I'm walking for my dad, David
I’m supporting The Royal Marsden, a world-leading cancer centre who looked after my dad David exceptionally well through the final six months of his life. By donating to my page, their nurses, doctors, and research teams can provide the very best care and develop life-saving treatments. Together, we can save the lives of cancer patients everywhere. Please support me today.
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The sausage sandwich at the Marsden café is the breakfast I loved and hated at the same time.
Thursday 7th MayIt became a routine. Something solid to hold onto in a period where very little else was.
On 19th January, at 11pm, my dad was rushed by ambulance into Royal Surrey Hospital in Guildford. My mum and I were with him. He had been slipping deeper into a fever over the weekend, and by that evening it was clear something was very wrong.
I arrived at my parents’ house to find my mum, my sister, and my dad in distress. From that point on, everything else in life dropped into a very distant second place. The only thing that mattered was being there with him.
The next few days blurred into one. Intensive Care. High Dependency. Long stretches of waiting, punctuated by moments of urgency. You adjust quickly to hospital life - chairs that don’t quite recline, conversations in corridors, the rhythm of machines.
It took two weeks to get a diagnosis.
And we only got there because his consultant had recently transferred from the The Royal Marsden NHS Foundation Trust.
The impact of that diagnosis didn’t land all at once. It took days to sink in.
One of the most aggressive blood cancers.
The only person in the UK with that diagnosis at the time.
Experimental pathways.
And not eligible for the primary treatment because he was 76, just beyond the NHS cutoff.
Those are words you hear. But they don’t quite compute at first.
Then came the lifeline: a transfer to the Marsden.
My dad began the first of four rounds of chemotherapy there.
My son Noah, 9 years old at the time, came with me the first time I went. I was incredibly proud of him - his compassion, his instinct to be present, the way he handled a situation that most adults struggle with. There was no fuss. He just showed up.
That meant a lot.
The Marsden is an extraordinary place.
Not in a loud or obvious way. There’s no theatre to it. It’s calm, precise, focused. You quickly realise the level of expertise required to deal with cases like my dad’s - rare, complex, uncertain.
And you realise how many people it takes.
Consultants making difficult calls with clarity. Nurses combining clinical precision with real humanity. Teams operating in the background that you never meet, but whose work you feel every day.
In those moments, you see the system at its best. My dad saw it every moment of every day. He learned about their stories, their lives and their hopes. He showed them what grace and calm really is, at the most testing part of his life.
You also see how much it depends on continued funding, research, and the ability to take on cases that don’t fit neatly into standard pathways.
Over the following weeks, the Marsden became part of our lives.
And the sausage sandwich became my breakfast.
A strange constant in an otherwise shifting landscape. Something warm, familiar, and, if I’m honest - something I came to rely on more than I expected. But also something I resented, because of what it represented.
Being there. Needing to be there.
My dad faced everything that followed with a level of strength and perspective that still feels hard to fully process.
At one point, he said to my mum:
“I wouldn’t have missed out on this experience for the world.”
That tells you a lot about him.
He didn’t complain. Not once. His focus was on us - how we were doing, what we needed, how to make it easier. Even at the end, he was still giving.
That was his way.
I’m fundraising for the Marsden because I’ve seen firsthand what it takes to deliver that level of care - especially in the hardest and most uncertain cases.
And because, without it, families like ours don’t get the same chance. The same expertise. The same moments.
In less than 24 hours, friends, family and colleagues have already helped raise more than £1,400, which has honestly meant a huge amount to us.
If we reach £2,500, I’ll share the video of the eulogy I gave for my dad. It’s the most complete way I’ve found to explain who he was, and the gifts he left all of us.
If you’re able to support, I’d be hugely grateful. And if not, sharing this means just as much.
For now, this is what stays with me:
Not the machines. Not the diagnosis. Not even the outcome.
But the moments. The people. And the quiet, constant presence of someone who showed us how to live, right to the very end.
ShareThank you to my Sponsors
£200
Oliver Mould
£50
Mark Brewster
Well done mate!
£20
Stephanie Newman (berti)
In memory of a wonderful man! Good luck Damo 🙌
£75
Richard Segal
Enjoy! from the Founders Keepers team
£75
Anonymous
I wish I had met your dad - he sounds like a star. Well done for raising so much money for this amazing cause and in his memory. Love the Chappell’s
£20
David Over
Raising for such an amazing cause, and wonderful thing to do in your Father's honour. Inspiring.
£50
Gary Perez
£20
Jg
You go Damo!
£10
Claire Morris
Great cause! Well done Damian :)
£20
Rebecca Morley
Well done Damo!
£20
Louis Warner
Well done Damian, a really tough journey you've been through and managed so well.
£50
Matt Robinson
Well done Damo. Fantastic effort for an unbelievable cause x
£25
Ellie Slaght
Go Damian! Will be thinking of you tomorrow!
£50
Patch N B
Good get em Nige. Love you and your clan xx
£25
Arslan Hannani
£200
Erik Siekmann
£20
Finn Lynch
All credit to you, Damo. Lovely cause.
£25
Olivia Brooks
So lovely you’re doing this. A super important cause and your dad would be very proud 🌸
£75
Anthony Andrews
Good cause mi old monkeys nuts
£35
Rob Newlan
£20
Samuel Rueesch
£20
Nick Torday
Well done D, he would be very proud of you I have no doubt x
£50
Brian And Debbie
Good luck Damian and all the Routleys! An amazing venture and a wonderful way to remember David.
£50
Giovanni C
🙏🏻
£50
Emma Wolfin
Best of luck and great cause!
£35
Anthony Rhind
It must have been a very tough period. I hope you are taking some time to look after yourself now.
£75
Sahil Sachdev
<3
£20
Kyling
Run a marathon or something. Jokes, much love Damo, I remember us talking about your dad on my last day and am glad they gave you some comfort during the process
£50
Simon B
£50
Jan And Steve
In memory of David
£10
Dominic Deane
£20
Raluca Ciobancan
A brilliant cause Damian, good luck!
£50
Trevor Johnson
Best of luck mate x
£35
Stewart Hunter
All the best
£35
Pekka Santasalo
£40
Levi
£20
Phil
❤️
£10
Farah Kanji
£35
Max Knight
You and the family will smash this walk thanks for supporting me on my marathon sorry I couldn’t be there to support you all but welldone for supporting pas memory I love you all
£20
Webby
£35
Graham Cooke
£35
Amy Grimshaw
£50
Mona
Good luck Damo x
£100
Benjamin Blanco
March on, Damian!! We'll be cheering for you all the way. The Blanco Family x
£75
Christina Nesheva
Such a great cause, Damian! Best of luck.
£50
Si Russell
£35
Jack Kennedy
Brilliant cause Damian. Best of luck towards the target!
£40
Jamie Macfarlane
What a lovely way to honour your Dad. Marsden is wonderful - took care of me too. Much love.
£10
Jo Williams
£20
Roland Ellison
£40
Simon Wheeldon
Good Luck Damian, a great cause!
£100
Simon Cooper
A great cause, Damo.
£20
Edward Kandel
So sorry to hear Damian and good luck on the walk!!
£50
Alberto D
Supporting a great cause, all my best Damian
£20
Jan Barthelemy
£20
Ray Jenkin
all the best Damian good luck
£25
Tim Follett
£50
Arun Thangavel
Wishing you well on the walk Damo!
£50
Scott Hannan
£500
Christopher Lien
£50
Paola
£25
William Hill
£25
Becca Saraga
£100
Brief, historical, yet incredibly fond memories of a very special man. Well done mate - inspirational