Dear diary, I've lost my implants... and found true love!
That’s the rollercoaster story of Strictly star SHIRLEY BALLAS, who was back on the show just FOUR days after dramatic breast surgery. Throughout it all, she kept this very personal and encha-cha-chanting journal
July 13, 2018
STANDING, right breast squeezed uncomfortably into the mammogram machine, I feel the colour drain from my face, as the radiographer says: ‘You do know that, even with this technology, it’s very difficult for us to see what’s going on behind a breast implant?’
I’ve had implants for 18 years. They were done in a last- ditch attempt to salvage my marriage to my second husband, dancer Corky Ballas, which had destroyed what little self-esteem I had. And no, I had no idea that they could mask signs of cancer.
I’ve never missed an appointment for my three-yearly routine mammograms, but leave the clinic with the most horrible, sickening dread. What if there are potentially deadly tumours hiding behind my implants?
July 15
TWO days later, I’m still struggling to think of much other than what might be lurking inside my DD breasts. It’s a fear exacerbated by the fact that I’m back home, in Merseyside, taking care of my wonderful mum, Audrey, who is herself recovering from colon cancer surgery.
In an unguarded moment I blurt out my worries, then feel terrible as she has enough on her plate. As I knew it would be, her immediate response is: ‘Why don’t you think about having the implants removed, Shirley?’
Mum never wanted me to have them in the first place. She’d tried telling me it was no way to stop my husband cheating on me, nor the answer to boosting my self-esteem — that was something I needed to work on from the inside. nor did she think big boobs suited my petite size six to eight frame.
August 1
AFTER three weeks, Mum is strong enough for me to return home to SouthEast London. She’s refused chemotherapy — at 82, she’s adamant it’ll do more harm than good and there’s no changing her mind once it’s made up. Until May, when I filmed Who Do You Think You Are? for the BBC and discovered that my maternal great-grandfather had been killed by ‘ multiple tumours’, aged 31, I had always believed that my relatives had largely escaped cancer. One of my aunts died many years ago from the disease.
Family folklore always had it that Mum’s grandad died from a broken heart after his wife left him. Yet within weeks of that shocking revelation, Mum had her diagnosis, then my aunt discovered she had cancer.
Ever since that chilling warning from the radiographer, I’ve been constantly googling breast implants and cancer risk. But I can’t quite bring myself to explore having them removed. It’s a major operation and heaven knows how long I might need off work to recover — or how I’d look afterwards.
I’ve been single for years and am by no means vain but as I spend the autumn months in front of the cameras filming Strictly, and then have a long spell on tour, I need to look my best.
December
PANTOMIME time! I’m the Good Fairy Mother nature in Jack And The Beanstalk in Liverpool and getting along fabulously well with my co-star Danny Taylor, a fellow Scouser who’s playing Fleshcreep, the villain.
And it turns out he’s going through a break- up with his partner. At 45, Danny is oh- sohandsome, and such a gent, opening car doors and carrying bags for me. I’m smitten.
March 2019
DANNY and I have stayed in touch and it turns out the feelings are mutual — we’re dating! Mum has met him and loves him too, which is incredible because she hasn’t approved of any of my boyfriends since I was 15.
While he’s a lovely distraction, worries about my implants are still niggling and one evening, I decide to tell Danny about my fears.
I’m incredibly nervous about his reaction because men I’ve been with in the past have made me self- conscious about my appearance — I’ve been told my boobs are too small, my teeth too crooked, my hair too thin.
So I shed a little tear when he pulls me close and says: ‘You have to do what you feel you need to do for your health.
‘It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, and I love you for who you are.’
June 19
AFTER a great deal of research, and an appointment with a specialist in Liverpool, I’m referred to consultant plastic surgeon norman Waterhouse, at his private clinic in London’s Marylebone. He has a reputation for not only removing implants but also getting rid of every bit of the fibrous scar tissue, known as protective capsules, that form around them.
This is something the body does to anything it recognises as foreign, which says a lot to me about why implants are a bad idea.
My extensive reading has convinced me this is essential to ensure the radiographer can get a clear view during future mammograms.
September 21
STRICTLY is in full swing and I now have a date for my operation:
October 29! Dr Waterhouse would prefer to wait until after the final live show, but fears about what might be hiding inside my breasts — I can’t bring myself to say the C-word — are preying on my mind so much that I can’t bear to delay another minute. I confide in my co-judge Motsi (Mabuse) and she is so supportive. I had an amazing run with Darcey ( Bussell) and found her hilarious — when she left I was the first to shed a tear. She was like a fairy princess.
But when I learnt they were replacing her with Motsi, who I’ve known for 20 years, I was delighted. We’re great friends and I know she’ll be there for me after my surgery.
October 28
I Barely sleep a wink worrying about my op. Why do some people insist on reminding you that general anaesthetics can be risky, just before you’re due to have one?
So I’m wide awake when Danny knocks on my door in the early hours. He’s currently starring in Blood Brothers in york but has insisted on driving six hours through the night to london so he can take me to the Wellington Hospital in St John’s Wood, where I’m booked in for my procedure.
He gives me one of his big bear hugs and tells me everything is going to be fine. Just what I need.
October 29
I’M nil by mouth in readiness for my op, so have to skip my morning cuppa. I’m so grateful to Danny for being here with me. He says there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, but I can think of many places I’d prefer . . .
He’s such a rock — I grew up without a dad and the only other men I’ve known like this were my late brother and my son Mark, who I had with Corky and who is now 33 and a talented musician.
But as I’m wheeled into theatre, I see Danny talking to the nurse, with tears in his eyes, saying: ‘Please bring her back safely’ and realise he’s not really feeling any braver than I am.
The operation lasts four hours, to ensure all the tissue is removed, and the first person I see when I open my eyes afterwards is Danny. Best news of all? My surgeon says there is absolutely no sign of cancer — after more than a year of worry, I burst into tears, of relief!
My breasts have little drains inserted in them, to get rid of any remnants of fluid, and are bandaged, so neither of us can see how they look, but already I feel lighter, physically and emotionally.
October 30
Danny had to take the train back to york for last night’s performance so Mum arrives to escort me home. I’m determined to be back as head judge on Saturday. I’ve told her: ‘I don’t want to hear: “you need to rest.” I need you to get me back on my feet.’
She’s like a sergeant major, making sure I drink lots of fluids, feeding me wholesome soups and salads to build up my strength and getting me up for little walks around the house to avoid blood clots.
at night, she sleeps beside me in bed, just as she did when I was little and unwell. My chest feels very sore but I’ve ditched the morphine. I want a clear head so I can be completely focused come Saturday night.
I won’t take anything stronger than paracetamol and ibuprofen for the inflammation. When I lift up the bandage and look at my breasts in the mirror, I feel so happy. It’s like the old me is finally back.
November 2
IT’S SaTurDay and I wake still feeling delicate but determined not to let my Strictly family down.
But leaving the house to get into the car to the studio I panic — am I doing the right thing or should I rest for longer, like Dr Waterhouse advised? Quick as a flash, Mum sees the look on my face and says: ‘Do not complain, young lady, you made the decision to go back so soon, it was your choice, so get on with it.’
I’m so glad I listened because, when I get there, everyone is just lovely. Motsi gives me a very gentle hug — she’s a real woman’s woman.
Jane, who does my hair and make-up, is so gentle with me, while alexandria, my stylist, has picked a lovely soft bra and a gorgeous power suit which makes me feel fabulous. By the time the cameras are rolling, I feel a million dollars and am ready for action.
November 3
Wake to text messages from Dr Waterhouse saying: ‘now you get back to resting in bed’ and ‘Make sure you’re drinking lots of fluids’. I don’t think he’s a Strictly fan but his friends have told him I was back!
Danny has a night off from his show so is heading down to see me. I am nervous about him seeing my breasts. I share my fears and he says: ‘let me have a look’. I start crying but he is so gentle and, when he sees them, his face lights up.
I can tell he’s as thrilled as I am. Of course, they don’t look like a young woman’s boobs but the surgeon gave them a little lift during the op, so they look pretty amazing for someone who’s almost 60.
The scars are very fine, like two smiley faces. I’m back to a B cup, so certainly not flatchested, and looking at them I question what on earth possessed me to have the implants in the first place.
January 16, 2020
Over Christmas I had another fabulous run in pantomime with Danny. now I’m on the Strictly live Tour with fellow judges Craig revel Horwood and Bruno Tonioli — sadly Motsi can’t join us as she has other work commitments.
I’ve never spoken to Craig about my surgery. I’ve been sensitive since I was the butt of a joke he made about my breasts. (While publicising his book, in late 2018, Craig told an audience that Shirley had worn a very low- cut dress for her Strictly interview, showing off her ‘fake’ breasts, and been told to cover up).
He sent me flowers afterwards and apologised but it still stings a bit that it happened.
On this tour, Craig is a real gentleman, holding my hand to make sure I get off the stairs properly and escorting me to my seat. I love him but I think sometimes people have a lapse of judgment and don’t always understand the impact of what they’re saying on the person they’re saying it about. But I think he understands now.
January 31
THE tour is going brilliantly and my chest is pretty much healed, though my nipples still occasionally feel a little sore.
Dancing is definitely easier with smaller breasts, as is clothes shopping. Perhaps it’s just coincidence but I’ve also felt much healthier this winter, not picking up any of the coughs and colds I usually do.
If I could go back in time, I would never have had implants and, although I wouldn’t tell another woman what to do, I’d urge anyone considering them to really do her research first.
Danny comes to visit me, wherever I am in the country, when he has a day off. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world, at nearly 60, to have met the man of my dreams.
We’re both delighted with the way my little boobies look.
It really is the real deal with him, for sure. I think in 2020 there will be great developments in the relationship. I’m already married to him, in my heart, that’s for sure.
As told to Helen Carroll