I was 16 when I was told I had cancer – and it seemed like the end of life as I knew it.
While my friends were preparing to take their GCSEs, I had to start chemotherapy and radiotherapy. I didn’t know that was just the start – and I’d have to fight cancer two more times over the next 11 years and undergo multiple surgeries, including a double mastectomy, all before my mid-20s.
And it’s likely that two of my cancers were caused by the very treatment I needed when I was just a teenager.
The first time I had cancer I’d knew something was wrong – but at that age, who considers cancer? I certainly didn’t.
I’ve had the same GP since I was little – so when I had persistent back ache and lost around 2st over a couple of months, he knew this wasn’t normal for me and arranged blood tests and a referral to a haematologist.
Hearing the words, stage 4 Hodgkin lymphoma (a cancer that starts in the lymph) felt unreal. My mum, Sara, and dad, Ian, were there with me – but the shock and uncertainty about the future felt overwhelming.
There had never been anything like this in my family before.
Surgery wasn’t an option, so within days I was started on six months of chemotherapy followed by a month of radiotherapy at the Royal Marsden Hospital in London.
Katherine Murrell was just 16 when she was diagnosed with cancer, and while her friends were preparing to take their GCSEs, she had to start chemotherapy and radiotherapy
Three months into her chemotherapy, she suddenly became breathless and was rushed to hospital where she was told she’d developed a pulmonary embolism
Katherine’s goal is to qualify as a paramedic and progress to the Tactical Response Unit which works with the Metropolitan Police
Life became a blur of appointments, while my schoolwork went on the back burner.
We were so grateful to hear that it was treatable – we never asked what the prognosis was, all the doctors would say was, ‘we’re hoping this will work’.
Naturally Mum, Dad and I formed a very close bond in order to wade through it and tried to keep a positive outlook that there would be light at the end of the tunnel.
Having cancer so young was awful, not just for me but for the entire family.
My brother, James was 18 and at university when I was diagnosed, but Mum gave up her job in admin and Dad, an investment manager, came to every appointment and treatment with me – we were like three best friends.
Three months into the chemotherapy, I was at home when I suddenly became breathless.
My parents rushed me to our local hospital where we were told I’d developed a pulmonary embolism [a blood clot in the lungs], probably linked to chemotherapy, which can increase the risk. It was so hard not to panic.
But the ambulance crew who collected me from my local hospital in Tunbridge Wells to take me to the Marsden couldn’t have been kinder.
In November 2021, just as she finished her emergency technician training, she found a lump on the right side of her neck which led to surgery
As so much of her radiation treatment had been in her chest, she started thinking about the future risk of breast cancer
Even though I was desperately unwell, they were funny and thoughtful and at the same time, they looked after my distraught mum and dad so warmly.
It was like being held in a bubble of kindness. I decided then that if I survived, I wanted to join the ambulance service.
I knew I was lucky to be alive, but I’d already lost two good friends to cancer, both 16 like I was at the time and going through chemotherapy.
I was chatting with them one week, the next they were gone.
I had such huge survivor’s guilt and PTSD [post-traumatic stress disorder], which made it difficult to celebrate getting back to normal life.
I sat my GCSEs but I couldn’t face going back to school for A-levels, so I took on a few jobs. Then in August 2021, I joined the London Ambulance Service as an apprentice – when I was 24 – and began my studies towards qualifying as a paramedic.
But then in November that year, just as I finished my emergency technician training, I found a lump on the right side of my neck which over a couple of weeks grew to the size of a 10p coin.
I tried to convince myself that I was just under the weather and it would disappear, but I knew it wasn’t good.
I got the biopsy results showing thyroid cancer the day before my passing out parade.
I had a total thyroidectomy [removal of my thyroid] in December, leaving a huge scar around my neck which I’m still self-conscious about.
Over 20 lymph nodes were removed and of those, over 50 per cent were cancerous.
The hardest thing was being told this was a completely new cancer, probably caused by the month of intensive radiation treatment to my chest and abdomen.
The treatment after my thyroid surgery – radioactive iodine therapy – was gruelling.
She had her operation in September 2023 and when her breast tissue was analysed, more cancer was found in the left breast
After swallowing the capsule, I was in isolation for 48 hours because although the treatment destroys the thyroid cells and any cancer cells, it also makes you highly radioactive. It just felt inhumane.
And if that wasn’t enough, a year later pre-cancerous cells were found in the lymph on my left side of my neck and I had to go through it all again.
As so much of my radiation treatment had been in my chest, I started thinking about the future risk of breast cancer.
My specialist at the Marsden wasn’t keen to do a double mastectomy, as I was so young.
It was a huge decision. But I was determined it was what I wanted.
I had the operation in September 2023 and when my breast tissue was analysed, more cancer – a 7mm lobular carcinoma – was found in the left breast, as well as multiple DCIS (ductal carcinoma in situ – more cancer).
It was shocking, but the relief knowing it was gone, was indescribable. I was discharged in 2023.
I’m 27 now and cancer-free and I’ve found life after the treatment very tough. You go from being so closely supported to being completely on your own.
The light in the dark was meeting my partner Liam, 31, a police officer, in April 2022. He’s always seen me rather than the cancer; he’s not fazed by anything and I’ve been so grateful for that.
I was prescribed tamoxifen, a hormone therapy drug which helps prevent breast cancer returning, but it also plunges you into early menopause.
One of my fallopian tubes was damaged by radiotherapy, so Liam and I were offered IVF and last year we froze 14 eggs and four embryos.
Dealing with my own health concerns over the past 11 years has taught me a lot.
I don’t panic over things I know are not important. And it helps make me more empathetic – I really do understand what people are going through a lot of the time.
I like the idea that I’ve got a lifetime of illness out of the way while I’m young.
I absolutely love my job – for me, dealing with other people’s medical problems is a breath of fresh air – it stops me worrying about my own.
My goal is to qualify as a paramedic and progress to the Tactical Response Unit which works with the Metropolitan Police.
Of course I will forever be under the care of The Royal Marsden, having six-monthly blood tests to check for thyroid cancer and annual follow-ups for the lymphoma and breast cancer – but at long last, I am excited for what the future holds.
Having cancer has made me want to live my own life to the max. I feel so fortunate to still have a chance at life, I cherish every waking moment.
Interview by Caroline Scott
