No one warns you that one traumatic part of breast cancer is the hospital gown. Open at the back. Dignity at the door 😂

Tell your story here. It will absolutely help someone else!

All the women in my family had breast cancer. So I asked my GP for an early mammogram. I was refused. Then one day — plot twist — I get a letter inviting me onto a study for early screening. I booked it immediately. Felt totally fine. No lumps. No symptoms.Then came the dreaded recall. The leaflet said something like: “Of 12 women recalled, only 1 will have to have further testing and treatment.” As the waiting room emptied… I realised I was winning a competition I absolutely did not enter. Biopsy followed. They literally shot metal markers into my boob to flag a 6cm tumour. Then — just to finish me off — another mammogram that hurt like hell. I cried all the way through. Moral of the story? Trust your gut. Book a scan if you can. Never ignore a call for a mammogram! And never assume “feeling fine” means you are. Turns out I did have breast cancer. Because the tumour was high up, I was told a lumpectomy “wouldn’t cut it.” (Yes, I appreciate the accidental pun now.) I was referred to Mr Simon Wood at Charing Cross — apparently one of the best. I absolutely fell on my feet. Summer was a blur of tests and lymph node surgery. Then September came. The big one. I was terrified. The operation was meant to take six hours. It took ten and a half. The next day, Mr Wood explained they’d struggled to extract the veins from my stomach muscles to rebuild my chest. Who knew I had elite-level abs? Shame they showed up at the wrong time. The pain was brutal. I was bent double because they’d taken so much from my tummy. For months I genuinely wondered if I’d ever stand straight again. But by day three? I decided cancer was not getting the last word. I shuffled to the shower with my drain bottles in a plastic bag, one arm barely working, sat on a chair and took forever to wash. Then I blow-dried my hair. Did my make-up. Nearly three hours of determination. When the surgeon arrived with his students, they didn’t recognise me. I was discharged on day five — two days early. I’ve done this journey with positivity, stubbornness and a slightly inappropriate sense of humour.