Here are 10 things I learned along the way. 

Cervical screening is just as important as knowing the symptoms.

My diagnosis came after a routine cervical screening. I was 43, a single mum of a 3 year old with a full-time corporate job, scrambling to keep on top of childcare, work, travel, house, friends and health admin.  Making sure you go for screening could help you prevent cervical cancer from developing and save your life.  

The NHS can move FAST when it needs to. 

The flurry of checks and scans, decisions and dates, meant the following weeks were a blur. From a life-saving point of view, this was great. There was little time to think. Keep a diary and write down a list of questions you want to ask before your appointment.  

You can transfer to another part of the country for treatment.

I live in London, my family is in Yorkshire and I had no support network. I knew I was going to need help to recover and support for my son. So the hospital connected me with a new consultant in Leeds. 

Different consultants have different opinions. 

I had a stage 1B2 tumour on my cervix and I was set to have a radical hysterectomy, including removal of my ovaries. My new consultant recommended I keep my ovaries, so that the surgery did not automatically trigger menopause. I am so grateful for that advice now. 

Living well was my priority. 

My tumour was successfully removed and that was good news. But I was more concerned with whether my bowel and bladder still worked, and if I’d be able to have sex in future. I felt very alone in that. 

Support from family and friends was the greatest gift I have ever received.

While I recovered in Yorkshire for a month, I stayed with my sister and my son stayed with my cousin. Once home, friends bathed my son, cooked dinner, brought jigsaws. I had always been so independent, and now I was learning to receive. 

Charities are a lifeline. 

I needed to learn how to recover. So, I went through the list of charities I’d been given on diagnosis day and not looked into. I didn’t know where to start or what I would need, so I decided to contact as many as I could. I discovered The Eve Appeal’s nurse for when I was worried about symptoms, I joined support groups and social groups such as those run by Shine, and I accessed counselling and complimentary therapy treatments through the hospital. There’s a service called Cancer Care Map now, that makes finding these services easier. 

Returning to work is unexpectedly hard. 

Work was a key part of my identity, so I was keen to get back to it. But I underestimated how vulnerable I would feel. Cancer is scary, for some even icky, and the discomfort caused bad behaviour in colleagues – previously friendly people withdrew. It took 18 months – and a panic attack in an airport – before I stopped fighting to get back to how things were.   

Mental wellbeing is a long-term commitment. 

It started with all the therapies, then came the blogs and journaling, then the fundraising events, the speaking, and the connecting with others – one long deep breath at a time. The spaces between anxiety attacks get bigger with time, insomnia eases, I’m better with noise and crowds now. I’m learning how to build a community. 

Cancer taught me how to build a better life. 

I learned how receiving and giving are mutually dependent – the kindness I learned to receive spurs me to give. I learned how fear cracks you open and then lets the light in, and that inspires me. When I hesitate, I remember what kind of role model I want to be for my son – I have become a better parent. And I am grateful for all the friends I have made along the way.