{"id":182664,"date":"2025-06-14T02:38:12","date_gmt":"2025-06-14T02:38:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/182664\/"},"modified":"2025-06-14T02:38:12","modified_gmt":"2025-06-14T02:38:12","slug":"dave-became-too-ill-to-speak-losing-his-hair-made-him-feel-repellent-we-both-knew-what-was-coming-and-i-had-to-make-a-decision-with-extraordinary-bravery-hairy-bikers-widow-lili-myers-reveals","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/uk\/182664\/","title":{"rendered":"‘Dave became too ill to speak. Losing his hair made him feel repellent. We both knew what was coming and I had to make a decision…’ With extraordinary bravery, Hairy Bikers widow LILI MYERS reveals the story of his cancer battle for first time"},"content":{"rendered":"

It’s early morning and I\u2019m taking my dog for a walk. The spring sun is beginning to rise and the air is crisp, bringing my senses back to life after another broken night\u2019s sleep.<\/p>\n

The night times are the most difficult. It\u2019s been three months since my husband Dave Myers<\/a> died and, while the days are busy enough for me to push my thoughts and feelings aside, at night I\u2019m alone, with nowhere to hide.<\/p>\n

Every time I feel the pain ease a little and my balance doesn\u2019t seem quite so off-kilter, something comes out of nowhere to obliterate the stillness. A smell, a picture, something he touched, a song he loved, a feather landing at my feet.<\/p>\n

I guess I need to give it time. A lot of time. An eternity, maybe.<\/p>\n

But today my mood is good as my beautiful, madcap rescue dog and I march through the Staffordshire countryside. He is putting a smile on my face as he pulls on the lead, forcing me to keep up.<\/p>\n

I love him for what he does for me every day.<\/p>\n

I start to head home, looking forward to a well-earned cup of coffee. It\u2019s when I arrive back that I find it. Sitting on the first of the steps up to the house is a little silver medallion, glinting in the sunlight. I pick it up and the inscription causes my heart to jolt and my knees to buckle:<\/p>\n

If I had my life to live all over again I would find you sooner so I could love you longer.<\/p>\n

\"Lili <\/p>\n

Lili and Dave Myers at an award show in 2018\u00a0<\/p>\n

How? Where I live is quite remote, there are no passers-by, no dog walkers and no public path. But this small silver disc has found its way into my world.<\/p>\n

I flip it over and feel it resting in my palm for a few moments, then I clutch it tightly, swallowed from head to toe by a hot wave of grief.<\/p>\n

Call me foolish, but even if conventional wisdom dictates that this message can\u2019t have transcended two worlds, I want to hold on to what the words represent.<\/p>\n

Because the truth is I do wish I\u2019d met Dave a lot earlier in my life and I do wish I\u2019d had more time to feel loved by him and to make him see how much happiness he brought into my world. Into the whole world.<\/p>\n

I steady myself and open the front door. I head into my office and gently place the mysterious medallion on the desk where I will be able to see it every day. Wherever it came from, I know I will keep it for ever.<\/p>\n

I tell myself it didn\u2019t matter how much I loved him or how much he wanted to live, it wasn\u2019t going to happen and so the \u2018why\u2019 questions are pointless. The longer you stay in the \u2018why\u2019 zone, the more prolonged the grief and the more complicated it becomes, so I\u2019m going to try instead to focus on the wonderful 20 years Dave gave me.<\/p>\n

But I will always wish we had met earlier in life. I wish. I wish.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m from Romania, and whenever people ask what brought me to the UK, I reply: \u2018A man on his bike.\u2019 Dave was biking in my neck of the woods when we first met.<\/p>\n

I wasn\u2019t looking for him. He just found me. Or maybe we found each other. Perhaps we both offered something the other was hoping to find.<\/p>\n

On that fateful day in spring 2005 when Dave came into my life I was working on the desk of a hotel in the beautiful region of Maramures, in northern Transylvania. Two large characters walked in, both with long hair and beards, filling the small reception area with their hefty frames. And with their smiles. Dave Myers and Simon King.<\/p>\n

It was their first time in Romania and they were starting work on their debut series, The Hairy Bikers\u2019 Cookbook, which had been commissioned after a pilot episode had delivered an astonishing 2.7 million viewers for BBC Two.<\/p>\n

I had no idea who they were \u2013 to me they were just two clients seeking accommodation.<\/p>\n

The only two rooms we had available shared a bathroom. It was like an apartment which was accessed via a winding staircase.<\/p>\n

I was wearing a smart business skirt and, as I learned later, Dave took the opportunity to admire my legs as he followed me upstairs. He told Simon afterwards, \u2018I fancy her!\u2019 I was completely unaware that he\u2019d taken a shine to me \u2013 I was just doing my job and wasn\u2019t even smiling. Indeed, Simon\u2019s response to Dave\u2019s admission was to say: \u2018Mate, she\u2019s really scary!\u2019<\/p>\n

This initial trip was part of a recce and they returned a month later with their crew in tow, booking out the whole hotel this time, to film two episodes of the seven-part series. But their filming plans hadn\u2019t worked out. They\u2019d been relying on sunshine and blue skies but that week the weather had turned nasty, meaning they couldn\u2019t take their bikes on the mountain trails as planned.<\/p>\n

\"Sitting <\/p>\n

Sitting on the first of the steps up to the house is a little silver medallion, glinting in the sunlight<\/p>\n

On the morning they\u2019d been due to start shooting, the team were gathered in the hotel breakfast room, scratching their heads not knowing what to do. This is where I was able to step in.<\/p>\n

I suggested some alternative ideas for filming over the next three days. Which is how, purely by accident, I became their fixer and interpreter. I knew the places and the people they could work with, I had the local knowledge and contacts, and those few days were different from anything I\u2019d experienced before. It was the first time I\u2019d ridden a motorbike, on the back of Dave\u2019s BMW R 1200 GS as we travelled to locations.<\/p>\n

I was very sad as they reached the end of filming. I\u2019d had such a great time, learning about how a piece of TV was produced and watching Dave and Si and the dynamic between them. Their conversation in front of the camera was completely unscripted. It just flowed so naturally and I found it quite mesmerising. I\u2019d never met two people as interested in our culture, history and, my goodness, the food as they had been.<\/p>\n

And it all just went from there. Dave\u2019s emails started to arrive from different parts of the world, wherever the filming was taking them. I was reading about the people of Turkey, the spices of India, the colours of Mexico and the penguins of Patagonia. I\u2019d always dreamed of travelling and now I was seeing the world through his eyes. The more he wrote, the more he revealed about himself, and I understood that he was a truly special person, full of warmth, wisdom and spark.<\/p>\n

I knew we were developing strong feelings for each other, but I warned him not to fall in love with me. There were too many obstacles stacked against us. We were from different worlds and I was a single mother with two children to think of: my son Sergiu, 16, and my daughter Iza, ten.<\/p>\n

I kept my guard up and treated what we had as a friendship, but Dave exuded so much charm and happiness that I gradually realised how much had been lacking in my life. I\u2019d never known anyone with so much vivacity, so much love to give and such a generous heart.<\/p>\n

It was impossible not to like Dave Myers. And, so it turned out for me, impossible not to fall in love with him, either. Despite my warnings, both of us were helpless to it. So in 2007, I moved to the UK with my daughter. My son stayed behind to finish his exams and came a year later. The four of us became a family and were deeply connected, every life moment \u2013 big or small \u2013 was shared. Dave was so proud of us as a unit, and of Sergiu and Iza individually.<\/p>\n

Four years after I moved to the UK, Dave and I were married at the town hall in Barrow-in-Furness in front of 150 guests.<\/p>\n

We had a 20-kilogram wedding cake covered in 100 white chocolate roses and, of course, Si did a speech. Then a Blues Brothers tribute band had everyone up on the dancefloor the whole night long. What a party it was…<\/p>\n

When the phone call came through on the car\u2019s dashboard display, I recognised the London code and knew instantly it was Dave\u2019s doctor. I also sensed that this wasn\u2019t going to be good news. I was right. \u2018David,\u2019 said the doctor, getting straight to the point, \u2018I\u2019m sorry to tell you that you have cancer. You\u2019d better come to my office as soon as possible so we can start planning for treatment.\u2019 From that moment, nothing would ever be the same again.<\/p>\n

It was the end of March 2022, and Dave and I were driving to our home in France for a two-week trip. We\u2019d been so looking forward to this time away.<\/p>\n

We\u2019d both had our annual check-ups in January \u2013 the usual tests to make sure everything was as it should be. Dave hadn\u2019t been feeling quite right in the run-up to his and had asked the doctor to carry out a few extra tests.<\/p>\n

Initial results indicated there was nothing to worry about, which had reassured us enough to head to France. But it was the last batch that the doctor was now phoning about. Dave listened to what he was told about the next steps, too shocked to form a coherent response. By now we were only about an hour from our house, so we didn\u2019t stop or turn back, just continued the journey in a stunned silence.<\/p>\n

Neither of us knew what to say. We spent the next four days hiding away, putting off returning to the UK, allowing the news to sink in. We cried a lot, and took long walks in places we\u2019d never been before where we were guaranteed not to meet anyone. Deserted places, just like our souls in those moments.<\/p>\n

\"After <\/p>\n

After a couple of days we called Si (left), Dave\u2019s beloved fellow Hairy Biker, to tell him the awful news<\/p>\n

Reeling and in a state of disbelief, we mourned our unfinished plans, our unfulfilled hopes, and discussed at length how this was going to affect us, our family, friendships, work, our whole world.<\/p>\n

We didn\u2019t eat and barely slept, both disorientated and drifting like ships without a compass. After a couple of days we called Si, Dave\u2019s beloved fellow Hairy Biker, to tell him the awful news. And we told Dave\u2019s oldest friend from his home town of Barrow-in-Furness, Dr Dave. Those were very hard, distressing conversations to have.<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t have any memories about driving back, the journey to a reality neither of us wanted to face.<\/p>\n

Dave was referred to a specialist in London, and just six days after that phone call from the doctor he had a port installed into an artery in his chest. Chemotherapy was starting the next day. It was all so quick and, at the age of just 64, he struggled \u2013 as did I \u2013 to come to terms with what was happening.<\/p>\n

\u2018I\u2019ve just got to a point in my life when I\u2019ve achieved everything I ever wanted,\u2019 he\u2019d say, \u2018and now I feel it\u2019s all being taken away in such a brutal way. I\u2019ve got a loving family, a place I can call home and a dream of a career. Why? Where have I gone wrong?\u2019<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t answer those questions. Acceptance felt like an impossibility and the feeling of a sharp knife in the pit of my stomach was something I could not shake off. My hair turned completely white within a couple of weeks. Over the next three months, his treatment was very aggressive and the side effects debilitating and ugly. It got to the point he was too ill to speak. He had sores in his mouth and was suffering such severe nerve damage in his hands that he had to wear gloves.<\/p>\n

He had it in his legs too, which affected his balance and ability to walk. I remember Si picked us up from the hospital one day and was truly shocked at the state of Dave.<\/p>\n

Losing his hair as a result of the chemo was incredibly painful for Dave, especially as he had suffered from alopecia as a young man. He was so proud of his hair once he had it back. He felt it gave him an identity, so losing it all over again was a sore cross to bear.<\/p>\n

I decided to spare him that hurt and reached for the razor, convincing him that taking the lead and owning it was the best way forward. We gently shaved it off and he felt a lot better making it his decision to get rid of it rather than waiting for cancer and chemo to claim it.<\/p>\n

As his treatment went on, Dave told me how difficult he found it to love himself when he looked in the mirror. He felt reduced to being only a cancer patient, stripped of his image, identity and personality, and with a face he didn\u2019t recognised.<\/p>\n

He thought he was hideous with no hair, no eyelashes and heavily stained teeth from chemo. He\u2019d lost a lot of muscle mass which meant his skin sagged, the neuropathy in his hands and feet made them unbearably achy, and some fingernails and toenails had fallen off. He found himself repellent.<\/p>\n

Because he was so physically altered he knew it wouldn\u2019t be long before news of his illness got out. He decided to tell people in a typically honest way and it made sense to drop it into conversation on the Agony Uncles podcast he\u2019d started with Si in 2022, keeping details vague and saying nothing of the prognosis or the type of cancer \u2013 a decision I continue to honour.<\/p>\n

He told listeners he would be stepping back from filming commitments for a while but was \u2018cracking on\u2019 and remaining upbeat. The podcast had become important to Dave and he would build himself up and draw on what little strength he had for the boys\u2019 one-hour recording. For the rest of the week he would be very poorly indeed.<\/p>\n

In those months of turmoil, we talked about the past, the places we loved visiting, our achievements, our regrets, the lessons we\u2019d learned in our lives. We spoke about the things he would love to have done but had not yet got round to. And the things he had done before but now wouldn\u2019t be able to.<\/p>\n

Losing his appetite for cooking and eating made him deeply depressed. Food had always been such a central piece of Dave\u2019s existence. Without it he didn\u2019t know who he was any more.<\/p>\n

\"'Our <\/p>\n

‘Our last picture together before Dave’s health deteriorated’<\/p>\n

We both knew what was coming, and I had to make a decision. I had a choice between crying and despairing at Dave\u2019s suffering or stepping up to do what was necessary to keep us both afloat.<\/p>\n

I chose to step up, with all the determination I could muster. I\u2019m sure people who have been through similar journeys know exactly what I\u2019m talking about. I took steps towards creating a new normality, making adaptations in the house and addressing the food patterns. Chemo had altered Dave\u2019s taste buds and we were battling to make sure he took in enough calories to keep his weakened body going.<\/p>\n

Sleep was difficult as well because he couldn\u2019t stand anything touching his feet, not even a light bedsheet. Socks, once such a thing of joy for Dave with his jazzy collection so intrinsic to his sense of style, would leave painful grooves on his shins, so I tried to find loose knitted pairs that wouldn\u2019t hurt as much.<\/p>\n

At the time Dave started treatment, we were in the process of moving from the home in Kent where we\u2019d lived for a number of years to Staffordshire, near Burton-on-Trent. Si came to help look after Dave as I packed up the Kent house and headed to the new one.<\/p>\n

The boys stayed in a B&B while I made sure there was a comfortable bedroom set up for Dave when he arrived the next day, driven by Si.<\/p>\n

Our new home was fabulous with high ceilings and spacious rooms, organised around a former internal courtyard with a glass roof.<\/p>\n

In moments of anguish, Dave and I would lie on the floor there, watching the blue sky through the glass. We\u2019d see birds flying overhead or the occasional small plane heading towards the airfield nearby.<\/p>\n

We\u2019d hold hands and cry, sometimes unable to move or talk, just despairing at the unfairness of it all. I knew so well the depth of Dave\u2019s pain: the desperation, the helplessness, the anger.<\/p>\n

Desperation for the loss of the peace and safety we\u2019d both worked so hard for and would never get back. Helplessness in the face of this invisible enemy we\u2019d been told was going to conquer us, no matter what we did or tried.<\/p>\n

Anger at the injustice of having his life cut short and for being dragged through all this pain, the hospital appointments and the invasive treatments, knowing there was no way out.<\/p>\n

The rest of the world continued while ours had stopped turning.<\/p>\n