This time last year I was a single mum bringing up my two sons George, five, and three-year-old Charlie. If you’d told me then that by now I’d not only be married, but that the man I married would have saved my life, I would never have believed it.

My husband works as an undertaker and after 20 years of horror stories from bereaved families about how doctors had misdiagnosed their loved ones, he is extremely cautious about health. and it’s down to him that I’m alive today after finding a cancer I didn’t know I had.

As a single mum, I’d always dreamed of meeting someone special again after splitting from the boys’ dad a few years ago. I started internet dating in January last year and soon met Andy, 36, on the dating site eHarmony. We hit it off straight away. he was thoughtful, funny and charming – everything I wanted in a man.

It was a whirlwind romance. within weeks Andy told me he loved me and in May we moved in together. Just a few days after settling into our new home, Andy got down on one knee and proposed. I was over the moon.

But my happiness was short-lived as days later I was told I had cervical cancer.

I’d experienced bleeding between my periods for a few years, which had been getting worse for a year. I’d been to see six or seven doctors who all assured me it was nothing serious.

But when I told Andy about the bleeding he begged me to get checked it out again. I was reluctant at first. after all, all those doctors couldn’t be wrong, could they? I felt embarrassed at the prospect of visiting yet another GP and seeming like a hypochondriac.

But Andy kept pestering me to make an appointment and one weekend he sat me down and told me in no uncertain terms that I had to go. my symptoms weren’t normal, he said.

He looked panicked as he told me about people who’d died because their doctors had got it wrong. he was relentless in his nagging, and insisted I went. in hindsight, he was completely right.

I booked a doctor’s appointment for the following week, assuming the doctor would tell me that spotting between my periods was probably a side effect of the pill and suggest I switch to another. not for one minute did it cross my mind that I might have cancer.

It was when the nurse went to fetch the doctor half way through my smear test that I realised something was amiss. I could tell from the expression on his face it wasn’t good news. after I got dressed, the doctor took my hand, looked over the top of his glasses and told me I should prepare myself for the very real possibility that I might have cervical cancer.

I was in complete shock. what had started off as a routine appointment had ended with me being told I might have a terminal illness. I was confused – didn’t you have to undergo lots of tests before being diagnosed with something like that?

Advertisement – article continues below »

The doctor explained that it was clear from the swab that I had a tumour on my cervix and he immediately referred me to a hospital.

I called Andy from the surgery in floods of tears but after that it’s all a bit of a blur. Andy and I spent the next few days just crying and trying to come to terms with the news.

I was told I would need radical treatment, including a hysterectomy, radiotherapy and chemo. the tumour was thought to have been growing for up to a year and had already spread to the lymph nodes in my groin, so they would need to be removed, too. I tried to be positive but all I could think about was how my boys would cope if I died. I thought of the parallels with Jade Goody, who had also been diagnosed with cervical cancer when her two sons were under five. I decided that, like Jade, I’d make memory boxes for George and Charlie so they could remember me when I was gone. But just thinking about it broke my heart.

My sons knew that mummy had a ‘sore tummy’ but, being so young, they were blissfully unaware of how serious it was. I felt sick at the thought of them growing up without a mum. and the thought of leaving Andy so soon was horrendous. I can’t begin to describe how devastating it feels to think you could only have a few precious months left with the man you love.

We’d planned to get married in July but we had to postpone the wedding while I went through treatment. I had my lymph nodes removed and in July I had a hysterectomy, followed by weeks of radiotherapy and chemotherapy.

It was an incredibly tough time. I was in pain and the chemotherapy made me feel nauseous so I couldn’t eat and I lost a lot of weight. But I was determined to keep going for Andy and the boys.

I’m just so glad it was caught in time and I dread to think what could have happened if I’d left it any longer. the doctor said that a few months down the line it could have been a different story.

Our friends assumed we would put off the wedding indefinitely, but that was the last thing I wanted to do. planning for the wedding is what kept me going.

Andy was my rock. We’d only known each other six months when I was diagnosed, and we’d only been living together for two, but he took control. his whole focus was on getting me better.

I finished my treatment in September and just two weeks later Andy and I tied the knot in a beautiful ceremony witnessed by 14 of our closest family and friends. it was magical and as I said my vows I couldn’t help thinking it was all thanks to Andy and the weekend he begged me to get checked out that I was alive. who knows when I’d have got round to making that appointment – if ever.

I still don’t think he realises how significant what he did really is. But I’ll never forget what Andy did for me, and it’s certainly brought us closer together. Andy means everything to me and I’m convinced falling in love with him saved my life.

Shona Clark, 35, from Grantham, Lincolnshire