I’ve always been someone who encourages others to listen to their bodies, but I never imagined that something as ordinary as a cough could be the start of a cancer diagnosis.
It began with a persistent cough that lingered for two months. I’d tried lots of things to help, but nothing was getting rid of it, and I instinctively felt that something wasn’t right. Then one morning, while getting ready for work, I noticed a lump on my neck. Instinctively, I took a photo and sent it to a private GP, thinking it could be a goitre. That one action led to a referral to an ENT specialist — and within two weeks, after several tests including a biopsy and CT scan — a diagnosis.
While waiting for the test results, I woke one morning sweating so much it felt like I had water thrown over me and my sheets were wet. That led me to do more research, and I had thought lymphoma was a possibility. But I still couldn’t bring myself to believe I could have cancer.
The results came back with a diagnosis of stage 2 Hodgkin lymphoma. The lymphoma was in my chest and neck.
Regardless of my suspicions, it was still a huge shock, and I think I went into denial. In fact, in that consultation room I was just numb; it felt like time had frozen. I can remember hearing the clock on the wall, but the conversation with the doctor was muffled and I couldn’t hear anything – or at least couldn’t take anything in.
Fortunately, my husband was there and was able to ask questions for me. He asked what could have caused it and how long I had. The doctor said that in most cases of lymphoma there was no cause and it was just bad luck. He also said there are a number of treatment options available that would be given with the aim of cure.
Once a plan was set, I was strangely enthusiastic to get things started but felt like I had no emotions at all. My treatment started in November 2024 with four rounds of BEACOPP. ABVD and radiotherapy had been discussed, but because of where the tumour was, and because I had bulky disease, the more aggressive chemotherapy was considered the best option for me.
On the first day of chemotherapy, I had a PICC line fitted, which felt overwhelming. How could everything change so quickly? Before today, I was 26, balancing work and enjoying life. Suddenly my days will be filled with hospital visits, scans, and back-to-back appointments. It was terrifying. Time seemed to slow down as my world shifted completely.
I tried to be brave and enthusiastic but often felt tired and tearful. I was thinking a lot about loved ones back home who had died of cancer, including my high school friend who we’d lost not long before. I felt my body had betrayed me by not showing clearer signs that something was wrong.
I lost my hair and looked completely different and struggled with other side effects like swelling in my face. I was studying as well as working before the time of diagnosis and had to give up my course temporarily. I was struggling with chemo brain and could not keep any information in at all.
I was also struggling with peripheral neuropathy which made everything sensitive to the touch. I had discolouration in my hands and fingernails and my toe nails went black.
Living in London, neither my husband nor I have a car, so we travelled to hospital on the tube. But I was neutropenic and was repeatedly getting infections so needed to take a cab instead. I was given GCSF to help stimulate the production of white blood cells to fight infections, but this caused me a lot of bone pain and seemed to change my mood. I also was anaemic so needed a blood transfusion after the second round of chemotherapy.
My body was exhausted, and I felt so fatigued that I simply didn’t want to talk. Trying to have a conversation was too much.
Being far from home — having moved to the UK just two years earlier from the Caribbean — made things even more challenging. But I was never alone. My husband was by my side every step of the way. And although I took 10 months off work, my coworkers showed incredible kindness. And even from afar, my family wrapped me in love and encouragement. But most of all, I leaned on God — He became my anchor and my strength when I felt like I had none.
I was offered counselling as I started chemotherapy which has helped, and I have carried that on. It has given me the strength to say out loud what I feel, which has been empowering. I also feel less fearful of cancer. Before my diagnosis, it was one of the things that scared me most, but now I feel differently about it. My perspective on work and money has also changed and if I want to do something, I don’t put it off.
Fast forward to today. I’ve completed chemotherapy. There are still some health hurdles to navigate, but I’ve been told I’m in remission. People congratulated me for getting through the treatment, but I did not see it like that.
This journey changed me. It tested me. But it also reminded me of the strength within me — and the power of faith, love, and listening to your body.