Koo's battle against cancer

I have spent a lot of time recently educating myself about my cancer - and it's something I still do today. I never thought that it would happen to me but, in August 2002, aged 46, I was diagnosed with stage-two breast cancer. I underwent a radical mastectomy - my right breast and 15 lymph nodes were removed - and I also had chemotherapy treatment which meant I lost my hair.

But just as important as what I've been through are the after-effects of cancer. It is as if the learning process, both for me and my daughter, never ends.

You have two options when you've been diagnosed - you can bury your head in the sand and rely on other people to help you regain your health, or you can educate yourself to learn what your options are.

I chose the latter. There was no use in hiding from it. I asked loads of questions, read books, checked the internet and spoke to friends. One in nine women gets breast cancer, so it's not as if you can't find someone to talk to about it with their own personal experience. The more you talk about it, the more information you get. Then you're in a better position to make choices.

There's no history of breast cancer in my family. I had a very healthy lifestyle and had largely been a vegetarian and eaten organic, macrobiotic foods for years. I breast-fed my daughter, Tatiana, now six, for two years, which is supposed to help protect you. I was what's considered very low risk, yet I still developed cancer.

I believe that a major causative factor of it was a prolonged state of stress in my personal life, which I had no ability to alter. That crippling feeling that life has got the better of you, if only temporarily, combined with other things that put a stress on the body - food and water that aren't as toxin-free as they should be, lack of fresh air and lack of sleep when your mind's worried (like most mothers, I sleep with half an ear open). They all combined to leave me weakened.

Because the particular type I was diagnosed with - lobular cancer - notoriously shoots across to the other breast, I had regular mammograms. A year later, tests showed I had "micro-calcification" in the other breast. These are tiny little calcium deposits, not cancer, but they're still an abnormality. You can get rid of them with a change of diet or with homeopathic remedies, but the advice I had was to have a biopsy to determine whether they were precancerous or even cancerous. Then, if they were, I should have a second operation to remove the breast.

But I didn't see the point in having a biopsy. I had been incorrectly diagnosed after a biopsy before, which culminated in me having my first breast removed, so that didn't fill me with confidence. And what you primarily want when you're recovering from any illness as serious as cancer is peace of mind.

It didn't take me long to make the decision to have a second mastectomy immediately. If you don't have any breast tissue, your likelihood of developing breast cancer is 0.02 per cent. And from my personal point of view, to have no bosom on one side and a deformed bosom on the other wasn't appealing. It's much better to have no bosoms at all.

I'm sure I've done the safest possible thing for me. I'm a single mother of a young daughter and I didn't want to put my life at risk.

I live in London but went back home to America for my surgery last December-and stayed there with my family for Christmas while I recovered. When something's wrong with you, the first place you want to go is home, and America has a much higher rate of cancer recovery than the UK. Figures show the five-year survival rate after breast cancer treatment in the US is 89 per cent compared with 79 per cent in Europe.

I told Tatiana that Mommy was going to lose her bosom and her hair because she was going to notice those things. I'm not able to lift her up and carry her like I used to any more, so I explained the effects of the cancer, insofar as they related to her. After all, I didn't want to scare her.

Of course it's an enormous relief to know that I'm cancer-free, but I'm also aware the chemotherapy I had in 2002 was highly toxic and has compromised my immune system. Just being disease-free doesn't mean you're healthy, which is something I now think about every day.

I believe that nutrition is vital in preventing illness as well as recovering from it. I've worked with a nutritionist and at this point I'm not only eating to maintain health, I'm eating to regain health. In any cancer-prevention programme the nutritional advice is to eat more whole foods, whole grain and organic. The rule of thumb is "the closer to nature, the better it is for you". I rarely drink tea, coffee or alcohol.

I've cut out dairy and avoid processed foods and those that have a reputation for being artificially farmed, which is something I've more or less done all my life, but I've increased my awareness in the past two years.

If I go out to lunch, for instance, and there's nothing I can eat on the menu, I'll say: "Well, it says here you have avocado prawn, could I please have just the avocado and a lemon?" I have the occasional lapse, especially with a child because you have Easter or Christmas or birthdays, but I do it with full awareness.

I'm also very concerned with Tatiana's health and am trying to educate her. She'll read the labels closely now and go for organic whenever she can. Plus, unlike many children her age, she's aware of the hazards of too much salt and processed food.

The most important thing when you're being treated for and recovering from cancer is to have a positive mental attitude. Without it, life is going to be such an uphill struggle. People are naturally afraid when they learn they have cancer, because they're terrified they're going to die. But that's silly because you're going to die anyway. Realising that makes every moment in life precious.

I've found that using yoga or my Buddhist relaxation techniques has helped me to relax and regain my health.

Anything that makes you happy boosts your immune system, whether it's comedy videos, books or just being with good friends. I also used lymphatic massage to help me recover after my surgery. If you've had lymph glands removed you can suffer a condition called lymphoedema, where the area swells up, so this type of massage really helps.

And I certainly don't allow my appearance to depress me. I've never been overly concerned with the impact my mastectomies would have on my body shape. I'm more concerned with the truth and health. I've never been a model, although people assume that, so my body has never really affected my career. Plus, I've never had enormous bosoms, so that's never been part of my persona.

Throughout the 25 years that I have had a public image, I've gone through some changes, but I've never had any surgery other than my mastectomies. I've learned to wear things that suit now, nothing with darts or anything decollete, and I don't wear clothes that announce the bosom. But that doesn't mean I can't dress in a feminine way.

Wearing prostheses doesn't appeal to me either. I think that would make it psychologically harder in a way. I have to be honest about my shape. I've asked a few questions about reconstructive surgery, but I'm not considering it at the moment. You have to remain free of the disease for a particular period of time before you can be considered cancer-free, so I'll get through that first.

Overall, my experience with cancer has encouraged me to inform and help others, so I'm in the process of setting up a charity. The Haven Trust has very kindly come to my rescue twice now - once when I stumbled through its doors in need of tender loving care and again now, when I need guidance and help in starting up my charity and enabling the information to get out to other women.