Britain ‘could run out of drinking water within ten years'
Act now to keep your subscription
We've tried to contact you several times as we haven't been able to take payment. You must update your payment details via My Account or by clicking update payment details to keep your subscription.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Daily Mail
40 minutes ago
- Daily Mail
Uni student Maddie, 19, felt something unusual on her neck - then a quick Google search led to the unthinkable
Maddie King was a healthy 19-year-old university student preparing for the adventure of a lifetime: a semester abroad in Los Angeles. When she began noticing hard lumps in her neck, she had no idea her body was quietly battling a rare form of cancer that had gone undetected for years. Her whole world turned upside when she was diagnosed with stage four Hodgkin's lymphoma, the most advanced form of blood cancer. 'By the time they found it, it was all through my neck and chest, including a 9cm tumour in my lungs,' Maddie, now 25, told FEMAIL. It started with a cough, some mild night sweats, and the discovery of a few mysterious lumps - symptoms that, on their own, didn't seem urgent. 'I didn't have any idea anything was wrong until about three months before my diagnosis. I'd never noticed the lumps before, but they must have been growing for years,' she said. At first, her doctors in Sydney were unsure because scans and biopsies came back inconclusive. She was prescribed antibiotics for what they suspected was pneumonia, but Maddie had a nagging feeling that something wasn't right. 'I was Googling everything. And eventually, it all started pointing to cancer. I was hoping it was something else - tuberculosis, a lung infection - anything but that,' she said. She left for the US with a suitcase full of medical records and a sense of unease. It was the university doctor in LA who finally urged her to take urgent action: 'You need to fly home and get an excision biopsy.' She returned to Sydney in October 2019. Days later, she had a formal diagnosis. 'The diagnosis actually came as a relief,' Maddie admitted. 'After months of not knowing, I could finally make a plan.' But there was no time to process what was happening - almost immediately, she was thrown into a whirlwind of appointments with haematologists, oncologists and even fertility specialists. 'They talked about fertility on the day of diagnosis. Within a week, I was doing IVF injections to preserve some eggs before chemo,' she said. The treatment was brutal : six rounds of intense chemotherapy, followed by a month of radiation. For months, her life was consumed by blood tests, back-to-back medication schedules, isolation, and relentless cycles of pain. 'Chemo completely rips away any sense of normality. You can't plan your day. You can't see friends. You're immunocompromised. I was wearing masks before COVID was even a thing,' she said. Her academic life paused - she took a year off from university. Her social life dwindled. She was often too exhausted to leave the house, let alone think about being 19 and carefree. 'It's a very lonely and disorienting time. Everything changes overnight,' she said. Maddie's journey wasn't just a physical battle, it was an emotional and psychological one, too. At an age when most of her peers were starting internships, going on holidays, or dating freely, she was navigating oncology wards and hormone injections. She remembers trying to distract herself in those early days, trying not to fall apart. 'It was messy. I didn't have the tools back then to process it. I just tried to keep going.' She leaned heavily on her then-boyfriend and her mother, who stayed by her side through the testing, treatment and uncertainty. Maddie's story is made even more heartbreaking by a devastating family history. At 16, she lost her father to pancreatic cancer - a diagnosis that left little time for treatment. 'He was diagnosed and passed away within a month. He didn't even have chemo, it was just about managing the pain. Our experiences couldn't have been more different,' she recalled. When she got her own diagnosis just three years later, it stirred up complicated emotions. 'It was confusing. Part of me was relieved he didn't have to watch me go through it. No parent should have to see their child go through chemo. But part of me wished he was there - I think he would've been proud,' she said. In March 2025, Maddie celebrated a milestone many cancer survivors dream of: five years in remission. 'I went to Vietnam with my partner to celebrate. It was beautiful,' she said. She no longer needs regular scans, but she remains vigilant with GP check-ups and bloodwork. Chronic health issues still linger, a reminder that the battle didn't end when the treatment did. But she's learning to live alongside them with grace, strength and gratitude. Looking back, she says her journey taught her a painful but profound truth: No one is too young. No one is too healthy. Cancer doesn't care. But neither, she adds, should we underestimate the power of small acts of care such as a Facebook message, a meal, or a $10 donation, to help someone who is fighting for their life. Maddie revealed that it was a community of strangers - young women going through similar diagnoses - who helped her feel less alone. 'During the whirlwind of medical appointments, I found Rikki and Cancer Chicks,' Maddie says, referring to founder Rikki Stern, who launched the community to support young women with cancer after being diagnosed with Stage 2B Hodgkin's Lymphoma at 19. 'I just found her on social media. She invited me to join the Facebook group. When I introduced myself and shared my story, the outpouring of support was unbelievable.' From questions about side effects to decoding confusing scan results, Cancer Chicks became a lifeline, offering real-time advice, empathy, and hope. 'I was in chemo when I went to their first retreat. I didn't have eyebrows, and they ran a workshop on how to draw them on. It sounds small, but it made me feel human again.' The community gave Maddie a glimpse into the future - a future where women like her survived, healed, and rebuilt their lives. 'We're a small subset of the population - young women with cancer - but Cancer Chicks makes you feel seen. That someone cares. That you're not forgotten.' Now healthy and working in marketing at a Sydney startup called Magic Brief, Maddie is passionate about giving back. By sharing her story, she hopes to raise awareness for young Aussies going through cancer and highlight the power of female-driven support networks like Cancer Chicks - the community that helped her through her darkest days. She's especially excited about a new partnership between Cancer Chicks and Afterpay, which allows people to donate in instalments, making generosity more accessible in the current cost-of-living crisis. 'People always ask me where they can donate, but they think they need to give $100 or $500 to make an impact. That's just not true,' she explained. Some of the most meaningful gestures Maddie received during treatment weren't grand - they were practical. 'Ready meals, a $15 UberEats voucher, little things like that completely changed my day,' she said. With the Afterpay model, donors can contribute manageable amounts over time - helping charities like Cancer Chicks fund retreats, events, and workshops that provide direct, tangible support.
BBC News
an hour ago
- BBC News
Business Matters Trump doubles tariffs on steel imports to 50%
American President Donald Trump has announced at a rally in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania that the US will double tariffs on steel imports from 25% to 50% to boost the local steel industry. The announcement is the latest turn in Trump's rollercoaster approach to tariffs since re-entering office in January. Meanwhile, it was the last day at the White House for tech billionaire Elon Musk who has departed from his role at DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency.) We examine what he has achieved in the role, what his priorities will be at Tesla and Space X, and whether he and President Trump can remain friends And with the Indian economy showing a growth of 7.4% between January and March, beating analyst expectations, we analyse what's behind the numbers and if the growth can continue To discuss these and the big global business news of the day, presenter Devina Gupta, is joined by Andy Uhler, journalism fellow at University of Texas Energy Institute in the US and Rachel Cartland, author and commentator based in Hong Kong.
The Guardian
an hour ago
- The Guardian
My cultural awakening: A Timothée Chalamet drama made me leave my partner – and check him into rehab
Two summers ago, I met a man on a dating app who would become my boyfriend. The red flags were there from the start, but I ignored them all. When I stayed at his, he didn't have a towel to offer me, and he never changed his sheets. It became obvious that he didn't know how to look after himself. Even though, in reality, he could survive without me (similar to how a teenage boy would survive on his own, eating burgers in bed), I felt like, if I wasn't there to buy groceries, cook and clean, he might die. He would disappear for days, on a drink- or drugs-fuelled bender, and I'd assume he'd overdosed in a basement somewhere. I lived in fear that something terrible would happen to him. I became his boyfriend and his caregiver. This was a familiar role for me: I'd done it in all my previous relationships. I needed to be needed. If the person I was dating didn't need me, then what value did I have? I found safety in taking care of someone. This started as a family dynamic: as the eldest child, I had to look out for my younger brothers, and learned to overlook my own needs. Then, when I was 14, my girlfriend died in a drug-related car accident. My therapist helped me to see the connection; that because I couldn't save her, I sought romantic relationships with men or women I thought I could save instead. One evening, after being recommended it by Netflix, I began watching Beautiful Boy, a film about the breakdown of a father's relationship with his son, who is an addict. It was about halfway through that I decided to leave my relationship. When Steve Carell's character (David) hangs up on Timothée Chalamet (Nic), saying, 'I wish I could help you, but I can't do that,' I knew I couldn't either. I admired the strength it took to end the cycle of trying (and failing) to save his son. Even though he was my boyfriend and three years older, I related to the father-son dynamic in Beautiful Boy. I felt responsible for him, and he would tell me that he would die without me, threatening to take his own life. Until then, I hadn't seen how much I was damaging myself by trying to help him. And that I would never be able to, not really. He had to learn how to take care of himself. As David says: 'I don't think you can save people.' Despite deciding to end the relationship in September 2023, I didn't take action until October, when I cheated on him. I felt I had to do something irreparable that would make it impossible for us to stay together. I told him what I'd done over the phone, then I called his mum to tell her about his drug problem. I don't think she knew: she lived in another country and he hid it from her. Finally, I called a psychiatric facility and did all of the admin to make sure that he would be taken care of, and then never spoke to him again. The guilt I felt was overpowered by the feeling that this was something I had to do. That was my last codependent relationship. I have a new boyfriend, who tells me that my company alone is enough. I'm the most peaceful I've ever been, but sometimes the voice that says I'm only lovable if I'm useful comes back. If I try to cook for my boyfriend when I'm tired and he tells me I don't have to, I can spiral. But slowly, with help, I'm building a sense of self that doesn't rely on being of service. Beautiful Boy helped me see that I don't need to take care of someone else to have value. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion You can tell us how a cultural moment has prompted you to make a major life change by filling in the form below or emailing us on Please include as much detail as possible Please note, the maximum file size is 5.7 MB. Your contact details are helpful so we can contact you for more information. They will only be seen by the Guardian. Your contact details are helpful so we can contact you for more information. They will only be seen by the Guardian. If you include other people's names please ask them first. Action on Addiction is available on 0300 330 0659.
