Louise Abrahams – My journey inwards

Louise Abrahams shares her cervical cancer journey and how she reignited her mind-body connection.

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Louise Abrahams lives in Killarney, Gauteng, with her husband and their three children, aged 14, 9, and 7.

Louise’s health challenges began in 2016, when a headache was followed by neurological fallout that disrupted her gait, speech, and vision. Investigations found no physical damage to her nervous system. The symptoms were attributed to stress.

Louise accepted this as something she needed to push through. Life’s stressors felt unavoidable and she believed the only way forward was to persevere. Looking back now, she reflects that she knew little about stress management then. “Pretending to be okay or sucking it up doesn’t qualify as healthy,” she says. The dysfunction was episodic, and symptoms would fluctuate with stress.  

At the end of 2017, Louise had her third child. She breastfed her daughter throughout her pregnancy and then tandem-fed for six months until she was able to wean her daughter. 

Her symptoms became severe during breastfeeding, as though her body had a strong aversion to the continued act of giving when she was depleted. 

In 2019, her menstrual cycle came back. She bled heavily and felt an unusual tenderness in her abdomen. She was confused by the bright red colour and presence of clots being expelled. Sexual intercourse resulted in bleeding and, eventually, pieces of what she imagines was tumour tissue being loosened and torn away.

“It was terrifying,” she recalls, “And even now, the thought of it makes me deeply uncomfortable.”

She knew something was wrong. Although she delayed having a Pap smear until March 2019, she eventually made the appointment. She bled significantly during the procedure, and the gynaecologist was kind and gentle but clearly concerned. Louise could sense what was coming. 

She had regular Pap smears since the age of 21. Her most recent test had been a year prior, after the birth of her youngest, and had shown no concerns. 

Further investigation

The Pap smear result confirmed squamous cell carcinoma of the cervix related to HPV 18. Louise had never been diagnosed with HPV before. She reflects, “It’s scary that HPV 16 and 18 (cancer-causing strains) are often symptomless and can remain dormant in the body for years.”

She remembers feeling embarrassed by the diagnosis, even though her gynae reassured her that almost everyone carries one strain of HPV and that 16 and 18 are commonly and quietly spread. Though meant as consolation, it still felt uncomfortable to share the diagnosis with others.

She was sent for a CT scan and a cone biopsy while waiting to see a gynaecological oncologist. Since she wasn’t planning on having more children, a significant portion of her cervix was removed in the hope of achieving clear margins. Unfortunately, results showed no clear margins, and a Wertheim’s hysterectomy was recommended. Louise’s concern was time away from her children and the sudden end to breastfeeding while she recovered in hospital.

When the CT scan results were reviewed more closely, nodules were identified on her right lung. The tone shifted immediately. A lung biopsy was required; if it confirmed cancer, it would mean Stage 4, and a different treatment plan.

Louise’s mother was with her during that consult, and she remembers the tears, fear, and sharp awareness of mortality. The thoracotomy was done through keyhole incisions rather than open chest. It was on a Friday; by Monday, Louise was back at work, determined to save her sick leave for chemotherapy.

“I was trying to be strong and probably quite dissociated from the reality of what this all meant,” she says.

Unfortunately, the biopsy confirmed lung metastasis.

Chemotherapy and off-label medication

Due to the Stage 4B diagnosis, surgery was no longer beneficial. The cancer was systemic, and a hysterectomy would increase inflammation. Louise began a high-dosage chemotherapy regimen every three weeks. Two weeks after her first session, she lost all her hair. “I felt cross every time I saw a movie with a cancer patient going through chemotherapy who still had eyebrows!” she jokes.

After the first round, she took temporary incapacity leave from work. The forms filled out by nurses included a note about a one-year life expectancy, a procedural detail, but one that brought her to tears.

After the third round, scans showed a stable lung tumour but an advancing primary tumour. The specialist offered her a choice: have a hysterectomy now or begin radiation. Louise was grateful for the choice and opted for the hysterectomy after the fourth chemotherapy treatment.

During this time, Louise began exploring off-label medications that were being studied, in the UK, as part of a metabolic approach to treating cancer. With support from her GP and with her oncologist’s permission, she added medications, such as metformin, statins, doxycycline, mebendazole, and celecoxib to her regimen.

She knew this wasn’t standard care but felt that the potential risks were minimal given her prognosis.

“It was a personal decision, and I probably wouldn’t have taken them if I had an earlier-stage cancer, and definitely not if my oncologist hadn’t allowed it,” she explains.

After the hysterectomy, scans revealed that the lung had no evidence of disease (NED). Hope began to return. She completed chemotherapy, and radiation was deemed unnecessary. In December 2019, there was officially NED and she scheduled for three-monthly follow-ups.

The importance of agency

What Louise found remarkable during treatment was that the neurological symptoms she had been experiencing for years had almost completely disappeared. Initially, she thought they must have been caused by the growing cancer. But when she returned to teaching, in 2020, they resurfaced.

She attributed this to the constant people-pleasing and overstimulation the job required, masking her fatigue and stress. A new fear arose that if she didn’t manage her stress response, her risk of recurrence would increase.

After further investigation, she was diagnosed with functional neurological disorder (FND), a psychosomatic brain network disorder. Treatment is focused on building stronger brain-body connection, stress management, and emotional processing. For the first time, Louise began to see her symptoms as communication from her body rather than weaknesses to overcome. She started to honour them as indicators of her needs.

She explains, “Experiencing a chronic illness often leads to a deep sense of disconnection from your body, a feeling that your body has somehow let you down. On top of  that, surrendering your body to repeated and often painful testing, filling it with medication, undergoing surgery, and being constantly poked, prodded, and observed can make your body feel like a specimen for fixing.” 

Later, she came to understand that this sense of disconnection was the very mind-body relationship she needed to repair and care for.

She discovered the importance of boundaries and agency, advocating for and protecting her own well-being as both a priority and a responsibility, not a selfish act.

The act of choosing healing

The following year, 2021, marked the beginning of inward healing. She engaged in talk therapy, was treated for complex post-traumatic stress disorder and severe depression and worked with a physiotherapist. Her team emphasised that recovery from FND required integration of both mind and body.

Louise committed to a consistent yoga practice and, later in 2021, discovered Tension and Trauma Release Exercises (TRE) and neurogenic tremoring. It was a pivotal moment. The tremors felt cathartic, as if her body was finally expressing something it had been holding for years.

Reflecting on her journey, Louise says, “Autonomy and agency are essential to healing.”

She remains grateful to the doctors who listened, offered choice, and validated her curiosity and fear. 

She went on to study undergraduate psychology and aimed to become a TRE provider, hoping to share the same catharsis and self-connection that transformed her recovery.

Community 

Louise is grateful for the support of her family, friends, doctors, colleagues, students, their parents, and the wider community. She received kindness in countless forms: presence, hugs, meals, messages, gifts, prayers, tears, and laughter.

She says, “The hopefulness that this created meant I felt less trapped in trauma and fear of death. It helped me find small pieces of goodness in days that felt impossibly heavy, and that kept me going.”

Because she wasn’t certain how much life lay ahead, Louise began to hold the present more tenderly. Every moment felt magnified, a nourishing meal, a cuddle with her children, time in nature, or even a heart-wrenching cry. 

When uncomfortable thoughts surfaced, she no longer hid them; she remembers telling her husband what kind of woman she hoped he’d choose one day if he had to remarry, the kind who would love and mother their children well.

Her family of five lived with her parents, who offered unwavering care and stability. “My mom and dad were there in every possible way,” she says. “They went above and beyond anything I could’ve asked for.” 

Her siblings visited often, bringing laughter and normalcy to her children’s days. Her sister joined her in researching the metabolic pathways of cancer, helping her build a deeper understanding of supplements, diet, and exercise.

She began to see that her family would be held and supported no matter what happened, and that awareness allowed her to focus fully on fighting her way back to health.

Needing to go within

After treatment finished, a new challenge emerged, Louise found it difficult to identify with her pre-cancer self. She sometimes found herself wishing for the sickness back, not the suffering itself, but the closeness, attention, and tenderness it brought.

She says, “It felt lonely to carry fears that no one could see anymore, especially when I was supposed to just feel grateful and excited to be alive.”

Louise struggled with anxiety about mortality and noticed how quickly people moved on once she was better. The external support that had once held her up faded away, and she realised that the next phase of healing couldn’t come from others; it had to come from within.

Louise realised she needed to rebuild inner trust, sense of safety, and connection. It wasn’t about fixing herself, but about learning to become her own ally. Through talk therapy and somatic practices, she began to reconnect with her body in a new way, not as something that needed to be controlled or cured, but as a partner in her well-being.

Today, she describes this relationship as a team within herself; mind-body-spirit, each taking turns to lead when one is depleted and working in union as often as possible. She adds, “It’s a relationship that needs to be honoured, just like a marriage, through time spent together, conversation and silence, resolving conflict, and meeting each other’s needs.”

Intimacy

Louise remembers the gynae-oncologist saying that there is less awareness around cervical cancer because, “Boobs are sexy, and vaginas aren’t.” This stuck with her because she still experiences it as awkward when someone asks what cancer she had.

She was fearful of sexual intercourse when it was allowed again. She explains that the body is amazingly adaptive, and there is no changed sensation or function. Sex was initially painful, partly due to apprehension, protection, and tension that would arrive physically. 

Louise also struggled to get used to the large scar on her stomach, her baldness, and then short hair. Chemo resulted in temporary menopause and Louise felt particularly unsexy, unfeminine, and often irritable with hot flushes and heart palpitations. 

Her husband was patient, gentle, and encouraging. She says, “He always affirms me and makes an effort to show his attraction and affection.” 

Louise feels it’s important to know that even if you’ve one sexual partner that you’re still at risk of contracting HPV if your partner has had more than one sexual partner, and that it’s best to be vaccinated before becoming sexually active. 

She will vaccinate all her children with the newest vaccine because it protects against nine strains of HPV. Louise will also educate her daughter on Pap smears. 

Well-equipped and happy

Louise changed careers in 2024 and now offers full time education in TRE and stress management. She manages her own FND symptoms with TRE, yoga, and Pilates and feels excited about and engaged in life even though it’s busier than ever. She feels well-equipped to manage rather than suppress stress and makes this a responsibility to eat, move, and connect well.

Photos by Mandy Steenkamp Photography | Follow @mandysteenkampphotography