In a new Sky Sports News documentary, I open up on my cancer journey in ‘Football, Cancer and Me’.
I was diagnosed with stage three cervical cancer on 31 July 2022, shortly after the birth of my daughter, Mabel. I have now been cancer-free for two-and-a-half years. In the documentary I am joined by four football figures who have also been affected by cancer: David Brooks and Henri Lansbury, who were both diagnosed while playing, Tony Mowbray while manager at Birmingham, Sky Sports reporter Emma Saunders, and St Johnstone owner Adam Webb. The documentary airs on Sky Sports News on Wednesday at 4pm and will be available On Demand.
It hit me like a truck. I did wonder if I was going to die. I’d prepared myself for the worst — I think you have to. I didn’t tell anyone at first because I didn’t want to put it on anyone. I almost felt that if I could have gone through it privately, that would have been better, because I didn’t want people to worry.
If one person sees this and makes a phone call to get checked because of something they feel isn’t right, then it’s worth talking about. So many people are affected by cancer whether directly or indirectly, and having these conversations helps people not feel alone and shows there can be life after cancer.
I knew something wasn’t right, so I went to get checked. I thought I’d be told it was a hangover from giving birth, but that day I was told it looked like cancer. Your life changes in an instant. The weirdest thing was how nothing changes for a few weeks while you wait for further tests and scans to confirm what type of cancer it is and plan treatment. I went to a wine festival in Cheltenham during that period, looking around thinking, ‘I’ve got cancer’ — life was carrying on while mine was about to change.
My treatment plan was five weeks of radiotherapy every weekday, chemotherapy once a week on Wednesdays, then three days of brachytherapy — an intrusive internal radiotherapy. I didn’t tell anyone about the diagnosis until I had the treatment plan because I wanted to be able to tell my mum, ‘this is happening, but this is the plan and this is how we’re going to get through this’. I didn’t want to put that worry on anyone. I knew my parents would feel helpless; as a mum yourself you’d do anything to stop your children suffering, and I knew how hard it would be for them.
Chemotherapy days were the hardest. The nurse said everyone reacts differently and I couldn’t know how my body would respond. Not knowing was difficult: this liquid was going into me and I had no idea how it would make me feel, but it was the thing that might make me better. There were moments I was on the floor crying and thinking I couldn’t do it or go to my treatment.
The last part of my treatment was brutal. I spent three days in hospital, was put to sleep and had 14 metal rods inserted. For those three days I had to lie flat; I couldn’t eat or move. I wasn’t allowed to see Mabel because she would want to cuddle and climb on me, and I didn’t want her to see me like that. It was the first time I’d been apart from her since giving birth and probably the darkest time I faced. Mabel was 18 months old when I was first diagnosed and she became my focus — why I got up every day despite the sickness and exhaustion. Even on my darkest days she was my reason for everything; without knowing it, she was my rock.
When I was first told, my first question was ‘am I going to die?’ That wasn’t about me. I accepted death could be a reality, but what I couldn’t accept was leaving Mabel without a mum.
When treatment stops, it’s hard because support feels reduced. You’re not going in for treatment, yet recovery is difficult: you’re tired and coping with psychological effects. Scans quickly become a regular part of life and there’s the persistent anxiety of the disease potentially returning. Some people think once you have cancer and treatment you’re simply better, but it doesn’t work like that. I probably think about it daily in some form. I woke up with a sore back recently — for my type of cancer a sore back is a symptom of recurrence — and my immediate thought was ‘it’s back’. It’s a hard thing to live with: you wait and hope the treatment has worked.
I still didn’t want to see people for a while because I’d lost a lot of weight and felt I didn’t look healthy, and I didn’t know if it had worked. Being told I was cancer-free felt incredible. You can’t describe the feeling when you hear those words that the treatment has worked — it’s all you’ve hoped for. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with, but I’ve got through it and I’m cancer-free, I’m alive and life is good. It’s such a horrendous thing to have been through that the all-clear doesn’t always feel like a celebration. Even being two-and-a-half years cancer-free, I don’t know if you ever really are; it’s still something I think about, though less as time goes on.
I live with side effects. I’m 40 but it feels like it aged me. I was plunged into early menopause and was told my treatment meant I couldn’t have more children. Psychologically, that’s hard and I don’t think it’s something that ever fully leaves you. I felt so happy for Mabel and would have had thoughts about her starting school and all the milestones I almost didn’t want to miss.
I’ve always been sporty, and that competitive spirit helped me through treatment — resilience I developed playing sport mattered. The wider football family and support from sports media meant everything. The outpouring of messages from people, many I had never met, when I returned to work was overwhelming. Life is about enjoying the little moments, spending time with people you love and doing things that make you happy. It changes you — you can’t go through this and not be changed. It puts everything into perspective. You can get through it. People will help you get through it and there is life after cancer.
If you or someone you know has been affected by cancer, you’re not alone. For support and information, please visit cancerresearchuk.org or macmillan.org.uk. You can also speak to your GP or call the Macmillan Support Line on 0808 808 00 00.
Watch ‘Football, Cancer and Me’ with Jo Wilson on Sky Sports News at 4pm on Wednesday. The documentary will also be available On Demand.