As the nation was brought to tears by the death of EastEnders' Lola Pearce-Brown last night, following her struggle with a brain tumour, mum-of-two Abbie Turner was thanking her lucky stars that her latest round of chemotherapy seems to have killed off the cancer plaguing her breast, spine and lymph nodes - for now.
At 29, Abbie is a similar age to Danielle Harold’s Lola, who died after falling unconscious following months of brutal treatment. Abbie, too, has had to cope with six rounds of chemo since February, resulting in 90 percent of her hair falling out, early menopause and the future possibility of having a double mastectomy if genetic tests show she’s at risk of the cancer returning.
“Being in menopause at my age is really tough,” she says from her home in Blackburn the day after ringing the hospital bell to signify her treatment was over. “The hot flushes are horrendous; one minute you can feel the sweat pouring out of your skin, the next you’re freezing cold again. I've got achy bones and joints - every time I get a headache I'm paranoid the cancer is in my brain. I was offered egg-freezing in case I want more children in future, but by the time they caught the cancer in my breast it was already stage 4. I’ve already got two babies who need me - they couldn’t cope without their mum.”
Abbie’s five-year-old daughter Paisley has dealt with her mum’s illness well, innocently playing out medical scenes with her dolls, although her teacher was shocked when the little girl asked if it was her fault Mummy was poorly. “She thought I’d caught cancer from when she was sick over Christmas,” remembers Abbie. “I gave her a huge cuddle and reassured her you couldn’t catch cancer like you can with germs.”
Her ordeal started last August when Abbie noticed a stinging, burning pain in her right armpit. She saw her GP, who dismissed her concerns and passed it off as a gym injury. But the next month when Abbie felt a pea-sized moving lump in her breast, she insisted on being seen again, and this time was referred to the breast clinic for a scan.
“The whole atmosphere of the room changed after the scan,” she recalls. “Suddenly they were talking to themselves, not to me. The doctor said I needed an immediate biopsy as they were worried it was cancerous.”
Investigations shortly before Christmas found it was indeed malignant and had already spread into her lymph nodes and spine. “I was terrified - I thought I was going to faint,” says Abbie. “The one tiny bit of hope I was holding onto was that the doctors said cancer that spreads to the bones is more treatable than if it’s in an organ.”
The mum, who had to give up work but is hoping to find employment again as a hairdresser, then underwent chemo every three weeks that gave her painful mouth ulcers and left her an emotional wreck. The cancer responded well to the treatment, and at the end of May, Abbie’s oncology team at the hospital jokingly told her they never wanted to see her again.
While her tumours have gone, Abbie will need to be on lifelong ‘oral chemo’ in the form of daily medication, and will have three-monthly scans to keep tabs on her health. Her bones are healing well, however, and she’s starting talking therapy to process the traumatic last few months.
As a result of the cancer being ‘oestrogen-positive’, she will need to be careful with her diet. “Soya and soy can trigger an oestrogen response, so I can’t eat any,” she explains. She’ll also have to monitor her meat and egg intake and wants to eat healthier to stay fighting fit in case the cancer returns.
Despite the relentlessness of the last few months, Abbie is taking comfort in the fact she’s still here, able to be a mum to her children. “I’m planning on throwing a ‘pink party’ to celebrate life - and I’m definitely going to eat pink cupcakes,” she laughs. “I want to do something for all the people who supported me.”
She is “so proud” of Paisley and Toby, who have - naturally - grown more clingy to her since the ordeal. “I’ve been spoiling them a bit, and now they keep expecting presents,” she smiles. “They’re both back in my bed, they want to be with me all the time. I’m really proud of them. I’m just so glad they are so young and hopefully won’t remember me being sick.
“In my worst times I was thinking, ‘how can I say goodbye to them?’ I was thinking about recording messages for them to listen to if I died, so they could hear their mum’s voice whenever they felt down. But every time I went to that dark place, I’d have to snap myself out of it. I couldn’t let my body give up - you have to be positive to fight big, scary things.”
Chemo was by far the hardest thing Abbie had ever been through, but she built a TikTok community to share her experiences with - and now says that if one person decides to check out a lump they’re worrying about because of her story, she’ll take that as a huge success. “Don’t let your doctor fob you off,” she advises. “I was only 29 when I got cancer, but it can happen to any of us. It’s always better to be safe than sorry, so familiarise yourself with your body and if something feels weird or different, please get it checked out.”
If you or someone you love has been affected by terminal illness, you can contact Marie Curie’s Information and Support Line on 0800 090 2309.
Marie Curie-trained Support Line Officers can provide practical information on everything from managing day-to-day with a terminal illness, to planning for end of life. It has a dedicated bereavement service where callers will be paired with a volunteer, who can offer a listening ear and support over six sessions, as well as Check-in and Chat, a service that offers regular calls at a time that suits you. You can also find more information on the website: mariecurie.org.uk/help/support
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