My surgeon’s kind face gave nothing away as I sat down to hear how my operation had gone. He knew, as I did, that what he was about to tell me would shape the rest of my life.
Finally, he smiled. ‘The pathology report is clear,’ he said. ‘All the cancer cells have been killed. It’s the best possible result.’
My partner, Richard, was hugging me before the words had fully sunk in.
The previous eight months had been the hardest of my life, as I’d endured gruelling treatment for an aggressive form of breast cancer.
Before my operation, I’d undergone 14 rounds of
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