We’ve had a great response to our September focus on gynaecological cancers, and we are honoured to share a blog with you, written by Sarah in which she talks about her ovarian cancer journey.
From Near Death to Miracles: My Battle with Cancer and the Secret That Saved Me
In April 2021, life was finally beginning to look up. After the rollercoaster of lockdowns and restrictions, hope was in the air. My son and his American fiancée were expecting a baby, and their wedding in San Diego was only weeks away. I was set to be there, celebrating not only their union but the chance to take a much-needed break after the turmoil of the past year. I’d lost my mum unexpectedly, and running a beauty business during the pandemic had taken a toll. A beach holiday in Mexico before the wedding felt like the perfect escape.
However, life had other plans for me.
A week into our vacation in Mexico, I woke in the middle of the night with severe pain in my abdomen and kidneys. I brushed it off, blaming too many cocktails, and focused on rehydrating. But the symptoms lingered—abdominal pain, bloating, and a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. By Sunday night, just days before the wedding, I was feeling worse. A migraine hit, and I could barely move.
I called the hotel doctor, who immediately insisted I go to the hospital. There, I underwent CT scans and blood tests, only to hear words that would shake anyone to their core: “You have large tumours on both ovaries.”
The next few days were a whirlwind. Though the tumours looked suspicious, my blood tests showed no cancer markers. Despite this, the doctors in Mexico wanted to keep me for observation and potentially operate. My insurance company, however, decided I should be flown back to the UK for treatment.
I was repatriated back home in the worst physical condition of my life, missing my son’s wedding. Watching the ceremony live-streamed from my home was bittersweet—I was proud, yet heartbroken to miss such an important moment.
Upon returning to the UK, I sought immediate medical attention. More CT scans confirmed the Mexican doctors’ suspicions, and I was soon admitted for surgery to remove my ovaries. When I woke from the operation, my surgeon confirmed my fears: I had ovarian cancer, but thankfully, it appeared to be contained.
The following months were a mix of relief, fear, and determination. I was scheduled to undergo chemotherapy, and though the prospect terrified me, I knew it was necessary to ensure any remaining cancer cells were eliminated. As my hair began to fall out, I took the bold step of shaving it off, going live on Facebook for a fundraising event. What began as a personal challenge turned into a community movement, and we raised £10,000 for charity.
That fundraising bug bit hard. From waxing my partner’s nose and ears to climbing Snowdon, each effort brought in more funds for charity, and I had the fundraising bug. Even after gruelling chemotherapy sessions, I pushed through, motivated by the desire to give back and do something positive during such a dark time.
But cancer has a way of altering more than just your body—it shifts your entire perspective on life.
I began to question everything: Who was I? What did I want from life? As a beauty therapist running my own salon, the stress of business had always been a part of my existence. Yet the emotional strain of cancer, combined with the realisation that life is unpredictable, led me to start studying life coaching and emotional behavioural psychology.
It became clear that understanding myself, my beliefs, and what held me back was critical in helping me face the battles ahead. I wasn’t content with just surviving; I wanted to thrive.
In the midst of my treatment, I learned I carried the BRCA1 gene mutation. This mutation significantly increases the risk of both breast and ovarian cancer, and it runs in families. My father had prostate cancer, my sister had passed away from breast cancer at the age of 42, and now I was facing ovarian cancer. I immediately knew what this meant for my family.
My son, daughter, and two nieces were all tested. Devastatingly, everyone but my son carried the gene. This discovery led to incredibly difficult decisions. My daughter and nieces, all under 35, opted for preventive double mastectomies to reduce their risk of breast cancer. It was a heart-wrenching journey, but one they bravely faced head-on.
As my chemotherapy came to an end in October 2021, I was told I was in the clear. I was overjoyed, not only for myself but for my family. The timing couldn’t have been better, as just weeks later, my granddaughter was born. She represented new life—a symbol of hope and the future I was determined to live for.
But as with any cancer survivor, the fear of recurrence is always present. By February 2023, I noticed some familiar symptoms—abdominal discomfort and changes in my bowel movements. Despite the reassurances, I knew in my heart that the cancer was back. A CT scan confirmed my worst fears: I had a 7 cm mass in my pelvis, and cancer had spread to my peritoneum.
This time, I was told my cancer was incurable, but there might be periods of remission. Once again, I faced chemotherapy and the emotional trauma of battling this relentless disease. It was the hardest challenge of my life, but something shifted inside me. I knew I needed to focus not just on the medical treatments but on my entire internal environment—my diet, my mindset, my stress levels.
I began a journey of healing through meditation, nutrition, and lifestyle changes. I adopted an anti-inflammatory, low-carb, no-sugar diet, incorporated high doses of cannabis oil, and sold my business to remove unnecessary stress. I embraced the power of the mind-body connection, believing fully in the potential for healing from within.
After four rounds of chemotherapy, the results were nothing short of miraculous. The tumours had shrunk significantly, and my surgeon was able to remove the remaining cancer. My medical team was astonished—it wasn’t the result they had expected.
Now, in 2024, as I reflect on my journey, I am filled with gratitude. I’ve come through two cancer diagnoses, witnessed my daughter get married, and travelled with my husband in a motorhome—a dream we had put off for far too long. I’ve qualified as a meditation and breathwork facilitator and completed my life coaching qualification. I am now coaching others through their own cancer journeys.
Life isn’t without its challenges, but I’m here, and I’m living every moment fully. I’m proud of what I’ve overcome, and I’m passionate about helping others find the strength to do the same.
If you are interested in more about my coaching and meditation practice, you can follow me on Instagram @sarahhurst_risingabovecancer. You can also find me on Facebook.
Thank you so much for sharing your story with us Sarah. It really is important to live in the moment and make the most of every day. Xx
