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Remembering Laura Weatherall-Plane

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This weekend we lost a pretty phenomenal woman, our Boobette Laura, who had been living with secondary breast cancer for eight years. It’s not often that we’re stuck for words, but when it comes to finding the ones to remember Laura, we’ve got to admit that we’re not sure where to start. We could attempt to do justice to Laura by telling you about her many monikers, including Pride of Plymouth, Resident of the Dancefloor, Fundraiser Extraordinaire, Fancy Dress Professional and, of course, Boobette Queen.

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Or we could try and list all the extraordinary things Laura and her husband Jon have done to raise funds for CoppaFeel!, like climbing Machu Pichu, trekking Iceland or coercing most of the population of South-West England into getting a boob on at the Plymouth Half, year on year.

We could simply tell you about the amazing work Laura did to ensure young people survive cancer, by taking every opportunity possible to remind you to get to know your boobs. We could remember Laura by her immense determination to make sure cancer didn’t ruin her party (or anyone else’s!) and by her sheer refusal to let a crappy illness stop her from doing the things she loved.

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But how we’d like to remember Laura is as the kind of person who taught us how to live our lives gleefully, who reminded us that you’re never too old to be a bit silly, who sought out rude place names and took photos next to them, who ran a half marathon just days after a blood transfusion, who danced to the early hours, and as someone you felt proud to know. And, let’s face it, Laura was the kind of person who did all of this with no desire for praise, and who it’s safe to bet would be telling us to put a sock in it right now. So in honour of one VERY special lady, we’re going to zip it and give her the final word. Over to you, Laura… 

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