Combing the hair on her dolly’s head, my daughter Minnie, then 3, looked up at me and beamed.
‘She needs a haircut Mummy,’ she giggled, tugging the comb through a tangled knot.
‘I think you’re right,’ I laughed.
Then, as I glanced across the room at my husband Alex, then 35, he nodded.
It was time.
‘Minnie,’ I began, taking a deep breath. ‘You know how dolly needs a haircut, well, Mummy might have her hair chopped off too. In fact, it might fall out.’
‘Why?’ she frowned.
‘Mummy has a poorly booby,’ I continued.
It was July 2022 and I’d just been diagnosed with breast cancer.
I’d noticed a lump in my left breast years ago.
I’d been told that it was a benign cyst.
Then, when Minnie was…
