‘i don’t have a fear of dying – i have a fear of leaving mabel’

TV presenter Jo Wilson opens up about life after her cervical cancer diagnosis, staying positive for her daughter and plans for the future

When TV presenter Jo Wilson recently broke the news that she has been diagnosed with stage three cervical cancer, she wasn’t prepared for the outpouring of support that filled her social media platforms.

“I was quite anxious being so open about it, it was a huge deal for me,” admits the Sky Sports star. “But all the messages from people saying they’d booked in for overdue smear tests also lifted my spirits.

“Male friends passing on the link to my story and being real allies also meant so much and hearing from others currently undergoing treatment all made me feel less alone.”

Jo – who lives in the Cotswolds with her partner of six years, Dan, 42, and their two-year-old daughter Mabel – reveals, “The final week of treatment involved a three-day hospital stay and some internal radiotherapy, which took its toll.

“But I’m happy it’s all over; now it feels like a waiting game until a scan in three months.”

She said her focus is now on ”recovering and staying as

positive as possible” until she gets the scan results.

Here, we exclusively speak to Jo, who always prided herself on being fit and healthy, as her six-week cancer treatment comes to an end...

Hi Jo. When did your symptoms appear?

During pregnancy, I had some bleeding, and a slight pain, I couldn’t lie on my right side, but I put it down to her positioning. After Mabel arrived [in September 2020], my periods were irregular, close together and heavy. I thought that was normal for a new mum, along with the tiredness. I started googling prolapses, wondering if I needed a tweak down there. In my mind, it was 100% just some hangover from birth. I was worried about having a smear after Mabel’s traumatic birth. I ended up with forceps and we both caught sepsis. I just didn’t want to be prodded.

Were you up to date with smear tests?

Previously, yes. Halfway through pregnancy my smear [test] was due. But you can’t have them while expecting. I want to warn other women planning families to put a smear test on their checklist. After a baby, you’re recovering from exhaustion. Self care is non-existent!

What happened next?

I finally booked a private smear test in June, 19 months after I

welcomed Mabel. The gynaecologist said, “This doesn’t feel normal to me. I think there’s a possibility it could be cancer.” I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. I wasn’t expecting that. I’ve always been sporty, eaten well and taken care of my health. But it’s a disease that’s out of your control. I started crying. “Am I going to die and leave Mabel without a mum?” That was my first thought – when you hear “cancer” that’s what you think. Just a week earlier I’d bought Dame

“My first thought was ‘am I going to die?’”

Deborah James’ Rebellious Hope T-shirt. And here I was being diagnosed myself. It felt surreal.

How did you cope?

You’re desperately hoping there’s a chance it might not be. I was booked in for further investigations and it was later confirmed that unfortunately it had spread to my lymph nodes, which bumped it up to stage three. The consultant explained I was quite lucky it had only gone to two of mine. Stage four is when it gets very tricky in terms of being able to cure it.

Were there dark moments?

I said to the doctor, “Am I going to die?” “You’re not going to die,” he reassured me. “It’s very treatable, and it’s very curable.” I try to hold onto that, but there are no guarantees. The percentages are still a bit ropey. There’s something like a 70% success rate for this treatment. So I’ll take that. But you do still think there’s a 30% chance it won’t work. I try to believe everything else is in my favour, my age and I am fit. I must try to hang on to the positives. A friend sent a card saying, “One day at a time,” which sits on my windowsill to remind me.

Does Mabel know you’re poorly?

Every time I looked at Mabel I’d be in absolute pieces. I don’t have a fear of dying, more a fear of leaving her

“I’m on a journey that’ll affect my whole life”

and not seeing her grow up. Mabel is very cuddly at the moment. She flies across the kitchen into my arms, chattering away. She’s so funny and she’s an amazing distraction. You need motivation to get through this and she will get me through. She keeps me positive. For her, I have to be there and carry on. I showed her these photoshoot pictures. She’s not aware what it was all about, but she just kept pointing at them saying “mamma” and “baby”.

How are you feeling now treatment has ended?

I’m totally wiped out, to be honest. The final week of treatment involved a three-day hospital stay and some internal radiotherapy which has definitely taken its toll. I can’t explain how happy I am that it’s all over – this point felt really far away when I first started my treatment. It’s a little scary too as going for treatment every day felt like something proactive was happening in terms of treating the disease, whereas now it just feels like a bit of a waiting game until a scan in three months. I just need to concentrate on recovering and building up my strength and staying as positive as possible.

Do you and Dan discuss any plans for the future?

We are not planning for me not to be here in any way. I’m very much at the start of a journey that will affect my whole life and I’m still processing it. There will be challenges – the post-treatment recovery and waiting for more scans. Also, side-effects like being plunged into menopause aged 38 and being infertile. That’s a lot to deal with, but I will, as and when I have to. This is the biggest challenge of my life so far but I’m not about to shy away from it.

What’s next?

Hopefully my energy levels will improve and we are hoping to go away in October for a couple of weeks to recharge the batteries. I will need to keep myself distracted, too. There have been moments of real anxiety around the next scan, but hopefully I can also get back to work in the next couple of months. Mum and Dad are visiting soon and I’m hoping to go to dinner with my cousins to celebrate the end of treatment. It’s good to have nice things to look forward to.