Her Voice Her Strength

Dear Kind Reader,

I hope you are well and that you’ve enjoyed my last blog. Before diving into today’s letter, here’s a brief recap of where we left off:

• I shared the emotional impact of the diagnosis of Ductal Carcinoma In Situ (DCIS) breast cancer and the frustration of unanswered questions during my initial appointment.
• I also mentioned the launch of my YouTube channel, Her Voice, Her Strength, as another way to document my journey. Here’s the link; https://youtube.com/@hervoiceherstrength

• Unsatisfied with my first consultation, I requested a second biopsy, where a compassionate sonographer gave me a glimmer of hope.
• I recounted a deeply emotional walk with my dog, Tokyo, filled with raw feelings and prayer.

Now, let’s move on to today’s letter and the next chapter of my journey.

The Weight of Words

Before I get into my next appointment, let me share what life was like at that time and the things people said to me.

I remember telling an uncle of mine, “I can’t believe God is allowing me to have cancer,” and his response was, “Maybe you offended the Holy Spirit.” … What?! That comment left me so hurt that I withdrew from him completely.

Skipping ahead briefly to December 2022 (before returning to November 2022), I went through another deep low mood. To be honest, my mood was always up and down. I forced myself to attend birthdays and social gatherings, but inside, I was grieving.

I’ll never forget confiding in someone I thought who was a friend, telling them how angry and hurt I was that God had allowed this to happen to me. Their response? “If you were Job from the Bible, you wouldn’t have been able to handle what he went through—he suffered worse.”

I was furious !!! 😡 We got into an argument. Imagine already being beaten down, only to be beaten again with words—using the Bible to minimise my pain was so shocking and uncalled for. The lack of empathy during my most vulnerable time was flabbergasting, disappointing and disgraceful. Instead of kindness, I was met with “Be strong,” as if that erased my reality.

Looking back, I can’t believe I tolerated such insensitivity. It was heartbreaking. I always tried to put myself in others’ shoes, yet I found that people rarely did the same for me. I deeply regretted sharing this diagnosis with so many people. Normally, I keep my struggles private, but this was such a shock—I didn’t know how to contain it. Lesson learned.

During this time, I also requested my full medical records from the NHS hospital I was attending at the time, including all scans since June 2022 and requested the scans to put on CD’s so to have as a hardcopy. I remember bumping into my sister-in-law. I greeted her, then suddenly broke down in tears, telling her “They said I have breast cancer.” Even writing this now, I feel the same wave of emotion, as if I’m reliving it all over again.

To this day, people still say inconsiderate things, and while I try to overlook them, the words still cut deep.

Clinging to Faith & Searching for Healing

Somewhere in the midst of all this, I joined a prayer platform called NSPPD. It wasn’t the type of praying I was used to—sometimes it strengthened me, sometimes I just cried through it. When they did communion, my “bread and wine” was literally a tiny piece of carrot and a sip of water.

I was desperate for a miracle. So desperate that when the pastor said, “Seal your prayer with a seed,” meaning a financial offering, I gave money in the hopes that my cancer would disappear. Looking back, I know that was the wrong mindset as I have been in a situation like this before where I was desperate and I heeded to the seed sealing ethos which I know is not biblical, but at the time, I was grasping at anything that might save me from cancer and grieve.

Little by little, this platform built my faith, even if just slightly. I printed out people’s testimonies, I wrote out prayer requests, I pinned an image with written words ‘Cancer Free’ and plastered them onto my mood board, hoping one day I’d have my own miracle.

At the same time, I started researching natural remedies for cancer— I looked up herbs, soursop fruit, soursop leaves. I even paid a hefty price for a man to export soursop to me in the middle of winter, along with other seeded exotic fruits.

Someone told me about a Jamaican herbalist in Brixton, under the bridge near Sports Direct. I went there and asked, “What do I take to get rid of breast cancer?” He asked what stage I was at, and I told him I was in the early stages. He then gave me a list:

• Soursop leaf
• Jackfruit leaf
• John Charles
• Broom weed
• Black sage
• Moringa
• Guinea weed

He also recommended pineapple, though I wasn’t a fan. I was already boiling pineapple with its skin and drinking it like a warm tea.

The Third Appointment – More Devastating News

Now, back to November 2022—the appointment where I received the results of my second biopsy. I went in with a male pastor for support. Ironically, I didn’t see the mean female consultant from last time. Instead, I met with a male consultant, who I later found out was the head breast consultant at this NHS hospital.

In short, he told me the DCIS breast cancer was still there and that I would need to have a mastectomy—they wanted to remove my entire left breast.

I immediately said NO. I thought to myself and told him, I’d rather die than let you do that to me.

The consultant explained that the mastectomy was necessary to save my life. Save my life? Because of your team’s negligence? That’s crazy. I said that in my mind, but out loud, I insisted, “There must be another option.”

He examined my breast and stomach, with a female chaperone present. When we returned to the consultation room, he told me, “Your breasts are too small and dense, so a mastectomy is the only option.” He even suggested involving a plastic surgeon.

At this point, I zoned out. I stopped listening.

I told him, “No, I’m not doing this.” He told me to think about it and come back in December.

Then, the male pastor who came with me turned to me and said, “Andréa, it’s just a breast.”

…Excuse me, what?!

In my mind, heart, and soul, I was screaming. I stayed silent, but I thought:

Imagine telling a man, “It’s just your testicles.”

Or telling someone, “It’s just a leg, it’s just an arm.”

How could he say that?

The consultant suggested I speak to a psychologist, but I ignored that. I had attended two psychology sessions before and barely spoke. I had no trust left for this hospital.

I left that appointment, numb. I didn’t cry, but I felt the tears inside.

I left the pastor by his car—he said some “God stuff,” but I wasn’t listening. I just said okay and walked home alone again.

That night, I walked my dog in silence. I called someone (who asked to remain anonymous) and asked if they could take my dog permanently. In my mind, I had decided I was going to let this thing kill me. I wasn’t going to lose my breast.

I told a friend the same thing, that I’m not going to do anything I’m just going to sit and live like this.

Another person told me, “It’s just a breast, it doesn’t matter.”

But it does matter. If I had been born with one breast, then maybe it wouldn’t. But that wasn’t the case.

I was devastated.

The next day, I told my manager I couldn’t work. But after three days, I logged back in. When I told her what the consultant said, she reminded me about my job’s private healthcare benefits—I had missed the sign-up window in September, but I had one more last chance in November.

I wasn’t even thinking about getting a second opinion, but she checked, and the benefits covered pre-existing conditions.

So, I signed up.

Subsequently December was fast approaching.

I’m going to pause here and share how December went in another letter.

Questions for You, Kind Reader:

1. How would you have reacted to what people said to me?
2. How would you feel if someone told you, “It’s just a breast” (or any other body part)?
3. Would you have kept going out to celebrate others while suppressing your own pain?
4. Would you still speak to these friends or my uncle?
5. What would you have said to the pastor?

Thank you for reading.

Don’t forget to subscribe, like, and share this post. Also, check out my YouTube channel: Her Voice, Her Strength; https://youtube.com/@hervoiceherstrength

Warm wishes,

Andréa Xxx 💕