Cancer: the toughest journey

Sir, – I burst into tears and couldn't stop crying while reading "Cancer: the toughest journey" (Eoin Butler, March 10th) about the non-existent cancer care north of an imaginary middle line through this island.

These are people, fellow human beings, vulnerable, stressed, scared, maybe in pain forced to travel for hours to get necessary treatments for life-threatening conditions, at a time in life when a long journey on a stuffy minibus is about the last thing you want to submit yourself to. Then to read about the mind-boggling arrogance of a politician suggesting public transport as a substitute for proper cancer transport services – which could be easily paid for by just a fraction of one run-of-the-mill CEO bonus. It is unbelievably unfair that abundant services are provided to the population of Dublin and beyond, and nothing but a pathetic excuse of healthcare to citizens of northern counties.

Living in Monaghan, one doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry at the absurdity of it all: like an ambulance taking a patient with a broken leg to Cavan hospital because it is "Cavan-day" and not "Drogheda-day" and then to Drogheda because orthopedics are in Drogheda. Or myself, having been diagnosed with breast cancer in January, of course having to travel to Dublin for everything apart from chemotherapy. So now, after surgery, I suffer from the very common complication. In consequence, I will be travelling down to Dublin twice next week, more than 3 hours on the road each time for a perfectly simple procedure that takes 5 minutes but cannot be performed anywhere north of the "healthcare-division-line". I could just start crying all over again. – Yours, etc,

ANJA NOHLEN,

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Coolshannagh Road,

Monaghan.