plan, and I felt overwhelmed and powerless. My mental health began to suffer — I was consumed with fear and didn’t believe I’d survive. I put on a brave face for my family, and they did the same for me. But no one said how they really felt.”

To cope with the fear and uncertainty, Michelle turned to writing poetry to release emotions and find calm. When strong enough, she poured her energy into fundraising, sharing poems online and raising over £1,000 for Blood Cancer UK. The hospital also provided her with a counsellor who helped her “really say the truth.”

Michelle during treatment her son Elliot

“She gently guided me to reframe my thinking — to acknowledge emotions, but also to reach towards hope, even in the darkest moments. I started journaling, writing affirmations, and imagining the outcome I wanted. Poetry became a lifeline. It gave my emotions somewhere to go and helped me connect with the outside world. Sharing my poems on Facebook gave each day more meaning and helped me feel less alone. I even used healing crystals to help focus and manifest a cure. It might sound a little ‘woo woo’, but it brought comfort — and I needed all the help I could get.”

After seven months and six cycles of intense chemo, Michelle was told she was MRD negative — in remission. But doctors warned the leukaemia was aggressive and likely to return. Her only hope was a stem cell transplant.

“I was temporarily discharged in November 2024 to build strength while a donor was found. The first match fell through, which was heartbreaking. But a few weeks later, another donor was found — and I was admitted to Southampton Hospital just after Christmas to begin conditioning chemo.”

Michelle’s transplant took place on 7th February 2025.

Michelle with her mum.

“On 25th April 2025 – almost a year after diagnosis – I was finally discharged home, just in time to celebrate my 57th birthday with my family. It felt like a full-circle moment I’d never imagined reaching. I initially went back to my parents’ house. They cared for me, which felt wrong as I thought it was a time of life I should be caring for them. My 22-year-old son Elliott kept my home going until I was strong enough to return. I’d started short walks with friends in the run-up to the transplant and resumed these. It was important to be out in nature after months isolated in a small room. It built me back up mentally and physically.”

Once home, Michelle entered a period of readjustment.

“I’d had a business for 15 years teaching craft skills online and helping women start their own businesses. I couldn’t do that anymore — I didn’t have the bandwidth and my good days and bad days were still precarious. My parents battled through the benefits system for me while I was in hospital, so I had some financial support. After my first cycle failed, I honestly thought I was going to die. I wrote my Will, wound up my business and started to get my ducks in a row. But now I was in recovery. Of course, I was so grateful, but also a bit lost — who was I now, and what should I be doing with my life going ahead?”

Michelle during the 60k walking challenge in June

It was then Michelle spotted Leukaemia UK’s June 2025 60km walk fundraiser on Facebook. It was exactly the focus she needed.

“I knew every day I’d have to get up and walk, and post on Facebook, and it gave me an incredible sense of purpose. I completed the challenge and raised over £1,000. It still amazes me that just a year ago, I couldn’t even walk up the stairs. Taking part felt like a huge personal victory and reminded me how far I’ve come. It was also really important to meet others in the Facebook group who knew exactly how I was feeling, which friends and family, however well-intentioned, never can.”

Still in active treatment, Michelle has weekly blood tests at Southampton Hospital and regular blood draws to manage iron overload from her many transfusions. She continues intrathecal chemotherapy and stem cell top-ups. Despite this, Michelle has already begun her next fundraising project — a self-published ‘bucket list journal’ titled One Brave Life. The journal helps people rediscover joy and create meaningful goals after illness or life’s hardest moments, with all royalties donated to Anthony Nolan. The project has gained publicity, with Michelle interviewed by ITV and BBC. She’s now also working on a poetry collection to raise funds for Southampton Hospital.

Michelle with the special cushion her son gifted to her during treatment.

“One thing that brought immense comfort was a cushion gifted to me, printed with words my son Elliott had texted: ‘Every day is one day closer. Even though it’s a drag and time is moving slowly, progress is being made every second.’ Those words meant more than Elliott will ever know. Every time I felt lost or fragile, I’d hold that cushion, read those words, and try — however hard — to trust the process. If sharing my journey gives hope to even one person still in the fight, then it’s more than worth it.”

Michelle talks about her self-published ‘bucket list journal’ titled One Brave Life