What the stranger said next saved Kerry’s life…
Walking into the dining room of the care home I worked in, I made a beeline for the kettle.
I was about to make a cuppa for an elderly resident, but her daughter was hot on my heels.
‘I don’t mean to be cheeky but are you alright?’ she asked, gently.
‘What do you mean?’ I replied.
‘When you were helping my mum, I noticed you had a really big lump on your neck,’ she said.
She told me her relative had had a similar lump and been diagnosed with thyroid cancer.
‘I don’t mean to scare you, but you should get it checked out,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ I replied.
My mum Carol and her two sisters had all been diagnosed with cancer at around my age – almost 30 - too.
Could history be repeating itself? I fretted.
After booking a doctor’s appointment, I developed strange symptoms.
‘It’s as if my brain needs a couple of seconds to tell me to swallow,’ I told the doctor.
I was referred for a biopsy, which I had two weeks later.
A busy working mum to Aiden, 11, and Harley, six, that helped keep me distracted while I waited for the results.
But it seemed to take forever.
Eventually, three months later, I walked nervously into hospital.
There, I received the news I’d been dreading.
I had thyroid cancer.
‘We’ve found a 6cm lump, and you’ll need surgery and radiotherapy,’ the doctor said.
Deep down, I’d already known, but hearing the ‘C’ word aloud felt shocking and strange.
Afterwards, dazed, I walked to the hospital café.
I sat quietly, trying to breathe, and broke down in tears.
All I could think was that I was going to die and leave my kids without a mum.
Calling my partner Steven, I could barely get the words out between sobs.
‘Everything will be fine,’ he soothed.
He was so strong and protective.
Though I tried to shield the children, Aiden guessed something was wrong.
I realised I’d have to tell them, which was hard.
‘Don’t panic love, but I have cancer,’ I said, explaining I’d have surgery to remove it.
Meanwhile, I told my daughter, just six, that I was poorly, but I was going into hospital to make me better.
For a while, anytime I was feeling unwell, Aiden would worry I was going to die.
It was heartbreaking.
Finally, five months later, I was taken into theatre for surgery to remove half of my thyroid gland.
I was terrified I wouldn’t wake up.
Only, five hours later, the surgeon declared it had been a success.
I can move on now, I thought.
But at my check-up two weeks later, there was bad news.
‘We think the cancer could have spread to the other half of the thyroid,’ he said.
I needed more surgery.
And when he said I’d need medication for the rest of my life, I crumbled.
I felt broken and betrayed by my own body. I wasn’t ready to admit this was how life would always be.
The thyroid gland had so many vital functions, such as producing hormones that controlled bodily functions like heart rate and body temperature.
Without it, I’d need lifelong hormone replacement therapy.
After successful surgery, I had to stay in a room for a week to have radiation treatment to mop up any tiny cancer cells that may have been missed.
It went well, but it took a toll on me - not just physically, but mentally.
My family and medical staff were so supportive.
Now, I’m grateful to be here and that I get to experience the simple things, such as my son and daughter starting new years at school.
And I’ll forever be thankful to that stranger for speaking up.
By Kerry Morrow, 32, Glasgow, Scotland