In 2001, to celebrate his wife Caroline getting the all clear from breast cancer – and to raise money for charity – Alan McDonald had a party.
The chef and part-time DJ booked the Mugiemoss Social Club and invited friends and family for a night of fun and dancing, as well as a buffet he’d prepared himself.
Alan was also in charge of the music.
Alongside his usual ‘80s repertoire, he played a couple of Caroline’s favourite chart hits – Reach for the Stars by S-Club 7, which had come out the year before, and Proud by Heather Small.
Jump forward 22 years to last weekend.
Alan is celebrating Caroline’s defeat of her second bout of breast cancer by hosting a charity party.
This time he’s booked out the Nigg Bay Golf Club and invited even more friends and family.
The location might be different, but like last time there is a charity raffle. Alan has prepared a buffet.
And, of course, among a selection of ‘80s hits and newer pop, the playlist for the evening features a couple of old favourites – Reach for the Stars by S-Club 7 and Proud by Heather Small.
Caroline’s second battle with breast cancer was even more daunting than the first
Two parties 22 years apart. Some things stay the same. Some things don’t.
For Caroline McDonald, last weekend’s party was the second time she has celebrated being clear of breast cancer.
The first time she was 34 with two young children and no idea just how gruelling the chemo ahead would be.
But she was full of fire and motherly energy. Her focus was on making sure daughters Kimberley and Louise were looked after.
This time, the cancer has taken more.
There is the mastectomy she managed to avoid 23 years ago, for example, back in 2000 when she was first diagnosed. But also the mental and physical toll of a battle she thought she’d already won.
“It’s frightening the first time but then the second time is worse because you know what’s going on,” says Caroline, 57, from her and Alan’s home in Froghall, Aberdeen.
“And I’m 23 years older. I don’t have the energy and strength that I had the last time.”
On top of the pain was the anger. Why had the cancer come back? She had long ago passed the 10-year mark that should have put her in the clear. Tests had shown she didn’t carry the cancer gene.
“I went through all the emotions, crying and saying I can’t go through this again,” Caroline says.
“But I thought, well, you have to. For you, for your family, your children, your husband, everybody. Because I’ve got a really loving, caring family and husband.”
Dedicated husband Alan says throwing a party was the obvious move
Typical of a DJ, Alan, 57, is a man of many words, and boundless enthusiasm.
It was his idea to hold the party back in 2001. Doing it again 22 years later felt only natural.
He laughs when asked if throwing big parties is how he shows Caroline he cares.
But it is clear he’d do anything for the woman he married 33 years ago, and whom he first met when she worked in the Silver Grill chipper on Great Northern Road.
“He’d get two suppers, and I’d think, hmmm,” remembers Caroline. She assumed the other piece of fish was for a girlfriend.
“It was for me and my sister,” says Alan, smiling. “She used to get embarrassed every time I went in.”
The pair met some time later in Jamie’s, the nightclub on Aberdeen beach. Alan went out with Caroline while a friend went out with Caroline’s niece.
“They never lasted,” says Caroline.
“But we did.”
Chemotherapy and spicy food
It was Caroline’s youngest daughter Kimberly who first discovered the lump. Five years old and ready for bed she leaned in for a goodnight cuddle.
“It was just the way she leaned on me,” recalls Caroline. “I thought, oh that was sore.”
She phoned the doctor the next day and was booked in for a scan six weeks down the line.
“That was the worst bit, the waiting,” she says.
The hospital didn’t waste any time once the cancer was identified. Chemo, radiotherapy and a lumpectomy, a procedure that surgically removes the cancerous tissue more precisely than a mastectomy.
Caroline’s chemo was on Thursdays so family in Aberdeen would take the girls for the weekend to give her time to relax.
Alan was working as a chef at the Marriott and would cook extra spicy curries for Caroline. But her taste buds were so damaged by the chemo she kept saying to him, “I thought you said this was spicy?”
Caroline knew bad news was coming
When the cancer returned in July last year, Caroline found not just one lump but two.
At the hospital, she knew what the nurse was going to say when she came back with her results. She’d been here before.
“We’d just had a brilliant holiday in Turkey,” says Alan.
“The best holiday ever,” adds Caroline. “I’d never felt so good. I just couldn’t believe it.”
If the chemo had been rough the first time, this time it was worse.
In the end, doctors were forced to pare back Caroline’s last two rounds of chemo because her body was unable to cope. Every time she went into the hospital she didn’t expect to come out.
“You can’t eat, you can’t taste,” she recalls. “You get mouth ulcers. Crying all the time, crawling to the toilet because you’re in so much pain. It was just horrendous.
“I thought the worst part would be the mastectomy. But I sailed through that.”
Caroline’s experience helped her to help other cancer patients
Caroline would pass the time in the ward by talking to the other patients. “I’m shy but I like a wee natter,” she explains with a laugh.
One day she saw a young woman having a coughing fit. It took Caroline a moment to realise she wasn’t coughing, she was crying. When she asked if she could help, the woman told her it was her first round of chemo. The realisation of it had just sunk in and she couldn’t stop thinking about her nine-year-old daughter.
“I thought to myself, I know that feeling,” says Caroline.
She continues: “I told her that everybody’s different with the chemo. For me it was pretty bad but that doesn’t mean it will be bad for you, you are younger than me.
“And she was so chuffed with that. So I just held her hand and remembered my first time.”
A night to remember, again
Caroline’s all-clear earlier this year (she’s clear of the disease but is still getting chemo) was Alan’s signal to start planning another party.
He called it a Night to Remember II and started piling up raffle prizes and donations including an unexpected envelope handed to him by a woman that had heard Caroline’s story.
“My daughter opened the envelope and £600 pounds fell out,” Alan says. “It was like, wow!”
The night itself went off magnificently. Kimberley and Louise, now 28 and 33, were there, just like they were in 2001 when a Press and Journal photographer snapped a family picture for the next day’s paper.
Alan and Caroline’s grandson, born on Christmas Day last year, added to the numbers. And just like last time, there was dancing, singing and one or two tears.
There was one difference. Twenty-three years ago, Alan eventually raised £1,552 for a breast cancer charity. This time he’s made close to £5,000 – and counting.
“My initial plan was to double the amount from last time,” Alan says, just a hint of pride in his voice. “I smashed that.”
To donate to Alan and Caroline’s Gofundme pageto raise money for Breast Cancer Research Aid, click here.
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