About Me
I’m Cathy — and I’ve just been diagnosed with Wegener’s.
Until recently, I was the woman who had everything boxed off.
Colour-coded calendars and spreadsheets. Holidays booked a year ahead. School forms signed before they even came home in the bag.
I had a career, managed a team by day, a house by night, and — to be honest — most of the mental load in between.
Main breadwinner. Mum of teenagers. Married to a brilliant stay-at-home dad.
Life wasn’t easy, but it was familiar. Full of the usual unpredictability and drama you'd expect.
Then I got diagnosed with Wegener’s.
Or, to give it its full horror-movie name: Granulomatosis with polyangiitis (GPA).
It’s rare. It’s serious. It’s autoimmune.
And honestly? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.
That’s when I realised: everything was about to change —
except the bills, the deadlines, and the need to keep the lights on, both literally and emotionally.
A Bit of Back Story
I grew up in Aintree, Liverpool — same area as my mum and dad — and moved to London in my early 20s.
I’m one of six kids, raised between Irish Catholic and Irish Protestant grandparents, so I grew up knowing how to handle conflict, clashing opinions, and a fair bit of judgment.
It made me resilient.
And with the redhead gene running strong in the family, it made me bloody tough too.
Being Scouse, being ginger, being female — it all means one thing: you show up.
Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
And lately? It’s been really, really hard.
How it Started
It began with a cold that wouldn’t shift. Then hearing loss in my left ear — fixed with a grommet.
Next came sinus infections that wouldn’t budge, even after five rounds of antibiotics. Then came hearing loss in my right ear, another grommet on the cards, more sinus issues, a brutal chest infection, and finally, bone-deep fatigue.
And the joint pain? So bad I could barely get on and off the toilet.
Oh — and I lost 13kg in three weeks.
So technically, I’d hit my target weight. Silver linings.
I knew it wasn’t normal. I kept pushing. I got a second opinion. And I felt guilty.
My ENT doctor was kind — she’d fixed my left ear — but this was 12 months of constant problems.
My gut told me someone needed to look at the whole picture, not just the pieces.
That’s when one ENT consultant finally listened — and referred me to rheumatology.
That’s when a doctor took my hand and said:
You are very sick.
That’s when I first heard:
Vasculitis. Wegener’s. Life-threatening. CT scans. Lung X-rays.
That’s when my life flipped.
Treatment came fast: high-dose steroids, antibiotics, and now cyclophosphamide infusions.
And now I’m here — trying to make the mental shift.
Trying to accept that I’m ill.
Trying to get through one day at a time, while figuring out what the hell this all means.
The Hardest Part (So Far)
It’s not just the meds, the dizzy spells, the pain, or the endless blood tests — though that’s rough.
It’s the mental shift.
It’s admitting that I’m vulnerable. That I need help.
That some days, my body lives in a world of “maybe later.”
As a mum, that stings.
There are more takeaways than I’d like. The house isn’t always spotless.
Plans get cancelled. Kids get disappointed. I don’t always feel like I’m much fun.
But we’re adapting. I’m learning.
Why I Built this Site
Because I’m right at the beginning of this.
Still scared. Still tired. Still figuring it out.
And when I searched for real stories, beyond the jargon and textbooks — they were hard to find.
That site didn’t exist.
So I’m building it.
Personal. Honest. Occasionally sarcastic.
This is where I share my journey, what I’ve learned, what I use, and what I wish I’d known.
A place where it’s okay to be angry, confused, or just plain knackered.
If you are just starting too
Maybe you’ve just been diagnosed.
Maybe you love someone who has.
Maybe you're panic-Googling at 3am, wondering what the hell happens next.
You’re not alone.
Not anymore.
This is Wegner’s and Me — and I’m really bloody glad you’re here.