'I'd never want to go through cancer again, but I've met the love of my life': Three cancer survivors tell their astonishing - and heart-warming - stories

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Being told you have cancer can be one of the most frightening things you can ever hear. But today more people than ever are surviving the disease and going on to lead long, full and happy lives. In fact, cancer survival has improved over the last 40 years and has doubled from 1 in 4 to 2 in 4 people surviving their cancer for at least 10 years in the UK. And according to figures recently released by Cancer Research UK, death rates are set to drop by 15 per cent in the UK by 2035 thanks to huge strides in the detection, diagnosis and treatment of the disease. 

Here, we talk to three inspirational survivors about how they beat the disease:

I WAS DIAGNOSED THREE WEEKS BEFORE MY WEDDING

Karen Cocks, 37, lives in Hall Green, Birmingham, with her husband Ian, a 39-year-old warehouseman, and daughter Olivia, six. She was diagnosed with Ewing's sarcoma – a rare type of bone cancer – in 2011. 

She says: Standing at the altar, pledging to love my bridegroom 'in sickness and in health', I felt a lump in my throat as we exchanged a poignant glance. To other people they were just words, but to us they meant everything: three weeks before, I'd been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer and we had no idea what the outcome would be. 

Until then, I'd been on top of the world. I was about to marry the man I'd loved for seven years and we had a beautiful baby girl called Olivia we both doted on. But then, in June 2011, came the diagnosis. That January I'd felt a small pea-sized lump above my right breast. 

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Karen and Ian on their wedding day, left, and Karen in hospital having treatment, right

My doctor thought it was a cyst but referred me to a breast clinic. The next three months were spent having different tests at different hospitals – I wasn't worried, even though the lump was growing, because nothing anyone said gave me cause for concern.

So when a consultant eventually sat me down with my mother and said 'it's cancer', it felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. 

'It can't be,' I told him, 'I'm getting married in three weeks.' Then mum and I burst into tears. He told me it was a type of cancer called Ewing's sarcoma, which I'd never heard of. It is very rare with around 90 cases in the UK every year.  It is most common in children - my consultant had never seen it in a woman my age before. 

When we left I had to phone Ian to tell him the news and hear his heartbreak over the phone - he fell to pieces. Then I got home to see eight-month-old Olivia sitting in her high chair eating dinner like normal and wondered if I'd get to see her grow up. 

Not knowing chilled me to the bone. After he'd got over the shock, Ian was amazing. We decided we'd tell my two bridesmaids but not the other guests – it was meant to be the best day of my life and I didn't want people looking at me with sympathy. 

In May Karen, from Hall Green, Birmingham, will have been in remission for five years

It was a wonderful day – really happy – although I did find asking my hairdresser to arrange my hair so it covered the tumour and seeing the look of sadness on my bridesmaids' faces as Ian and I had our first dance upsetting. 

A few weeks later, I was having chemo. Nothing could have prepared me for how much it knocked me. I had six sessions and each consisted of a five-day stay in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham, going home for a few days before being readmitted with an infection caused by the drugs' effect on my immune system. Out of every three-week period, I felt ok for just five days. 

Once I'd had surgery to remove the tumour just before Christmas 2011, I had six more sessions of gruelling chemo. That was my lowest moment – knowing I had to go through that again. The worst part of therapy was missing a year of seeing my little girl grow up. We've decided not to have any more babies after my experience so Olivia is my only child. 

I love her to pieces and knowing I had to live for her helped get me through. Incredibly, despite all the time I spent in hospital, I didn't miss any of her milestones. I felt well for her first birthday - I got to throw her a magical birthday party and bake her an In The Night Garden cake. 

Since then, I've been there for her first day at school, seen her lose her first teeth and helped her write letters for Santa. And in May I'll have been in remission for five years – maybe then I'll finally start to relax and accept I'll be around for Olivia for a long time yet. 

THANKS TO CANCER I'VE MET THE LOVE OF MY LIFE 

Chantal Murrell, 41, is a receptionist who lives in east London. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015 and says: 

Most people's 40th birthdays are spent opening gifts and throwing parties. Mine was too – although I didn't know what was about to hit me.

Four months earlier, in April 2015, I'd been lying in bed when my finger brushed over a small lump in my right breast. I wasn't worried – I thought it was a cyst – but thought I'd get it checked out by my GP. 

Chantal Murrell, 41, was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2015, shortly after this was taken

On a torrentially rainy day two weeks later, after spending the morning in Whipps Cross Hospital's breast clinic having a mammogram, biopsy and scan, I was told by the consultant: 'You have breast cancer.'

I remember gasping out loud - it had never crossed my mind I had cancer – but everything after is a blur. 

All I remember is thinking I was going to die. 

There followed the worst fortnight of my life while I was waiting to find out how serious it was, if it had spread and what treatment I'd need. 

It was incredibly traumatic. Thank goodness I had my mother Anne. She was utterly devastated by the news but didn't show it – instead she'd sit there holding my hand and letting me cry on her shoulder. She was a rock. 

Chantal, pictured just out of surgery, left, and when she got home, right, 

'Dropping the C-bomb', as I called telling people I had the disease, was tough. Not only was I aware I was worrying my loved ones, I also had to be strong enough to comfort them and reassure them I was going to be ok. But strangely, I've also never felt more alive. 

Not knowing how long I had left made me start paying attention to the world around me – I began to notice birdsong, the feel of the breeze on my skin and the sound of babies laughing. Suddenly everything was in technicolour. 

Even so, I don't think the consultant really understood the relief I felt when I walked back into his room and he told me, yes, it was cancer but it was stage two – meaning it hadn't spread - and I only needed an operation to remove the lump and maybe chemotherapy.

He sat reading it off like a shopping list but all I could think was, 'You've just given me back my life.' The tumour was removed on June 19, and it was decided I didn't need chemo but should start radiotherapy in the September. 

After the radiotherapy I started taking tamoxifen, and I needed to carry on taking this for 5 years to help stop my breast cancer coming back. After my cancer had been diagnosed, the thing that burned me the most was the stuff I feared I'd miss - a relationship blossoming, kids growing, my friends and family.

I promised myself that if I survived, I'd sort out my non-existent love life. So, as my 19 daily sessions of radiotherapy came to an end last October, I went online dating. 

Chantal and her Italian boyfriend, Daniele, whom she met after going through treatment

After a few false starts, I was approached by an Italian man called Daniele who worked in Jersey. 

As soon as we talked on the phone, I knew he was a bit special. He was so polite, respectful and interested in who I was, rather than just keen to talk  about himself. 

Earlier this year we met up in London and he was exactly the man I hoped he would be. His reaction to my telling him what I'd been through a few weeks later confirmed this – he was sweet, comforting and encouraging, everything I wanted him to be. We're now talking about me going to join him in the Channel Isles.

So, while I would never want to go through it again, some good has come out of my having cancer - I've met the love of my life.  

MY BABY NEPHEW'S SMILE MAKES IT ALL WORTHWHILE

Alex Samuels, 27, is from Bushey Heath in Hertfordshire and works for a law firm. He was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma 

Alex pictured on his graduation from Leeds University

He says: Holding my nephew Noah in my arms just hours after he was born in May last year was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. After all, things could have been very different: I might not have been here to see him.

In the first week of my final year of university in 2011, I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma – a cancer of the body’s lymphatic system, usually found in much older people. I’d started getting symptoms about six months before – it began with skin irritation, then muscle pain and finally lumps in my neck and under my arm. 

There followed weeks of CT and MRI scans, biopsies and three operations to try to diagnose me – they thought I might have an auto-immune disease at first - until they were finally able to tell me what was wrong.

By then, I’d already read online that these symptoms can be caused by lymphoma. But nothing prepared me to actually hear it – you hear the word ‘cancer’ and think ‘death’. Cancer was still something that happened to other people. 

But worse was seeing my family so emotional. My parents Laura and Neil and my older sister Francesca had come with me to Barnet General Hospital for the diagnosis and they broke down in tears - they were absolutely distraught. 

And telling my grandparents, who are in their 80s, I had cancer was incredibly hard – my father’s an only child and I’m their only grandson. 

I had to have 12 rounds of chemotherapy which left me bald and steroids which made me bloated.  So I was looking quite ill when my sister brought home her new boyfriend that Christmas.

Rafi came into our lives at the perfect time – we all needed something to be happy about, and even though we were a family going through hell, he still wanted to be a part of it. 

Alex undergoing treatment during his 2012 stem cell transplant at UCH in London

In 2012 I had a stem cell transplant at University College Hospital in London because my cancer was at high risk of coming back, even after the chemotherapy I'd had.

Even though I’d been facing death since I was diagnosed, that was the only time I really thought I might die.

The night before the transplant, the consultant told me there was a chance I wouldn’t make it and that’s when it really hit home. 

I spent the next few weeks in hospital where anyone visiting me had to wear an apron and gloves to protect me from germs as my immune system was completely knocked out. 

That’s when I really learned who my friends were. Some didn’t bother to visit whereas others who came regularly are now my closest pals.

Alex, pictured right, at his sister's wedding in July 2013

That September, I went back to restart my final year in German and sociology at Leeds University and, much to the delight of our family, Rafi and Francesca got engaged. 

Proud uncle: Alex with his nephew, Noah

I graduated in July 2013 and the next month my sister got married. I was an emotional wreck the whole day – all the photos show me with a red, puffy face from crying. I couldn’t stop – I just knew under different circumstances I might not have been there. 

Noah was born in May last year and I’ve never been so excited to be an uncle. I love him so much. We all do – I think he can get away with anything!

This coming May my consultant is hoping to sign me off so I won’t have to go back to see him again. 

It will be the end of an era, an era that’s made my outlook on life change completely. I worry about things less now because I know far worse can happen. I’m calmer and more relaxed too. 

After all, if I get through 12 rounds of chemo and a stem cell transplant, I can get through anything.

I survived cancer thanks to the huge advances there have been in chemotherapy treatments over the years because of research by organisations like Cancer Research UK, and I'm truly grateful.

Every two minutes someone in the UK is diagnosed with cancer.  Together we can do something to help them beat it. Donate right now to Cancer Research UK at cruk.org/donate

THE DISCOVERIES THAT HAVE SAVED MILLIONS OF LIVES

Throughout its illustrious 115-year history, Cancer Research UK has been responsible for a host of scientific innovations and discoveries about the disease that have helped save countless lives. Here are just a few of them: 

1923: Cancer Research UK's predecessor, the Cancer Research Campaign charity, starts funding the purchase of radium to treat cervical cancer. Continued research into radiotherapy means that today, it's a vital part of treatment, helping many people survive. 

1953: Scientists discover chemicals based on mustard gas that lead to the development of important chemotherapy drugs - chlorambucil, melphalan and busulphan.  These drugs are still used to treat some leukaemias, myeloma and lymphoma today.  

1964: Scientists discover the first human cancer virus - Epstein-Barr virus. The virus causes some types of lymphoma and cancer of the nasal cavity, and our researchers are now working on vaccines to treat these diseases. 

1972: There's a huge step forward for men with advanced testicular cancer when the drug cisplatin – which Cancer Research UK scientists helped develop – is launched.  Almost all men diagnosed with testicular cancer survive their disease for ten years or more thanks to this treatment.

1978: Scientists prove there is no safe level of asbestos, a material which causes a type of lung cancer called mesothelioma. Asbestos is eventually banned in the UK, saving countless people from developing the disease. 

1980s: Major trials prove the benefits benefits of giving tamoxifen to women with breast cancer after surgery to reduce the risk of their disease coming back.

2001: Cancer Research UK begins trials of a new vaccine to prevent people being infected with the HPV virus which increases the risk of developing cancers including cervical and mouth. The jab is now offered to all UK schoolgirls. 

2004: Large clinical trials show that giving people with operable pancreatic cancer chemotherapy after their surgery triples their chances of surviving. 

2010: A clinical trial testing a new bowel screening technique called bowel scope shows that it can pick up early signs of the disease and even prevent up to a third of cases by allowing doctors to remove precancerous growths called polyps. 

Every day researchers are developing new treatments so that more people can beat cancer sooner. Donate right now to Cancer Research UK at cruk.org/donate