The day after, I woke up and thought, ‘That was the high and now I’ll fade away’
The day after my birthday three years ago, I started having visions. It felt as though honey was pouring out of my eyes. I’d been diagnosed with breast cancer 18 months previously, but after treatment I’d thought I was on the road to recovery. Four days later, I was told I had secondary breast cancer in the brain.
I survived the first operation to remove the malignant tumour, but within weeks it had grown back, despite radiotherapy. It was removed again, and shortly after that, in October 2015, I was told I was dying. I was 42. The doctors said there was no more they could do for me. No one expected the cancer not to return; I was given “months, not years” to live and began preparing for my last Christmas.
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