Angie Best shares emotional hospital update as she undergoes ‘mistletoe’ cancer treatment

Angie Best shared a photo from her hospital bed in Switzerland as she undergoes treatment for colon cancer that has spread to her liver

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Angie shared an update from her hospital bed(Image: )

Angie Best has shared a poignant update from her hospital bed as she embarks on an unconventional ‘mistletoe’ chemotherapy treatment following her recent cancer diagnosis. The 73 year old former wife of football icon George Best uploaded a photo on Instagram on Thursday, depicting her connected to an IV drip in a Swiss medical facility.

In the snapshot, Angie is seen sitting in a hospital bed with medical apparatus, including bags of IV fluid on a stand, visible next to her. This heart-wrenching post comes just over a week after her son Calum, 44, disclosed that she had been diagnosed with colon cancer that has metastasised to her liver.

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Angie gave fans an update on her health(Image: )

Captioning her post, Angie penned: “Trying to fake a smile, didn’t realise how sick I was, couldn’t wait so in Switzerland for chemo with Mistletoe, a sincere heartfelt thank you to you my Homies for your kindness.”

Mistletoe therapy – named so because it utilises extracts from the European mistletoe plant – is an alternative cancer treatment that has been employed in Europe for decades, particularly in Germany, Switzerland and Austria.

Some practitioners believe it can stimulate the immune system and enhance the quality of life for cancer patients, though its effectiveness remains a topic of debate in mainstream medicine.

It is not a standard, approved cancer treatment on the NHS, as robust evidence of its effectiveness as a cure is deemed inconclusive by major UK cancer bodies.

It can be used in conjunction with chemotherapy, which is what Angie is currently doing. Her post garnered a lot of support. The TV star’s son, Calum, expressed his love and support, commenting: “You are some woman and I love you so much, we got this”.

TV presenter Jenny Powell sent her well wishes, writing: “Sending you all positive and healing vibes right now. Hope you can play some 528 frequencies, much love”, while model Paul Sculfor wished her “strength and wellness.”

Angie also expressed doubts about conventional cancer treatments, sharing a meme titled “the cancer scam”. The unverified claim read: “So you’re telling me they spend $200 billion every single year on cancer research and the only thing to show for it is a 75 percent increase in cancer deaths since the 1990s?”

This update follows Calum’s heartbreaking revelation of his mother’s diagnosis in a video shared on social media earlier this month.

In the emotional footage, he said: “A few weeks ago, my beautiful, wonderful mum was diagnosed with cancer. For as long as I can remember, she has lived her life rooted in health, fitness and wellbeing. She has always believed in taking care of the body, mind and soul. But as we all know, cancer doesn’t discriminate.”

“It doesn’t care where you’re from, how you live, or how healthy you try to be. And now, it’s here – and it’s with my mum.”

Calum confessed that he ‘hasn’t cried in years’ but has been on an ’emotional rollercoaster’ since learning of his mother’s diagnosis.

“My mum has been diagnosed with colon cancer that has spread to her liver,” he revealed. “Moving forward, we require access to specialist care and professionals who can provide the appropriate treatment. ‘This is incredibly hard for me to say, but financially, I can’t shoulder this on my own.”

The reality star established a GoFundMe page to help fund his mother’s specialist treatment, stating: ‘Any contribution, no matter how small, will help us access the specialists, treatment and care my mum needs during this time. ‘.

In her own message shared alongside Calum’s announcement, Angie pledged she is ‘ready to fight’ the disease. She penned: “Consultations and research all takes dosh which I don’t have BUT I truly believe that this info will be invaluable as research suggests 1 in 2 of us will get some form of cancer. Yikes. Wish me luck, Onwards and upwards Homies.”

Angie encountered Manchester United and Northern Ireland legend George Best at a dinner party in Los Angeles in 1975 when he was signing to play for the Los Angeles Aztecs. It was reportedly ‘love at first sight’, and they relocated to London together in 1976.

When Angie returned to Los Angeles, George followed her and convinced her to marry him. They tied the knot on 24 January 1976 and welcomed their son Calum in 1981.

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Calum is Angie Best’s son(Image: )

However, the couple separated the following year and divorced in 1986, following George’s well-documented struggles with alcohol abuse and domestic violence. George Best passed away in 2005 at the age of 59 from multiple organ failure due to his alcoholism. Bowel cancer affects the large bowel, which is made up of the colon an.

Symptoms of this condition include bleeding from the bottom, blood in stools, a change in bowel habits lasting three weeks or more, unexplained weight loss, extreme tiredness and stomach pain or a lump in the tummy.

Bowel Cancer UK reports that over 41,200 individuals are diagnosed with bowel cancer annually in the UK. In the US, the National Cancer Institute states that it affects approximately 40 per 100,000 adults each year. More than nine out of ten people diagnosed with stage 1 bowel cancer survive for five years or longer post-diagnosis, although most cases are identified at later stages when the disease has already spread.

The dawn of a new era in Formula 1 is rarely quiet, but for Lewis Hamilton and Ferrari, the start of the 2026 campaign has been nothing short of thunderous. As the engines fired up at the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya for the highly anticipated shakedown of the next-generation challengers, the headlines were dominated not just by lap times, but by a brewing storm of technical controversy and organizational confusion.

The scrutiny surrounding Ferrari’s radical new challenger, the SF-26, has intensified dramatically, with the FIA reportedly “applying the brakes” on the project to investigate its aggressive aerodynamic concepts. Simultaneously, a growing chorus of concern from paddock insiders and pundits is highlighting a potentially critical void in Hamilton’s support network: the baffling absence of a dedicated race engineer.

The SF-26: A Radical Departure Under the Microscope

The arrival of the 2026 regulations marks the most significant overhaul of the Formula 1 rulebook in recent history, introducing new chassis, aerodynamic, and engine parameters designed to reshape the sport. Ferrari, looking to bounce back from a turbulent 2025, has clearly decided that fortune favors the brave. The team arrived in Barcelona not with a timid evolution, but with a revolutionary machine that has immediately caught the eye of the governing body.

The SF-26 features a baseline version of the car intended to keep the team’s “real” design secrets under wraps for as long as possible. However, even this initial iteration has raised eyebrows. The car boasts incredibly compact sidepods and, most notably, a controversial hole integrated into the rear diffuser. This design innovation is intended to accelerate airflow and recoup downforce lost by the new simplified floor regulations.

However, innovation often invites suspicion. Reports indicate that the FIA wants a “closer look” at just how aggressive the engineers in Maranello have been. There are genuine concerns regarding the legality and interpretation of these new aero concepts. The governing body has reportedly intervened, slowing down the approval process for the SF-26.

Compounding this bureaucratic hurdle is a staffing crisis within the FIA itself. The resignation of Jason Somerville, the FIA’s head of aerodynamics, in late November has created a significant bottleneck. Somerville, who previously oversaw the technical review of all team submissions, is currently on “gardening leave” before an expected move to the Alpine F1 Team. His departure has left a vacuum, causing delays in the vetting of 2026 proposals. For Ferrari, who have pushed the boundaries with their “refined engine packaging” and aerodynamic tricks, this delay adds an unwelcome layer of uncertainty to their pre-season preparations.

The “Alarming” Engineer Vacuum

While the technical drama plays out in the scrutineering bay, a more human concern is brewing in the Ferrari garage—one that could have far-reaching implications for Lewis Hamilton’s adaptation to his new team.

The relationship between a driver and their race engineer is often described as the most important marriage in Formula 1. It is a bond built on intuitive trust, shorthand communication, and emotional management. For years, Hamilton relied on the steady voice of Peter “Bono” Bonnington at Mercedes. At Ferrari, however, that voice is currently missing.

Hamilton took to the track in Barcelona working with Bryan Bozzi, the race engineer for his teammate Charles Leclerc. This interim arrangement has been necessitated by the reassignment of Riccardo Adami, Hamilton’s engineer during the difficult 2025 season, to the Ferrari Driver Academy. While Bozzi is highly capable, the situation has confused observers.

Sky Sports pundit Karun Chandhok expressed deep concern over the setup, stating that “alarm bells” are ringing.

“The other thing that’s ringing alarm bells for me is his engineer situation,” Chandhok noted during the shakedown recap. “As far as we understand, Bryan Bozzi was running the car today, including for Lewis. That confuses me if I’m perfectly honest. That relationship between driver and race engineer is so, so important.”

Chandhok argues that Ferrari is wasting precious time. The winter months and early tests are the critical window for a driver and new engineer to bond, establish communication protocols, and understand each other’s nuances. By using an interim solution, Hamilton is effectively losing weeks of integration time.

“They haven’t created a situation where Lewis is building that relationship over the winter,” Chandhok added. “I would have loved to see him doing simulator days, go and get a TPC car. You need to integrate that person into the engineering setup of the race team… To me, I’m slightly confused that as we sit here, we’ve already started testing, that bonding and relationship building hasn’t started.”

The “Gardening Leave” Complication

The root of this issue appears to be contractual. Ferrari is widely expected to sign Cedric Grosjean, formerly an engineer for Oscar Piastri at McLaren, to be Hamilton’s new voice on the radio. However, Grosjean left McLaren in December 2025 and is currently serving a mandatory period of gardening leave.

While this explains the physical absence, critics argue that Ferrari should have managed the transition better. Ivan Capelli, a former Ferrari driver, voiced his skepticism to journalist Leo Turrini. Capelli believes it is “strange” that the appointment hasn’t been officially clarified, leaving Hamilton in a state of limbo during his first outings in red.

“I find it strange that his new race engineer hasn’t yet been officially appointed,” Capelli said. “Maybe it’s just a matter of hours, but certain things should be clarified in advance.”

This lack of stability is particularly risky given the context of Hamilton’s arrival. He is joining Ferrari off the back of a season where he failed to score a single podium—a “bad year” by his lofty standards. He is seeking redemption, and to find it, he needs a stable platform, not a rotational cast of engineers.

On Track: Gravel Trips and Red Bull Pace

Amidst the off-track politics, there was actual running to be done. The Barcelona weather was far from ideal, with rain disrupting the sessions, but Ferrari joined Red Bull in braving the conditions while many other teams sat out.

Charles Leclerc debuted the SF-26 in the morning, recording laps in both dry and wet conditions. Hamilton took over in the afternoon, facing a wet track. His session was not without drama; the seven-time world champion had a “trip through the gravel” on his first run, a heart-in-mouth moment that fortunately resulted in no damage. He eventually completed 57 laps, contributing to a healthy team total of 123 laps for the day.

However, the timesheets—unofficial as they are—provided a sobering reality check. In comparable wet conditions, Red Bull’s junior driver Isack Hadjar, driving the RB22, outpaced Hamilton by nearly a full second. Hadjar clocked a 1:31.891 compared to Hamilton’s best of 1:32.872.

While fuel loads and run plans are unknown variables, the gap is a reminder of the mountain Ferrari has to climb. Hadjar’s day ended in the barriers with a significant crash, proving that the Red Bull is fast but perhaps tricky to handle, but the raw pace of the Milton Keynes squad remains the benchmark. Max Verstappen’s earlier dry lap was also significantly faster than Leclerc’s best effort.

The Ghost of Adrian Newey

Adding a final layer of intrigue to the Ferrari narrative is the revelation regarding Adrian Newey. The car Hamilton is driving today could have been the brainchild of the legendary designer. It was confirmed that Newey held talks with Ferrari after leaving Red Bull, but negotiations collapsed.

According to Capelli, the deal fell through because Newey demanded too much autonomy. “He was asking for room for maneuver within the company that his interlocators didn’t see fit to grant him,” Capelli explained. Essentially, Newey wanted “carte blanche,” a level of power Ferrari was unwilling to cede. Newey has since joined Aston Martin as Team Principal, leaving the SF-26 to be designed chiefly by Loic Serra, an aerodynamicist recruited from Mercedes.

Conclusion: A Fragile Beginning

As the paddock packs up in Barcelona, the narrative surrounding Ferrari is one of high potential mixed with high anxiety. The SF-26 is clearly an ambitious step forward, aggressive enough to worry the FIA and innovative enough to feature radical airflow solutions. But a fast car is of little use if the operational structure supports it is fractured.

Lewis Hamilton has come to Maranello to make history, to capture an eighth world title in the twilight of his career. But with the FIA investigating his car’s legality and his garage missing the crucial linchpin of a permanent race engineer, the dream start is currently clouded by uncertainty. The next few weeks leading up to the Bahrain test will be critical. Ferrari must resolve the aero queries and, more importantly, settle the engineer situation, or risk derailing their superstar’s campaign before the lights even go out.

In a moment that shattered hearts across the nation, Jennifer Gibney, the devoted wife of comedy legend Brendan O’Carroll, collapsed into floods of tears as she delivered the devastating update on her husband’s spiralling health crisis. “Oh God… His condition is now truly critical,” she sobbed, her voice cracking with raw anguish during an exclusive interview that has left fans of Mrs. Brown’s Boys reeling in disbelief. The 70-year-old star, famed for his uproarious portrayal of the foul-mouthed matriarch Agnes Brown, has been waging a silent war against advanced coronary heart disease – a brutal, life-threatening illness that has ravaged his arteries and brought him perilously close to heart failure once again. What makes this revelation all the more gut-wrenching? The comic genius has endured it all in stoic silence, even as vicious critics and online trolls have piled on with relentless attacks, labelling his beloved sitcom ‘crude’, ‘outdated’ and ‘an embarrassment to British telly’. Now, as Brendan’s condition deteriorates to a terrifying new low, Jennifer’s tearful plea begs the question: Has the entertainment world’s toxic underbelly finally claimed one of its brightest lights?

The couple, married for two decades and co-stars on the BBC smash-hit, sat down in their sun-drenched Florida home – a world away from the Dublin streets that birthed Brendan’s unbreakable spirit – to bare their souls for the first time. Jennifer, 61, her eyes red-rimmed and hands trembling as she clutched a framed photo of the pair in happier times, painted a harrowing picture of a man pushed to the brink. “He’s been fighting this beast inside him for years – blocked arteries, weakened heart muscle, the works. Doctors say it’s advanced coronary heart disease, the kind that sneaks up and strangles you from the inside. One more blockage, one more stress spike, and… God, I can’t even say it.” Her words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder that behind the laughter and the lewd one-liners, Brendan O’Carroll is a man fighting for his very life.

It was back in 2019 when the first alarm bells rang, but Brendan, ever the showman, brushed it off with a trademark quip. Rushed to hospital after a routine check-up flagged a near-total blockage in his arteries – just one month from a catastrophic heart attack – he underwent emergency surgery to insert stents and clear the deadly clots. “I was this close to popping my clogs,” he joked later on The Late Late Show, his infectious chuckle masking the terror. But that was then. Now, six years on, the disease has roared back with a vengeance. Scans last month revealed multiple new blockages, a dangerously enlarged heart, and plummeting ejection fraction – the grim medical jargon for a pump that’s running on fumes. “His heart’s at 25% capacity,” Jennifer whispered, dabbing at her eyes. “Normal is 55-70. He’s in heart failure territory, and the doctors are blunt: without aggressive intervention – maybe bypass surgery, aggressive meds, or worse – we don’t know how long we’ve got.”

What stings deepest, Jennifer confessed through choking sobs, is how the relentless barrage of criticism has fuelled the fire. Mrs. Brown’s Boys, the unapologetically cheeky sitcom that’s been a ratings juggernaut since 2011, has always divided opinion like a Boxing Day cracker gone wrong. Adored by millions for its saucy innuendos, family chaos, and Brendan’s pitch-perfect drag turn as Agnes – the chain-smoking, tea-swilling Dublin mammy who’s equal parts tyrant and treasure – it’s also been savaged by the chattering classes. “Lowbrow tripe!” thundered one Guardian critic in a 2023 review. “A relic of offensive stereotypes,” sneered another on X (formerly Twitter), where trolls have long feasted on Brendan’s brand of blue-collar humour. The show, which pulls in 7 million viewers per episode and has spawned sold-out tours, films, and a Christmas special that’s become as traditional as the Queen’s Speech, has weathered BAFTA snubs, Ofcom complaints, and endless think-pieces decrying its ‘problematic’ jokes about everything from sexuality to disability.

Brendan, Jennifer revealed, has absorbed it all like a sponge, his dyslexia – a lifelong battle he shares with his sons – making the written barbs cut even deeper. “He’d pore over those reviews late at night, reading them on his tablet even when I begged him not to. ‘Sure, it’s just words, Jenny,’ he’d say with that grin. But I saw the toll – the chest pains he’d dismiss as indigestion, the exhaustion he’d blame on jet lag from our Florida-Dublin hops. The stress from those haters… it’s like poison in his veins, literally worsening the plaque buildup in his arteries.” Medical experts, speaking off the record, agree: chronic stress is a known accelerant for coronary heart disease, spiking cortisol levels that inflame arteries and hasten blockages. For Brendan, whose 2019 scare was partly blamed on decades of heavy smoking (a habit he’s kicked, thank God), the psychological warfare has been the final straw.

The interview, conducted in the couple’s airy Davenport villa – complete with a poolside shrine to Mrs. Brown’s Boys memorabilia – was a masterclass in stiff-upper-lip devastation. Jennifer, herself a fan favourite as Cathy Brown, Brendan’s on-screen daughter-in-law, recounted the moment the latest diagnosis hit like a freight train. It was early September, just as rehearsals kicked off for the 2026 series. Brendan, ever the trooper, had powered through a day of script reads, his Agnes wig perched jauntily, cracking wise about ‘the state of me barnet’. But back home, as the sun dipped over the Everglades, he clutched his chest mid-dinner, gasping, “Jenny, it’s… it’s happening again.” Paramedics rushed him to Orlando Health, where cardiologists delivered the verdict: his coronary arteries, scarred from the previous stents, were 80% occluded in two major branches. The left anterior descending – the ‘widow-maker’ – was teetering on collapse. “They said if he’d waited another day, it could’ve been lights out,” Jennifer wept. “My Brendan, gone because some keyboard warrior called his life’s work ‘trash’ one too many times.”

Brendan’s own words, recorded in a shaky video message from his hospital bed (which Jennifer shared with trembling hands), added a layer of heartrending vulnerability. The usually booming Dublin accent was frail, his cheeks hollowed under the fluorescent lights. “Ah, Jaysus, folks… didn’t mean to give ye a fright. It’s the old ticker playin’ up again – coronary heart disease, they call it. Fancy name for a dodgy pump that’s had enough of me nonsense. But sure, look, I’ve had a grand innings. Laughed with the best of ’em, made me mammy proud. Tell the haters… ah, feck ’em. Life’s too short for bad reviews.” He managed a weak thumbs-up, but the effort left him winded, tears pooling in his eyes. Jennifer, watching the clip for the umpteenth time, buried her face in her hands. “That’s him, you see? Even on death’s door, he’s joking. But inside, it’s killing him.”

The couple’s love story, a beacon amid the gloom, offers a sliver of solace. They met in 1991 on the set of Brendan’s play Mrs. Brown’s Last Wedding, where Jennifer was cast as a nun – a role that quickly evolved into something far more divine. “He was this whirlwind of energy, all cheek and charm, scribbling scripts on napkins,” she recalled with a watery smile. “I fell for the man behind the madness – the one who’d walk miles to post a letter to his mam, or stay up all night helping his kids with homework despite his dyslexia making the words dance.” They tied the knot in 2005 in Vegas – “Elvis officiated, naturally” – blending their families into a raucous clan that includes Brendan’s three surviving kids from his first marriage (son Brendan Jr. tragically died at birth in 1976) and Jennifer’s daughters. Their Florida pad, bought as a tax haven but now a sanctuary, is littered with reminders: Agnes’s iconic cardigan draped over a chair, scripts yellowed with coffee stains, and a wall of fan mail that dwarfs the hate.

Yet, for all the warmth, the shadow of Brendan’s illness looms large. Doctors have mapped a brutal roadmap ahead: immediate angioplasty to reopen the worst blockages, followed by beta-blockers, statins, and a cocktail of anticoagulants that leave him bruised and weary. Lifestyle overhauls – no more red meat, daily cardiac rehab, and enforced rest – clash with his workaholic soul. “He lives for the stage, the roar of the crowd,” Jennifer said. “Cancel the tour? Retire Agnes? He’d rather die.” And that’s the rub: at 70, with a family history of heart woes (his da, Gerard, a carpenter, pegged it young from similar stresses), time is the ultimate adversary. Brendan’s mother, Maureen – a fiery Labour TD who raised 11 kids single-handed after her husband’s death – instilled resilience, but even she couldn’t armour him against this.

The backlash against Mrs. Brown’s Boys has been a festering wound, Jennifer insisted, far more corrosive than any critic lets on. Launched amid the BBC’s push for ‘edgy’ comedy, the show exploded with its blend of panto slapstick and taboo-busting gags. Agnes’s rants on everything from gay marriage (“Me son’s a shirt-lifter? Sure, as long as he’s happy!”) to Brexit (“The EU? Bunch of gobshites!”) drew howls of laughter – and outrage. In 2014, a Ofcom probe into ‘offensive language’ cleared them, but the scars lingered. By 2020, as woke warriors stormed social media, X became a battlefield: #CancelMrsBrown trended after a joke about ‘snowflakes’, with trolls branding Brendan a ‘bigot in drag’. “He’d scroll through it all, heart racing, blood pressure spiking,” Jennifer revealed. “One night, after a particularly vile thread, he had a mini-episode – chest tight, vision blurring. That’s when I knew the hate was literally breaking his heart.”

Fans, though, have been Brendan’s lifeline. From pensioners in Blackpool who credit Agnes with ‘saving their sanity during lockdown’ to teens discovering the show on iPlayer, the devotion is fierce. “Brendan O’Carroll is a national treasure,” tweeted @DublinLaughs last week, amassing 50k likes. “Those critics can sod off – his heart (literal and figurative) is pure gold.” Petitions for a knighthood have circulated for years, and his 2015 Irish Film and Television Award sits proudly on the mantel. Even co-stars rally: Eilish O’Carroll, Brendan’s sister and Winnie McGoogan herself, is battling her own mystery illness (rumours swirl of cancer treatment, though she remains ‘tough as nails’). “We’re all in the trenches together,” she told RTE last month. “Brendan’s our general – if he falls, we all do.”

As the sun set on their interview, Jennifer led a tour of their home, each corner a chapter in Brendan’s improbable rise. Born the youngest of 11 in Finglas, Dublin, in 1955, he lost his da at seven and hustled from butcher’s boy to stand-up comic, penning The Course novels under a female pseudonym before Agnes burst forth. Bankruptcy in the ’90s, a failed film, dyslexia that turned reading scripts into a Herculean task – he’s surmounted it all with gallows humour. “Life’s a right old cod,” he’d say, echoing Agnes. Now, with his heart faltering, that cod feels cruelly prescient.

The medical specifics, laid bare by Jennifer with the help of Brendan’s cardiologist (who spoke anonymously), are as alarming as they are clinical. Coronary heart disease, or CHD, strikes when fatty deposits – plaque – harden in the arteries supplying the heart, narrowing them like rush-hour traffic on the M25. Brendan’s case is textbook advanced: post-2019 stents have restenosed, meaning scar tissue has regrown, while hypertension (skyrocketing from stress) and residual smoking damage have compounded the chaos. His ejection fraction – how forcefully the heart pumps blood – hovers at 25%, perching him on the edge of congestive heart failure, where fluid floods the lungs and legs balloon like overproofed dough. Symptoms? Angina that hits like a sledgehammer during rehearsals, fatigue that flattens him after a single flight, and arrhythmias that jolt him awake at 3am, convinced it’s the end. “He hides it with jokes,” Jennifer said, “but I’ve seen him collapse in the wings, gasping for air while the audience cheers.”

Treatment is a gauntlet: next week’s procedure will thread wires through his groin to blast the blockages with lasers, but risks abound – stroke, rupture, infection. Long-term? A pacemaker looms, alongside a diet of kale smoothies and denial. “He sneaks crisps when I’m not looking,” Jennifer laughed through tears. “My rebel.” But rebellion has its price; without compliance, prognosis darkens to months, not years.

The entertainment world’s reaction has been a mixed bag – shock, support, and the odd sour note. BBC bosses, who renewed the show through 2027, issued a terse statement: “Brendan’s health is our priority; we’ll support him fully.” Pals like Paddy McGuinness (“Me old mucker – get well, you old sod!”) and Dawn French (“Brendan’s laughter is medicine; send him mine!”) flooded socials with love. Yet, whispers persist: will this force a recast? A soft landing for Agnes? Brendan, from his sickbed, scoffs. “Over me dead body – or near enough.”

As night fell, Jennifer clung to hope, invoking their Vegas vows. “In sickness and in health – that’s us. We’ll fight this, like we fought the critics, the flops, the lot.” But her final words, whispered to the camera as sobs wracked her frame, cut deepest: “Oh God… don’t take him yet. The world’s not ready to lose its Brown.” For Brendan O’Carroll, the man who turned pain into punchlines, the punchline now is perilously close to tragedy. Fans, hold your breath – and your hearts – as one of comedy’s kings battles back from the brink.

Amanda Owen, the beloved star of “Our Yorkshire Farm,” recently opened up about her whirlwind life balancing farm responsibilities and raising her nine children. Appearing on “This Morning,” she shared how she navigates the chaos while embracing the fulfilling yet unpredictable nature of rural life.

During the interview, Owen humorously likened her daily routine to firefighting, constantly responding to the demands of her busy household and farm. Despite the challenges, she described the experience as deeply rewarding, revealing that no two days are ever the same on the farm.

Her children, who play an integral role in farm life, were also part of the conversation. Clammy, one of her daughters, recounted a dramatic rescue involving a lamb that had fallen into a mine shaft, showcasing their resilience and hands-on approach to farm duties. Owen emphasized the importance of instilling life skills in her children through their experiences on the farm.

Amanda also discussed the ongoing renovation of a new family home, affectionately named Auntie John’s. The project, which began during the COVID lockdown, is a labor of love as they work to restore the historic building while preserving its character. The children are actively involved, helping with everything from designing their unique cupboard bed to installing a new water supply.

The family’s dynamic was on full display as they joked about their various farm animals and the personalities of their pet lambs. Owen shared how some lambs earn their names based on their behavior, highlighting the unique bond they share with their livestock.

As the conversation shifted to the children’s aspirations, it was clear that each one has their own dreams. From academics to farming and even ballet dancing, Owen’s children are encouraged to pursue their passions, demonstrating the supportive environment she has cultivated.

As the interview wrapped up, Amanda expressed her gratitude for the chance to step away from the farm, even if just for a moment. She and her children are set to return to their Yorkshire home, where life continues to unfold in delightful chaos. The latest series of “Our Yorkshire Farm” premieres tonight, giving fans a closer look at this extraordinary family’s life.

“I CAN’T LEAVE HER — NOT NOW, NOT EVER.”  Britain has been left shaken as football icon Harry Redknapp, 78, keeps a relentless bedside vigil beside his wife Sandra after she was rushed to hospital with recurring pneumonia, cancelling every public commitment and refusing to move an inch from her side. Those close to the couple say exhaustion is etched across his face, but his grip on her hand never loosens — a silent act of devotion that has reduced fans to tears. Speaking in a breaking voice, Harry made it clear this is not just fear, but lifelong love being tested to its limit: “After 58 years together, there’s nowhere else I’m meant to be.” Witnesses say the moment captured — Harry leaning in, whispering to her through the beeping machines — felt unbearably raw, as if the nation were intruding on something sacred. Social media has flooded with prayers and heartbreak, many calling it “the purest love story Britain has seen in years,” while one message echoed louder than all the rest: if this is the edge of life and loss, Harry Redknapp is choosing love — and daring fate to look him in the eye.

Legendary former football manager Harry Redknapp, 78, is demonstrating to the entire nation the extraordinary power of devotion as his wife, Sandra, 77, remains hospitalized following an emergency admission. Images of Harry keeping vigil hour after hour by her bedside at St Mary’s Hospital in Paddington, London, have become a symbol of enduring love after nearly six decades.

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Witnesses at the hospital describe a touching scene: Harry barely moved from his plastic chair since December 9, 2025. Anxiety and devotion were clearly etched on his face every time he gripped Sandra’s hand tighter, especially when the monitors beeped. A close friend revealed Harry’s choked-up whisper outside the ward: “I can’t leave her… not now, not ever.”

Sandra was rushed to the hospital on December 7 after collapsing at their Bournemouth home with severe breathing difficulties. Initial reports suggest a recurrence of pneumonia—the same illness that nearly claimed her life in 2017—now complicated by her long-standing battle with rheumatoid arthritis and recent mobility issues.

Harry, who has always publicly called Sandra “his rock” since they met at 17, cancelled all professional commitments, including his punditry slot on Sky Sports, to care for his wife 24/7.

Those close to him confirm that Harry has barely eaten or slept, sustaining himself only on vending-machine coffee and sheer willpower. One visitor shared: “He holds her hand like it’s the only thing keeping her here.” Nurses at the hospital were also moved by his dedication, recounting how Harry continuously tells his wife stories from their life—from their first dance, their children, to West Ham’s FA Cup victory—as if desperately pleading for her to stay.

Their 58-year love story has entered football folklore. Married in 1967, they have navigated tragedy (the 1990 car crash in Italy that killed Harry’s friend and left him with a fractured skull), triumph (Harry’s 2008 FA Cup win with Portsmouth), and relentless media scrutiny. The 2017 pneumonia scare saw Harry cancel an I’m a  Celebrity stint to be with her, famously stating: “Football’s nothing compared to her.”

The entire nation is collectively sending well wishes, with the hashtag #StayStrongSandra reaching 400,000 posts. Their son, Jamie Redknapp, shared a childhood photo of his parents dancing, with the message: “Mum, you’re tougher than all of us. We love you.”

Doctors remain cautiously optimistic, with Sandra’s condition described as “stable but serious.” Harry told a friend: “She’s my world. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a nation that has followed their love story from East End ballrooms to Wembley glory, Harry Redknapp’s greatest victory is not on the pitch, but the hand he resolutely refuses to let go.

The dawn of a new era in Formula 1 is never quiet. It is a time of nervous energy, frantic mechanics, and the deafening roar of engines that promise to redefine the sport. In the sun-drenched paddock of the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya, the Haas F1 Team has officially unleashed its challenger for the 2026 season, the VF-26. But as young prodigy Oliver Bearman reveals, stepping into this brave new world of regulation changes is a double-edged sword, offering both “super impressive” reliability and technically terrifying hurdles that are already testing the team’s resolve.

The Short Winter Ends: A Return to Speed

For Oliver Bearman, the transition from the off-season to the cockpit has been abrupt yet exhilarating. The young Brit, now a central figure in Haas’s campaign, wasted no time shaking off the winter rust. Speaking candidly after his first proper run in the dry, Bearman’s enthusiasm was palpable.

“It was a short winter break,” Bearman admitted, a testament to the relentless nature of modern Formula 1. “But in typical racing driver form, after a few days, I was ready to feel some speed again.”

The journey to Barcelona began under the grey skies of Fiorano, Ferrari’s private test track, where the VF-26 first turned a wheel. That shakedown, however, was far from ideal conditions. “Fiorano was a good warmup of course, it was wet all day,” Bearman noted. Despite the rain, the team managed to execute their allocated plan, a small victory that set the stage for the real test in Spain. Transitioning from the slippery, wet tarmac of Italy to the grip-heavy dry circuit of Barcelona, Bearman expressed a distinct relief: “It’s really nice to feel the car underneath me.”

The “Small Issue” That Revealed a Big Challenge

However, the glitz of a new car launch quickly fades when faced with the brutal realities of mechanical engineering. Tuesday morning in Barcelona presented the first true stumble for the American outfit. While Bearman prepared for his afternoon stint, his teammate, referred to simply as “Esteban” (referencing the experienced Esteban Ocon), encountered a hurdle that brought the garage to a standstill.

Bearman described it as a “small issue,” but his subsequent explanation peeled back the layers on just how complex the 2026 machinery truly is. In previous seasons, a minor glitch might have been a quick fix—a flurry of hands, a swap of parts, and the car would be back on track in twenty minutes. Not anymore.

“Unfortunately we had a small issue,” Bearman explained, maintaining a calm demeanor despite the setback. “But that’s what this is all about really. We expect to have these issues.”

The delay, however, was disproportionate to the severity of the problem, highlighting a critical learning curve for the mechanics. “The problem we have that would have taken maybe 30 minutes with last year’s car… took a lot longer,” Bearman revealed. The reason? The sheer intricacy of the VF-26. “Everybody’s learning the car, the new bits and procedures… there’s a few more intricate details and there’s just so much more to the power unit compared to what we’ve been used to.”

This admission is significant. It underscores the massive technical leap Formula 1 has taken with the 2026 regulations. The power units are denser, more complicated, and packed with new technology that turns even routine maintenance into a puzzle for the world’s best mechanics.

A “Super Impressive” feat of Endurance

Despite the morning hiccups, the prevailing mood within the Haas camp is one of quiet confidence, bolstered by a stunning performance earlier in the week. Before the cameras arrived in Barcelona, the team had already put the VF-26 through a torture test that defied expectations.

Bearman highlighted Monday’s achievement with pride. In a sport where new cars often struggle to complete a handful of laps without overheating or failing, Haas managed something extraordinary. “To be out at this test and do a whole day… we completed more than two race distances, closer to three actually, with no major issues,” Bearman stated, his voice tinged with genuine admiration for his crew. “It is super, super impressive for our team.”

Covering nearly three Grand Prix distances—roughly 900 kilometers—on the very first proper day of running is a statement of intent. It suggests that while the car is complex to fix, it is robust when running. “I think everybody should be really proud of that achievement,” Bearman added. This reliability is the bedrock upon which Haas hopes to build its season, aiming to escape the midfield dogfight and punch upwards.

The Driver’s Voice in a New Era

Perhaps the most exciting aspect for Bearman, and indeed for F1 fans, is the shift in power dynamics between the engineer and the driver. The 2026 regulation overhaul acts as a “hard reset” for the grid. Data from previous years is largely obsolete; simulational models are being rewritten in real-time. In this vacuum of knowledge, the feedback from the human in the cockpit becomes more valuable than gold.

Bearman recognizes this unique opportunity. “It’s my first time being in this situation with a regulation change where as drivers we can have so much impact on the end result,” he said.

In a stable regulatory period, the car’s development path is often set in stone, determined by wind tunnels and CFD clusters. But right now, the VF-26 is a blank canvas. Every comment Bearman makes about brake bias, corner entry, or power delivery directly shapes the upgrades that will arrive in Melbourne, Bahrain, and beyond. “Every lap is a learning experience for us at this stage,” he noted. “It’s a great prospect.”

The Road Ahead: Mileage is King

As the sun began to dip over the Catalan hills, Bearman’s focus remained singular: mileage. The “small issue” of the morning had eaten into valuable track time, and the afternoon plan was to recoup those lost kilometers.

“A lot of mileage is the plan,” Bearman asserted. “It’s very early stages in this cycle of regulations… the afternoon will be about getting back out there and finding more about what this car has to offer.”

The “clean running” up until the morning snag had lulled the paddock into a sense of security, but the complexity of the repairs served as a wake-up call. The 2026 cars are beasts of a different nature. They are faster, smarter, but also more temperamental. For Haas, a team that has historically battled with resource management, the efficiency of their learning curve will define their season.

Oliver Bearman stands at the forefront of this challenge. Young, hungry, and armed with a car that has already proven it can run the distance, he is ready to push the VF-26 to its limits. The winter was short, the learning curve is steep, and the mechanical beasts are more complex than ever. But as Bearman strapped back in, ready to unleash the new power unit on the Barcelona straights, one thing was clear: the race for 2026 has well and truly begun.

SH0CK HEALTH REVEAL: Emma Willis breaks silence after secret heart surgery — as doctors discover a hole she never knew she had and husband Matt ‘never leaves her side’

Emma Willis has revealed she underwent keyhole heart surgery after  doctors found a hole in her heart

Emma Willis has revealed she recently underwent keyhole heart surgery after doctors discovered she had been living with a hole in her heart since birth — a diagnosis that came as a complete shock.

The  TV presenter, 49, took to Instagram on Wednesday and shared several photos of herself taken in hospital following the procedure (pictured with husband Matt)

The former Big Brother host told fans she discovered she has had a hole in her heart since she was born and so had surgery at the Royal Brompton Hospital in London

The 49-year-old TV presenter shared the news with fans in a deeply emotional Instagram post on Wednesday, alongside a series of hospital photos taken in the aftermath of the procedure.

Emma explained that following medical investigations last year, doctors confirmed the congenital condition — leading to surgery at Royal Brompton Hospital.

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‘It feels strange even saying it out loud’

Keyhole heart surgery involves making small incisions in the chest as opposed to the breastbone as in traditonal open heart surgery

In her candid message, the former Big Brother host admitted the experience still feels surreal.

“A few weeks ago, I had keyhole heart surgery — which feels very strange to write, and even stranger when I say it out loud,” she wrote.

The surgeon accesses the heart through the incisions, allowing for a less invasive approach with fewer complications and a faster recovery time

She praised the hospital team who guided her from diagnosis through to surgery, describing them as “absolutely incredible,” before paying a heartfelt tribute to her husband, Matt Willis, who she said “never left my side.”

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Living for decades without knowing 

In a lengthy post, Emma thanked her husband Matt and the staff at the Royal Brompton Hospital who looked after her

Emma revealed she had unknowingly lived with the condition for nearly five decades.

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“Turns out I’ve been pottering around for 48 years blissfully unaware I had a hole in my heart,” she said.
“Isn’t it bonkers what’s happening in our bodies that we have no idea about?”

She went on to express awe at modern medicine — and the professionals behind it.

Emma and Matt have been together for more than 20 years and they have three children together – Isabelle, 15, Ace, 13, and Trixie, eight (pictured in 2024)

“What blows my mind even more is the wonders of modern medicine, and the spectacular people who save, fix and help us every single day,” she added.
“They are the real superstars.”

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‘A spectacular pair of hands’

Emma named and thanked several members of her medical team, singling out her surgeon, Dr Ee Ling Heng, in particular.

“She was recommended to me as ‘a spectacular pair of hands’ — but my God, she’s that and so much more,” Emma wrote.

“She made me feel instantly comfortable while being incredibly professional and informative. I ask a million questions — and she answered them with the patience of a saint.”

Emma added that she knew immediately she was in safe hands.

“I knew as soon as we met that she was the woman I wanted poking around in my heart,” she said.
“Thank you Ee Ling — you’re one in a trillion.”

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What is keyhole heart surgery?

Keyhole heart surgery involves small incisions in the chest rather than opening the breastbone, making it a far less invasive alternative to traditional open-heart surgery.

Surgeons access the heart through these incisions, reducing complications and significantly shortening recovery time — an option increasingly used for congenital heart conditions.

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A marriage tested — and strengthened

Emma and Matt Willis have been together for more than 20 years and share three children: Isabelle, 15, Ace, 13, and Trixie, eight. The couple married in 2008 and are approaching their 20th wedding anniversary.

Over the years, they have been open about facing challenges, including Matt’s past struggles with drug and alcohol addiction.

More recently, Matt has spoken publicly about how couples therapy helped transform their marriage after they began counselling in 2020.

“We weren’t in trouble,” Matt previously explained. “We just had certain things we couldn’t get past.”

He admitted Emma was initially reluctant but later agreed therapy had been “transformative,” helping them better understand one another and strengthen their bond.

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An outpouring of support

Following Emma’s announcement, fans flooded her comments with messages of love, admiration and well wishes — praising her honesty, courage and positivity.

As she continues her recovery, Emma’s story has resonated deeply, reminding many that even the most familiar faces can be quietly fighting unseen battles — and that strength often lies in trust, gratitude and love.

BBC weather presenter Carol Kirkwood has teased her future plans (Picture: BBC)

After more than a quarter of a century as one of Britain’s most trusted television faces, Carol Kirkwood has confirmed she is leaving the BBC — and the reason, she admits, is deeply personal.

The much-loved BBC Breakfast weather presenter, 63, fought back tears as she announced live on air that she will step away from the broadcaster in April, revealing she wants to prioritise life with her husband after years of early starts and relentless schedules.

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“I Love My Husband More Than My Job”

The author revealed she plans to focus on her writing in her retirement (Picture: Jeff Spicer/Getty Images)

Sitting on the iconic red sofa alongside presenters Sally Nugent and Jon Kay, Carol delivered her news moments after finishing her regular forecast — visibly emotional as she spoke.

“So I’m going to be leaving,” she said.
“It’s really hard — really hard — for me to say this.

Carol previously admitted she feared being axed in the next 10 years (Picture: Karwai Tang/WireImage)

“I love my job. I love you guys, my weather colleagues, every department I’ve worked with. And of course, all the viewers I’ve been so engaged with for many years.”

Struggling to keep her composure, Carol added:

“I didn’t want to get emotional, but you two are my friends, and I love you dearly.”

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Choosing Love — And a Life Beyond Early Mornings

Carol went on to explain that her decision was driven by a desire to spend more time with her husband, Steve Randall, whom she married in 2023.

“I want to spend more time with my gorgeous husband, Steve,” she said.
“We’re ships that pass in the night, so I’m really looking forward to doing that. We want to travel as well.s

“I’ve loved my job, I’ve loved working at the BBC — but I love my husband more than my job.”

Injecting humour through the emotion, she joked:

“I don’t want to be coming in on my Zimmer frame going, ‘I can’t reach the Northern Isles anymore!’”

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A Career That Defined British Mornings

Carol, who grew up in Morar on Scotland’s west coast, joined the BBC in 1998 and has been a fixture on BBC Breakfast since 2010.

Over the years, she has covered major national moments and iconic events including Wimbledon, the Chelsea Flower Show and Royal Ascot, becoming one of the most recognisable weather presenters in the country.

Her work at the BBC has extended beyond breakfast television, with regular appearances on The One Show, and a memorable turn on Strictly Come Dancing in 2015, where she reached week seven alongside professional partner Pasha Kovalev.

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“An Absolute Privilege”

In a separate written statement released by the BBC, Carol reflected on her long career with warmth and gratitude.

“It’s been an absolute privilege to bring you the weather every day,” she said.
“My job is something I’ve never taken for granted and I’ve loved every minute.

“From early starts and all manner of forecasts, I’ve shared it with incredible colleagues at BBC Breakfast, BBC Weather and programmes across the BBC.

“I’d like to thank them for their support and friendship which has meant the world.”

Addressing viewers directly, she added:

“And to those watching and listening at home — thank you for all the kindness you have shown me over the years. Being part of your mornings has been a joy.”

She concluded:

“This hasn’t been an easy decision to make, but it feels like the right moment to step away. I’ll carry with me the most wonderful memories.”

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BBC Pays Tribute

The BBC praised Carol’s legacy in a statement, with interim director of BBC News and Current Affairs Jonathan Munro saying:

“Carol’s contribution to BBC News and BBC Weather has been exceptional.

“From major national moments to the everyday forecasts that are such an important part of our audience’s lives, she has set the gold standard for accurate, valued journalism — always delivered with an appropriately sunny outlook.

“She will be greatly missed by teams across the BBC. We wish her all the best for the future.”

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The End of an Era

For millions of viewers, Carol Kirkwood has been more than a weather presenter — she has been a constant, reassuring presence through decades of change, triumph and uncertainty.

As she prepares to say her final goodbye this spring, breakfast television will look and feel very different — marking the end of an era shaped by warmth, professionalism and a familiar smile.

It was supposed to be a standard acclimatization session. A few installation laps, a seat fitting check, perhaps a polite wave to the cameras. But when the garage doors opened at the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya and the SF26 roared onto the track, something unexpected happened. Lewis Hamilton didn’t just drive the car; he dissected it. And in doing so, he sparked a high-voltage technical debate that is currently shaking the foundations of Scuderia Ferrari.

The world watched to see if the seven-time champion still had his edge. But inside the secretive halls of the Ferrari garage, the engineers were watching something far more disturbing: telemetry data that defied their predictions.

A Surgical Strike on Day One

Unlike the other drivers who spent their first morning performing basic system checks and getting comfortable, Hamilton bypassed the honeymoon phase entirely. He jumped directly into a “deep exploration phase” of the SF26’s mechanical potential. Witnesses described his approach as having a “surgical coldness.”

In just three fast laps, Hamilton was already manipulating hybrid modes that weren’t even scheduled for the initial test plan. He adapted immediately to the new 2026 “50/50” regulation—which demands perfect symmetry between the thermal engine and electrical system—with a ferocity that caught the pit wall off guard.

Where others were tentative, Hamilton was aggressive. He deployed energy regeneration modes in corners where stability is usually the priority, testing the chassis’s limits. The conclusion was instantaneous and shocking: the SF26 didn’t just withstand the abuse; it thrived on it. It was as if the machine had been waiting for a driver daring enough to handle it with such intensity.

The Clash of Philosophies: The “V” vs. The “U”

The data quickly highlighted a stark contrast between the two men now sharing the red garage. Charles Leclerc, the team’s golden boy and reference point for years, was running a meticulous program. His driving style is characterized by a “U-shaped” line—carrying high minimum speed through the apex, relying on a delicate balance and a smooth overlap between braking and acceleration. It is an effective, beautiful style, but one that operates within a narrow window. A gust of wind or a slight temperature drop can upset that perfect rhythm.

Hamilton, conversely, began defying conventional Ferrari logic. He adopted a “V-shaped” approach: shortening the rotation phase, braking later but with controlled progression, and stabilizing the platform to slam on the accelerator much earlier than expected.

This early power application shifted the center of gravity to the rear axle, generating immense traction out of slow corners. In the telemetry room, the graphs spiked. On the exits of Turn 3 and the final chicane, Hamilton was finding time chunks that Ferrari engineers hadn’t considered viable. He wasn’t just driving the car; he was widening its operating window.

The “Taboo” Question

This is where the story shifts from a sporting update to a potential internal crisis. For three seasons, Ferrari has designed cars that are extremely responsive but temperamental—machines tuned to the razor-thin preferences of Charles Leclerc. They were fast when the stars aligned, but fragile when conditions changed.

But as the engineers stared at their screens, a new school of thought emerged. The SF26, under Hamilton’s direct influence, was showing itself to be an adaptable, universal weapon.

This raised an uncomfortable, almost taboo question within Maranello: What if the car was not built for Charles Leclerc, but for someone like Lewis Hamilton?

It sounds paradoxical. The car was developed based on years of feedback from Leclerc. Yet, the newcomer unlocked its true potential by ignoring that feedback and applying his own physical and dynamic principles. The realization has put Ferrari’s entire operating model in check. Some technical staff are now quietly asking if they have been unconsciously limiting the car’s development by focusing on a single reference point.

Leclerc on High Alert

For Charles Leclerc, the Barcelona test was a wake-up call. It wasn’t a hostile takeover—Hamilton is too experienced for petty garage politics—but it was a “centrifugal force” that shifted the team’s gravity.

Leclerc is known for his speed, but for the first time, he is sharing a garage with a driver whose influence transcends lap times. Hamilton brought structure, technical authority, and a race-reading ability that resonated instantly with the mechanics.

The change was subtle but palpable. There were longer silences in the box. Engineers lingered a few seconds longer on the data streams from Car 44. Hamilton’s feedback began to carry its own weight, independent of established hierarchies.

Leclerc, usually diplomatic, began showing signs of tension. His conversations with race engineers grew longer and more urgent. He started experimenting with setup changes, driven by a sudden need to regain an advantage that, until recently, seemed guaranteed. He knows that this is no longer just about beating a teammate; it’s about survival. He has to reinvent himself from the “future of Ferrari” to a leader who can hold his ground against the most successful driver in history.

A New Era, A New Identity

The rivalry at Ferrari is not open warfare; there are no shouting matches or on-track collisions yet. It is a silent, psychological pulse. Hamilton exerts pressure simply by existing and executing with damaging precision.

As the tests concluded, the narrative had irrevocably changed. The SF26 is no longer just Charles Leclerc’s car. It has proven to be a flexible platform that mirrors the soul of the driver behind the wheel. And right now, that reflection looks a lot like Lewis Hamilton.

The big question in the paddock is no longer whether Leclerc is fast enough. The question is whether he can withstand the hidden pressure of a teammate who doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone. The SF26 has yet to win a race, but it has already claimed its first victory: it has forced Ferrari to look in the mirror and question everything they thought they knew about their own technical identity.

In moments of breaking news, national tragedy, and uncertainty, his voice was steady. His presence was reassuring. He delivered the hardest headlines with clarity, dignity, and compassion — never raising the temperature, never centring himself.

Now, it is Dermot’s own story that has stopped the nation in its tracks.

A Familiar Voice, A Private Reality

The 67-year-old broadcasting icon has revealed he is living with advanced prostate cancer — a diagnosis that stunned colleagues, viewers, and generations who grew up trusting his voice as part of daily life.

Yet those closest to him say that even as his body has weakened, something essential has not changed.

His kindness.

“Even on His Weakest Days, He Thinks of Others”

Behind closed doors, life has slowed.

Dermot’s wife has spoken quietly about what mornings now look like at home. Some days, she says, he struggles to sit upright. Treatment takes its toll. Energy comes and goes.

But even then, she revealed, Dermot still asks the nurses how they are — before saying a word about himself.

“He still tries to smile for us,” she said.
“Even when every breath is difficult.”

The house that once echoed with debate, laughter, and newsroom anecdotes has become gentler — shaped by medication schedules, whispered jokes, and moments of fragile peace.

The Journalist Who Never Lost His Light

Former colleagues describe Dermot as the same man they always knew.

He reported from conflict zones. He stood at the centre of national crises. He delivered truth without theatrics — only integrity.

“Even now,” one longtime colleague said,
“he lights up every room. Hospital staff adore him. He refuses to let illness define who he is.”

In recent interviews, Dermot admitted he nearly ignored the early warning signs.

“I thought I was just exhausted,” he said.
“We journalists are always moving. But I should have listened to my body sooner.”

His message now is simple — and urgent:

If something doesn’t feel right, don’t wait. Get checked.

Love at the Centre of Everything

At home, family has become the anchor.

Evenings are spent remembering holidays, first homes, and moments that once passed too quickly. They talk about laughter that left them breathless. About ordinary days that now feel precious.

“When his eyes open, even for a moment,” his wife said,
“I still see the same spark — the man I fell in love with.”

Across social media, messages continue to pour in from viewers and colleagues alike:

“You guided us through the hardest news. Now we’re sending you strength.”
“You were part of our mornings for years. Thank you, Dermot.”

More Than a Broadcaster

To many, Dermot Murnaghan is not just a journalist.

He represents decency in public life.
Compassion under pressure.
Calm when it mattered most.

Though his body is fighting a brutal battle, those closest to him insist his spirit remains unmistakable.

“He still smiles,” his wife said softly.
“And in those smiles, he’s still Dermot — thoughtful, witty, and full of love.”

Britain may one day lose a familiar voice from its screens.

But the values that voice carried — honesty, empathy, and quiet courage — will endure far beyond the broadcast.

This may be Dermot Murnaghan’s hardest fight yet.

And still, even now, he is thinking of everyone else.