Until January 2025, I was a healthy, active 45-year-old, running daily, lifting weights and doing Muay Thai training. I was planning my May wedding and excited about what life had in store for me and my fiancé, Marlon. I was also getting more infections, tired a lot and had night sweats, but at my age I thought it was perimenopause. Then one morning, my neck swelled up. I assumed it was mumps, but blood tests showed something significantly worse – the swelling in my neck was tumours. I had acute lymphoblastic leukaemia and was immediately admitted to hospital. At the time, we didn’t know if this was terminal, and I went from planning my wedding to writing my will and planning my funeral arrangements.
It felt like the rug had been pulled from under us. The impact a cancer diagnosis and chemotherapy treatment have on a person’s mental health is intense. Not knowing if it’s terminal and putting yourself through painful treatment without any guarantees that it’ll work. The physical pain of bone marrow biopsies and lumbar punctures. Hair loss changing how you look, losing your ability to walk or take care of yourself, not to mention the ever-present risk of death.
The first few rounds of chemotherapy didn’t work, and at one point, I had cancer in the brain. This caused issues with motor skills: it felt like my mind and my body were no longer my own. I spent the next six months in hospital having chemotherapy.
All my hair fell out, including my eyebrows and lashes. My belly became inflamed and bloated (chemo belly), and neuropathy in my feet and legs made it difficult for me to walk. I went from being strong and healthy to being disabled, needing help at times to get changed or stand up.
I went from feeling pretty to being bald, with a pot belly and bent over in pain from walking. My identity and self-esteem were shattered.
I tried to remain positive and focused during treatment, but nothing can prepare you for this and how it impacts your mental health and your self-perception. If I’m brutally honest, the journey and treatment were so physically painful that sometimes I just wanted to quit. Then I felt guilty and ashamed for wanting to give up.
I became withdrawn. It felt like no one understood what I was going through or how I felt. My family didn’t know the pain I was in. They told me to remain positive, but how can I always be expected to stay positive? I was hurt when several of my friends ghosted me.
They didn’t know what to say or how to deal with my condition, so they stopped contacting me, leaving me feeling abandoned and rejected. All I needed were friends to listen to me, without judgement or trying to convince me to do things or be a certain way.
That’s why, along with blood cancer charity DKMS, I’m supporting the Daily Express Cancer Care campaign – during Blood Cancer Awareness Month in September and beyond.
I’m so thankful for my Christian faith, for my husband Marlon and for the friends and family that stuck by me, visited me in hospital and regularly checked in on me to make sure I’m okay.
So, if you know someone who’s going through a cancer diagnosis or chronic illness, don’t underestimate the difference you can make by just being there, by listening and being a safe space for them to talk openly about how they feel.
And remember, it’s okay to cry, it’s okay to be angry, or to wallow in self-pity. Just don’t stay there. I had to keep moving and take it one day at a time. There are good days and there are bad days. And that’s okay – tomorrow is a new day.