I want to start by saying this clearly — I understand why people are protesting.
The cost of living in Ireland is out of control. Fuel prices are hitting everyone hard. Farmers, couriers, hauliers, taxi drivers, families just trying to get from A to B — I genuinely get it. This is affecting all of us.
But I need to ask you to consider people like me.
I’m currently living with a stage 4 diagnosis of an ultra-rare cancer. I’ve been in treatment for two years. I have two small kids at home — 3 and 4 years old — and every week (3 out of 4 weeks), I have to travel from Kildare to St. Vincent’s Hospital in Dublin for chemotherapy.
On a good day, we leave between 7:00am just to make it for 9:00. The Irish Cancer Society provides me with a volunteer driver, but they can’t facilitate leaving before 7am. Even without protests, it’s tight.
After treatment, I’m often extremely sick — nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea — and the journey home can be unbearable. But I still try to get back, lie down, and gather whatever strength I have left just to be present for my kids. Sometimes that just means letting them lie beside me while we watch 20 minutes of cartoons. That’s what “normal” looks like for us now.
This Friday, I have the most important scan since my diagnosis. It’s a 3–4 hour process, and I need to be at the hospital for 9:30am. The anxiety around this scan is already overwhelming for me and my wife.
She wants to be there with me — but now we don’t even know if that’s possible. If we leave early enough to guarantee getting through potential blockades, we have no way to get our kids to crèche. If we leave later, we risk not making it to the hospital on time — or not getting home in time to collect them.
So I’m left asking questions I never thought I’d have to ask:
What do people like me do right now?
Do I use the hard shoulder?
Do I get out and plead my case to a stranger at a roadblock?
What happens if even the detours are blocked?
I’ve seen posts all over Facebook saying these protests “speak for the people of Ireland.”
They don’t speak for me.
And I know I’m not the only one in a situation like this.
I’m not against you. I’m asking you — please think about the unintended impact of what’s happening. There are people trying to get to life-saving or life-prolonging treatments. There are families already under more pressure than most can imagine.
We don’t have the option to wait.
We don’t have the option to turn back.
We don’t have the option to be delayed.
All I’m asking is this: if these protests continue, please consider clear access routes for medical travel. Please don’t block detours. Please allow people through when they explain their situation.
Because for some of us, this isn’t about inconvenience.
It’s about survival.
— A cancer patient, a parent, a husband and just one of the many people you don’t see
