Rob Freeman was 23 and working alongside his dad as a quantity surveyor in Chelmsford when he developed a cough over Christmas in 2010. According to his brother Toby, who lives in Colchester and was only two years younger, Rob was in the prime of his life, building a career alongside university studies and busy being “ridiculously good at any sport and a great drummer and musician.”
The following ten months changed everything, after Rob was diagnosed with late stage cancer. Toby, 35, the CEO and Founder of Robin Cancer Trust said, “We were pretty inseparable. I remember my youth was following Rob around, just idolising him.
"He was so charismatic, funny, kind. I remember my dad saying: “if my brother had half my confidence, and I had half his skill, we’d both be much better footballers.” Reflecting on that time, Toby said, “You watched him being in the prime of his life, to holding his hand on his deathbed. It was that jarring over ten months.
READ MORE:Essex primary school teacher banned after picking up young pupil by the neck
READ MORE:Mum who lost teen son in Essex crash calls for government to act
"He was fit, healthy, active. Gym all the time, football several times a week, running every morning. He barely drank, didn’t smoke. He was very clean, didn’t like junk food.” No one could have anticipated what happened.
One of three boys, Robin was very close to his brothers. Toby said, “We texted every day, we talked every day. It was very much a best friend, brother relationship. That’s what made it so hard when he was diagnosed because I was working long hours in Colchester and he was fully removed in London.”
Rob went to the doctors after being prompted to go as he had suffered a dry cough for over three weeks during the Christmas period in 2010. At the time, Be Clear on Cancer was running a campaign to raise awareness of that, and his mother and aunt urged him to go to see his GP. Toby said that Rob thought it was a cough over the winter.
Robin then noticed something more alarming. “His arm swelled up. It was really painful and red which was jarringly abnormal.” After an initial appointment turned him away with little advice, Rob’s mum persisted and sought a second opinion.
Within half an hour of seeking further advice, Rob was admitted into hospital with a blood clot. Although the family were unaware at the time, the blood clot was actually part of a grapefruit sized tumour in his chest.
Doctors told Rob that he had a mediastinal germ cell tumor– a late stage cancer. While developing in the womb, germ cells which typically develop into either sperm or eggs had not moved down into his testicles, and Rob was now living with testicular cancer originating in those cells which were now pressing into his lung, causing what he had thought was a winter-time cough. No one in his family, to Toby’s recollection, had had cancer before. Toby said that on hearing the news, Rob was silent.
“Rob really struggled. I think he felt like he had his future ripped away from him. He was building towards so much. He had a job, he’d moved out. He had university. He was really focused on his health and fitness and making his body strong. He really withdrew from himself and mum was his absolute rock that year. He called her his guardian angel because she was by his side 24/7 no matter what. Good times, bad times, especially the worst times.
“There was a real disconnect in the family," said Toby, as he and his eldest brother were living in Colchester miles away from where Rob was being treated in a London hospital, receiving “fantastic treatment.” Thinking about how he dealt with his brother’s diagnosis, he said, “No one’s navigating those situations particularly well. You’re just doing the best you can during that period.” Toby worked 80-90 hour weeks while his brother was unwell.
“You don’t want to believe [that the cancer would kill him], especially when it’s a young person. You want to think of it as a stage that you need to get through, and life will continue. You’re also told that you have options. That’s part of the emotional rollercoaster. The hope, the peaks and the troughs. Rob was in the best care with an amazing team in a brilliant hospital. You never think about the end.”
Toby shares that their eldest brother was a stem cell match, and provided Rob with a life line. He said that his brother thought, “I could be my little brother’s hero, and that’s the coolest thing in the world.” The treatment did not work. “There was a moment where Rob had a meeting with his consultant. We knew options were low, but you always think they’ll pull something out of the bag.”
He said he’ll always remember standing in a Co-Op looking at orange juice when he got a call from his mum. “She said, “Are you close? Can you come home now?” In that moment, in my mum’s breaking voice, I knew my brother was dying. The world was happening around me and my world had just stopped. It was the most bizarre moment.”
“There is nothing more the doctors can do. I am going to die.” Toby remembers seeing his brother’s angry face as he relayed the news. In October in 2011, the 24-year-old, and Toby’s big brother and best friend began planning his own funeral. “The way Rob navigated the last six weeks of his life, allowed us to feel more at ease with everything. It wasn’t easy though.”
As Rob became sicker, he moved into a hospice. “You got to be a family again. Mum got to be mum. She wasn’t worried about making sure he had the right dose of medicine.” In his final days, Rob asked his friends to be his pallbearers and wrote a letter to his family. On December 10 at 3.45pm Rob sadly died.
Toby shared that Rob didn’t lose his sense of humour while planning his death. At his funeral, Toby said, “His second song was this horrible death metal song because he wanted us all to look at our Nan’s reaction and laugh. His casket had band logos on it. There was a picture of Turk and JD from Scrubs dressed in pimp costumes and that was what we saw as he came down the aisle.”
Rob didn’t like to be the centre of attention, according to his brother, who shared that it’s a running joke in the family that he is now the face of a charity in his name, Robin Cancer Trust. He was determined “not to be a photo on the wall”, and Toby and his family decided that if a healthy young man could miss the signs, so could anyone.
This year, Toby is running for his charity in the London Marathon. “I would love my brother to be here, but he’s not. The legacy that we created in his name is something we can be proud of. We’ve touched a lot of lives. Cancer affects 1 in 2.”
“Before he died, he told me that he just wanted to be a Dad. I’ve got kids now, and they talk about Uncle Robin’s charity. He’s not just a photograph on the wall. He’s the reason why. The beauty of life is to be lived.”
If you wish to donate to the Robin Cancer Trust, you can do so here.
