‘I woke up one day and a voice in my head said: Check your right breast’
I was told it was grade three, which means the cells were multiplying fast and the cancer was likely to grow and spread. It was aggressive. They thought there was 23mm of DCIS; all high grade, and exactly where I’d said.
But one thing puzzled me: the area I’d felt was much bigger. Was I mistaken, or were they? They said I needed a lumpectomy followed by radiotherapy — I wasn’t at all sure this was enough.
I decided to wait until I had got to grips with the news before telling family; I wanted an action plan for everyone to cling to.
My cousin Vanessa, who had survived breast cancer herself, recommended Manchester’s Nightingale Centre. There, I handed my consultant the article about my father. I said I was convinced I could feel much more cancer than doctors had detected.
‘I think at least a third of my breast is affected,’ I said. ‘A lumpectomy might not clear it. Wouldn’t it be better to have a mastectomy?’
He listened kindly, but clearly didn’t believe me. It was my choice, he said, but he wouldn’t recommend such major surgery. ‘Having a mastectomy would be like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.’ I advise my clients to take medical advice, and now it was my turn. We all make mistakes. I hoped I was mistaken, and not the doctors. I agreed to the plan but insisted on a histology report — a detailed analysis of cells only doctors normally see.
Telling my daughters was almost as hard as telling them their father had died. They cried. I hugged them and forced a smile. ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ I said. ‘No one knows when they’ll die, but look at me; I’m not frightened.’
I carried on as normal and, happily, they followed my example.
After the lumpectomy, I was initially told my tissue margins were clear — but the histology report showed they weren’t.
Worse still, part of my DCIS had spread outside the duct, exactly where I’d felt the tiny ‘hotspot’. I was given the option of a second operation to have my lymph nodes tested. I took it, just to be sure.
At the same time, they removed more breast tissue to check. And still I wasn’t clear.
On November 6, Darren sat holding my hand yet again as my consultant told me a mastectomy might now be on the cards. Five months after I’d diagnosed my own cancer, malignant cells were still creeping, clandestine, through my breast ducts.
Darren was a rock. We had only been together for a year but he assured me he loved my girls as well as me. He said that if the need arose, he would raise them, with my family’s help.
Between operations, I continued working. I didn’t want to let clients down. I didn’t mention my illness, since many had much more advanced forms of the disease.
Ironically, I felt really healthy and my clients did well. One client’s surgery to remove his oesophagus was cancelled — after healing, his high-grade cells had vanished. Another was still going strong two years after being told she had only weeks left. Yet, like many healers, I couldn’t treat myself; I couldn’t be objective.
But my colleague and dear friend Liz Maloy kindly gave me remote healing. Although the cancer didn’t vanish, healing may have stopped it spreading. I’m convinced it helped me to recover from surgery and stay positive.
I encourage clients to have NHS treatment as well as healing. We must each find our own path to recovery. I knew I needed surgery, as well as healing, and felt very lucky to have both.
I practised mindfulness, too, and asked for guidance. The answer was always the same: on my psychic screen, written clearly were the words: ‘Mastectomy, mastectomy, mastectomy.’
My wonderful Macmillan nurse encouraged me to trust myself. I spoke to experts and other cancer survivors thanks to charity Breast Cancer Now.
I knew intuitively that a mastectomy with reconstruction using tissue and blood vessels from my tummy was right for me.
I did some research. In a Femail article on ‘Britain’s top breast surgeons’, I found plastic surgeon Stephen McCulley at Nottingham — a world leader in his field.
My lovely Bradford consultant, Richard Linforth, referred me immediately on the NHS and the surgery was booked for February 2019. On February 3, less than three weeks before, my beloved father collapsed and died. He’d had pneumonia and emphysema.
This time, he wouldn’t accept healing, insisting: ‘You need to look after yourself.’
We were, of course, distraught. I was due to be admitted to hospital in Nottingham the day after his funeral. From deep inside, I summoned strength I had not known I possessed.
My mother, sisters and Darren put aside their own grief to look after me and the children. My daughters learned to cook and clean and made me endless cups of tea. I felt so proud of them.
The evening before surgery, I lay in bed, my breast covered in black ink where the scalpel would go. Through my window, I saw a huge double rainbow. I saw it as a sign all would be well.
Despite finding even more DCIS, bringing the total to 90mm, the operation was a great success. I haven’t needed more treatment and was recently discharged.
Today, I feel incredibly grateful not just to my consultants —Mr Linforth and Mr McCulley — but for my own gift, too.
The doctors had never met anyone else who had known they had cancer, as I did. Indeed, they had no previous awareness of the human energy field, though they did tell me that some patients ‘just have a feeling’.
In my case, it was only after two failed lumpectomies and a mastectomy, when all my breast tissue was examined under a microscope, that doctors realised I had been right all along. ‘[An energy field] is not something I’m aware of or familiar with, but I’m not dismissive either,’ said Mr McCulley. ‘I’m not arrogant enough as a scientist and surgeon to say that I know everything.’
An MRI scan would probably have shown up the extensive
Having to tell my daughters was so hard. They cried
Only after did doctors realise I had been right all along
cancer — but this wasn’t offered because mammograms are considered better for screening. MRI scans are time-consuming, expensive and can give ‘false positives’.
I still work as a healer for people and animals. Since Dad’s story was published, grateful clients have donated money to a fund for people who can’t afford fullprice healing.
During lockdown, the fund enabled me to give free remote healing to a London A&E matron in intensive care with suspected Covid and a genetic illness. She said: ‘The therapy was very effective. My pain and symptoms improved massively.’
I’ve also qualified as a mindfulness teacher; I train people to meditate and strengthen their intuitions. Not everyone can feel cancer in their energy fields, but we can all learn to listen to and trust our inner voice.
One day, I hope healers will be available free on the NHS, for everyone’s benefit, rather than ignored or dismissed. Research and clinical trials are needed. I’d welcome this and I’m happy for scientists to contact me.
I will always feel grateful for the lifesaving warning I received from my own energy field.