A father of twin daughters died of a rare cancer, which affects roughly two in 100,000 people, after initially dismissing stomach pain as a “pulled ab muscle”.
Tasha and Serena Kainth, 30, from Solihull, said their father, Harmi, “wasn’t worried” about the initial abdominal pain in March 2022. However, after a month, it “didn’t go away”, and unusual fatigue set in.
By late July, Serena said Harmi had lost more than four stones, suffered jaundice, dark urine, and lost his appetite, alongside "constant hiccups" that disrupted sleep, and "couldn’t even walk up the stairs" without breathlessness.
Following a CT scan, an August 5 phone call confirmed Harmi’s cholangiocarcinoma diagnosis, aged 59.
This type of cancer is found in the bile ducts, small tubes that connect different organs, including the liver and gallbladder. The main symptoms can include jaundice, itchy skin, darker urine, loss of appetite, feeling tired or generally unwell, vomiting, a high temperature, or stomach pain, according to the NHS.
Serena said her father had more than 100 hospital appointments over the next two years, including multiple rounds of chemotherapy, surgeries, and check-ups, and he visited A&E six times for life-threatening emergencies like sepsis.
Harmi was admitted to a Marie Curie hospice in October 2024, where he died “peacefully” a week later, aged 62.
“As much as people try to empathise – and our friends were amazing – but until you go through something like that yourself, it’s always going to feel isolating and lonely,” Tasha said.
“We’re sharing our story because end-of-life care is important.
“Everybody’s going to die one day, but it isn’t really spoken about.
“Marie Curie is amazing at what they do, and thanks to them, Dad died peacefully.”
Tasha and Serena described their father as a “great dad” who was “always there” for them, but he was a “typical strong man” and did not like to worry anyone else about his health.
After first noticing his symptoms of abdominal pain and fatigue in March 2022, Serena said her father “tried to hide” it in front of his daughters and Tasha added that he “probably didn’t want us to worry”.
When Harmi’s symptoms did not improve after a month, his wife, Sharan, encouraged him to go to the doctor, where he had blood tests, and he was prescribed acid reflux tablets.
Tasha said Harmi’s blood tests initially came back “fine”, but when his symptoms did not improve that spring, further blood tests showed his liver functions “starting to change”.
Over the course of five months between initial symptoms and formal diagnosis, Tasha said her father’s condition “deteriorated really quickly”, and she had “never seen anything like it”.
Serena added: “He’d just lie on the sofa all day because he didn’t have the energy to move.”
When the family was told they would need to wait around six weeks for a referral scan, they decided to continue Harmi’s healthcare through his workplace private medical insurance.
After a CT scan, Harmi received a call on August 5 to confirm his rare diagnosis of bile duct cancer, four months after first seeing a doctor and presenting with symptoms.
Serena said: “I just remember the doctor was like, ‘I’m really sorry to say it’s cancer’ over the phone, and then he put the phone down, and Dad just burst into tears.
“The three of us just wrapped our arms around him and gave him a hug, then I remember saying, ‘We’ll look after you; it’s going to be fine’.
“Even though I didn’t know what would happen.”
“It was just really sad,” she added.
The family was told to wait to hear from the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham, but by August 16, Tasha said Harmi became “really ill” and he “couldn’t even move out of bed” so they called a local GP for a home visit.
After assessing their father’s condition, Tasha said a doctor advised the family to call an ambulance, which arrived six hours later and took him to hospital, where medics admitted him “straight away” because they “saw how ill he was”.
Tasha said: “I stayed in A&E overnight until God knows what time in the morning.
“It got to the point where we had to brush his teeth for him… he had rapid breathing, and he was really confused too.”
“Seeing that strong man in your life suddenly not being able to even lift himself up was hard.”
The family was told Harmi “could’ve died” because he needed multiple surgeries to drain his bile ducts and have a stent fitted, so he stayed in hospital for six weeks to stabilise his condition.
Serena said: “As a daughter, one of the worst things is having to leave your dad on his own in a hospital bed after visiting hours are over.
“He was in tears… and you feel so helpless.”
Over the next two years, Harmi had multiple rounds of chemotherapy, immunotherapy and a failed surgery to try to remove the tumour in his bile duct.
Despite treatment, Harmi’s cancer grew and spread to the point he was admitted to hospice care in October 2024.
Harmi died on October 16.
Tasha said: “All of the staff at the hospice were so lovely… which contributes so much to these situations.
“When I personally think of him passing, I don’t feel upset.
“Obviously, it’s heartbreaking, but I just think the way he passed was so peaceful and what he deserved, and also a relief for him because he was out of pain.”
Following their father’s death, Serena and Tasha said they handled grief differently.
Tasha said she struggled with “anticipatory grief” and then felt “numb” when her father died, while Serena – who took on caring responsibilities throughout Harmi’s illness – said she felt “lost”.
The pair said they did art therapy offered by the hospice for “nearly two years”, which helped process their feelings of loss and it is where they met friends who have “gone through the same thing”. The sisters want to raise awareness for rare cancers like cholangiocarcinoma.
Serena said: “As basic as it is, if you feel there’s something wrong with your body, go and get checked out.
“You know your own body… early detection could save your life.”
Marie Curie and Superdrug find that 43 per cent of UK adults avoid talking about death, prompting Marie Curie’s ‘Mani Curie’ pop-up nail bars, where free manicures provide a space to discuss end-of-life conversations.