Liam had bravely shared his story to warn others not to make the same mistake that he did. Check in comments.
There are times when despite feeling unwell, we refuse to visit a doctor hoping that the pain would eventually go away on its own. The sad reality is that if we don’t seek medical help when we first feel the symptoms of an illness, it may be too late when we do it.
A 31-year-old man from Middlesborough, UK, who was battling terminal cancer advocated about the importance of regular check-ups and visiting a doctor on time.
Liam Griffiths believed that he could have been able to beat the cancer had he turned to a medical professional sooner.
Despite his efforts to beat the illness, Liam was delivered the devastating news it was fatal.
Namely, he was suffering from peritoneal cancer, a form of cancer that affects the lining of the abdomen.
In an interview, Liam revealed that he started experiencing stomach swelling, chronic constipation, cramps and vomiting in March of 2023. Although his symptoms seemed to be severe, he didn’t visit a doctor because he was self-employed and didn’t want to lose out on wages.
He hoped the symptoms would go away, but they only worsened and became even more severe which forced him to seek medical help. Once at the hospital, he was diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease, but a month later he got a call from the doctor and was informed that he was in fact misdiagnosed and that he had cancer.
He started treatments right away, but sadly, his cancer was resistant to the chemotherapy.
Despite the gravity of his situation, this young man found the time and strength to send a message to every person out there, and that message is not to delay the doctor’s visit in case you feel something’s wrong with your body.
“I want to push this message because if just one or two people go to the hospital and get checked because of my mistake and my story, that would be amazing,” he said. “They found my cancer at stage three advanced – but if I had just gone to see the doctors earlier, maybe they could have caught it. I was self-employed, and I needed the money, so I just kept powering through. I did what I thought a man needed to do – I was manning up.”
Not losing hope despite the dull prognosis, Liam’s friend, Eve Bannatyne, started a fundraiser which helped raise over £18,000 in donations for Liam’s private treatment because his chemotherapy on the NHS no longer worked.
“I remember I asked what my life span would look like and my doctor said he doesn’t want to give me a timeframe of when my life could end, because he doesn’t want me to focus my whole life around it,” Liam told Metro.
“I agreed and just decided I wanted to get home, fulfil some wishes and just live my life while I can.”
Sadly, Liam passed away on February 1, 2024.
The memorial service for him was led by Rev John Hearn. Liam’s dad spoke of his son and said, “Liam was a beautiful, funny, caring, big softie. As a kid he was very loving towards his mam and dad. There was always a cuddle. He also had his cheeky side.”
Liam’s life story serves as a reminder that we should always prioritize our health, even if that means losing out on wages or rescheduling certain commitments and duties.
We are so very sorry for this brave man’s passing. May he rest in peace.
She inquired, “What’s the price for the eggs?” The elderly seller responded, “0.25 cents per egg
The old egg seller, his eyes weary and hands trembIing, continued to sell his eggs at a loss. Each day, he watched the sun rise over the same cracked pavement, hoping for a miracle. But the world was indifferent. His small shop, once bustling with life, now echoed emptiness.
The townspeople hurried past him, their footsteps muffled by their own worries. They no longer stopped to chat or inquire about the weather. The old man’s heart sank as he counted the remaining eggs in his baskets. Six left. Just six. The same number that the woman had purchased weeks ago.
He remembered her vividly—the woman with the determined eyes and the crisp dollar bill. She had bargained with him, driving a hard bargain for those six eggs. “$1.25 or I will leave,” she had said, her voice firm. He had agreed, even though it was less than his asking price. Desperation had cIouded his judgment.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. The old seller kept his promise, selling those six eggs for $1.25 each time. He watched the seasons change—the leaves turning from green to gold, then falling to the ground like forgotten dreams. His fingers traced the grooves on the wooden crate, worn smooth by years of use.
One bitter morning, he woke to find frost cIinging to the windowpane. The chill seeped through the cracks, settling in his bones. He brewed a weak cup of tea, the steam rising like memories. As he sat on the same wooden crate, he realized that he could no longer afford to keep his small shop open.
The townspeople had moved on, their lives intertwined with busier streets and brighter lights. The old man packed up his remaining eggs, their fragile shells cradled in his weathered hands. He whispered a silent farewell to the empty shop, its walls bearing witness to countless stories—the laughter of children, the haggling of customers, and the quiet moments when he had counted his blessings.
Outside, the world was gray—a canvas waiting for a final stroke. He walked the familiar path, the weight of those six eggs heavier than ever. The sun peeked through the clouds, casting long shadows on the pavement. He reached the edge of town, where the road met the horizon.
And there, under the vast expanse of sky, he made his decision. With tears in his eyes, he gently placed the eggs on the ground. One by one, he cracked them open, releasing their golden yoIks. The wind carried their essence away, a bittersweet offering to the universe.
The old egg seller stood there, his heart as fragile as the shells he had broken. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face. And in that quiet moment, he whispered a prayer—for the woman who had bargained with him, for the townspeople who had forgotten, and for himself.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, he turned away from the empty road. His footsteps faded, leaving behind a trail of memories. And somewhere, in the vastness of the universe, six golden yolks danced—a silent requiem for a forgotten dream.
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