Mimi's Story
Enabling meaningful living
Before my diagnosis, I was training as a reflexologist, embracing a more intentional way of living and building a lifestyle rooted in holistic wellbeing. At 44, living in Colindale, I felt like I was finally stepping into a new chapter. But in May 2025, that path was abruptly interrupted when doctors delivered the devastating news that I had metastatic breast cancer.
I was riddled with unbearable pain and struggling to breathe, and it was during a hospital admission that I was encouraged to reach out to the community team at North London Hospice. That introduction would go on to reshape my experience of care in ways that were both practical and deeply personal.
I remember the nurse coming to see me at home and I just broke down.
It wasn’t planned; it just happened. But she didn’t interrupt me or try to make it better straight away. She just sat and listened. That meant so much, because in that moment I didn’t need solutions – I just needed someone to hear me. It made me feel safe, like I wasn’t going through it on my own.
From that point on, it was often the small, practical interventions that had the greatest impact on my daily life.
It sounds like such a simple thing, but the special comfort chair the team arranged for me changed everything. Before, even sitting down was uncomfortable and I was always shifting, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt. Then suddenly I had somewhere I could properly rest and a way to lift myself back out of it. That’s something you really appreciate when you’ve been without it.
As my hip pain worsened, being given a walker became another turning point.
By providing me with this equipment and helping me find the strength to use it, I was gifted back the independence that had so cruelly been taken from me. I could walk to the local café with a friend. So simple, but so meaningful. I didn’t feel as stuck. It helped me hold on to a bit of the old me.
Alongside this, I’ve received complementary therapies, nursing and doctor-led support at home, and help from a social worker – not just for me, but for my mum too, who has become my carer since I was forced to move back home.
Everyone has been full of patience and reassurance, which has been a huge comfort. I know some people find the idea of hospice care frightening, but the way I see it, facing a situation like this alone is so much scarier.
I continue to receive treatment, and some days are harder than others, but I’m keen to acknowledge that I don’t feel alone.
My family and friends have been incredibly kind and supportive, and I’m learning to ask for help and allow people to look after me. My faith offers me comfort, and I draw on both my Buddhist and Catholic backgrounds to help me feel held and seen. But that quiet, consistent care from the community team has made a profound difference too.
I am less scared, less lonely and less overwhelmed because of North London Hospice. This really is humanity at its finest, and I am so grateful to have the hospice in my corner.
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