At 42 years old, I went to bed feeling perfectly healthy.

The next morning, my husband told me I needed to see a doctor. “What on earth for?” I asked, feeling completely fine. He explained that he had felt a lump in my right breast and thought I should have it checked. I still couldn’t feel anything myself.

The Dr did find a lump in my right breast. Initially, I was told I would need a lumpectomy. Within two days, however, after further investigations, I was told I needed a double mastectomy.

Naturally, the diagnosis brought all the emotions that come to most women after hearing the words “you have breast cancer.”

I went on to have the double mastectomy, followed by reconstruction surgery. Throughout that journey, I was incredibly fortunate to have my faith, a wonderful husband, two beautiful children—a son aged 14 and a daughter aged 12 at the time—and a wonderful community of friends who carried me through some very difficult days.

What I didn’t realise at the time was that my own breast cancer journey would lead me in a completely unexpected direction.

At the time, I was working in my own physiotherapy practice, treating the usual conditions—neck and back pain, sports injuries, and general rehabilitation.

After experiencing breast cancer myself ,though,  I began meeting many other women who had undergone breast cancer surgery. Although they had completed their treatment, many were still living with significant pain and restricted shoulder movement on the side of their surgery.

I discovered that many of these women were suffering from Axillary Web Syndrome (AWS), commonly known as cording—a condition that causes tight, rope-like bands under the arm, leading to pain and restricted movement. For many women, it becomes a constant reminder that they have had cancer.

What surprised me most was discovering how common this condition was—and that it is completely treatable.

Because symptoms often develop weeks after patients have been discharged as “cancer free,” many women assume this is simply something they must live with and never seek further help.

This discovery set me on a path that has shaped the last 18 years of my career, and continues to be my area of passion and research.

Helping women understand that there is a solution to their pain and loss of movement has been incredibly rewarding. Watching them regain their movement, confidence, and quality of life—and move forward physically, mentally, and emotionally—has been one of the greatest privileges of my life.

What was once one of the most difficult chapters of my life, in multiple areas, became one of the most meaningful—and for that, I am deeply grateful.