When Alexe, from Carmarthenshire in Wales, began experiencing unexplained blackouts at 23, she never imagined it was being caused by a brain tumour. Diagnosed with stress, it wasn’t until her mother intervened that Alexe received the lifesaving scan that revealed a large mass on her brain.
She faced a terrifying 80% chance of not surviving surgery and later suffered a stroke, fell into a coma, and had to relearn how to walk, talk, and grieve the loss of her father all over again. Despite being told she would never have children, Alexe is now a proud mum of two, has fostered 29 children with her husband, and continues to defy the odds every day.
Alexe tells her story…
In October 2003, I was 23 and working in a hair salon. Life was just beginning. I’d moved away from home and was starting to feel independent, but I kept collapsing and passing out, and no one could tell me why.
Because I’d recently moved, I had a new doctor. He told me it was stress adapting to my new life and gave me painkillers. But things didn’t get better, I was scared, and my mum was worried too. She came and took me back to our old family doctor, who thankfully took one look at me and told me to go straight to hospital.
I had an MRI scan at Morriston General Hospital in Swansea, and that’s when they found the tumour.
It was a moment I’ll never forget, my mum burst into tears.
The doctors said I needed surgery straight away. There was an 80% chance I wouldn’t survive the operation, and even if I did, there was a 20% chance I’d be severely disabled. They said I had to go through with it, otherwise I wouldn’t live.
I was numb, shocked, and horrified. I didn’t have many choices. Thinking back to that time, it’s still all a blur. It was the start of my life being independent, then everything just fell apart.
I was put on epilepsy medication to prevent seizures, and two weeks later in October 2023 I had surgery which lasted 16 hours. The original plan was to remove the tumour through my nose, but they realised it was too large, so they had to open my skull.
Within 24 hours of the operation, I had a bleed on my brain and was rushed back in for a second surgery. I was placed into a coma and stayed in hospital for six months. While I was in the coma, I saw my dad, I'd forgotten that he had died, but I remember him clearly, telling me to “go back”. When I finally woke up, they told me I’d suffered a stroke and had died on the operating table. I’d been brought back.
When I woke up, I couldn’t speak, walk or move the right side of my body. I was in a wheelchair, and my memory was completely gone.
I thought the hospital was my home. I didn’t know who my brother or best friend were. I even had to go through the grief of reliving the loss of my dad all over again.
I was diagnosed eventually with a neurocytoma to the pituitary gland and remained in hospital for nearly a year. I had to relearn everything, how to talk, how to move. I did speech therapy and physio. At first, I communicated by pointing at pictures, if I wanted to talk to my mum, I’d point to her photo.
In 2006, I met my husband Dean. Life started to feel normal again, but in 2007, I began getting headaches. An MRI scan at Singleton General Hospital showed the tumour had grown back.
Hearing the tumour had returned filled me with dread. I was terrified. It broke my heart to think I had to go through it all again.
I had a week of intensive radiotherapy at Whitchurch Community Hospital in Shropshire, and luckily, that stopped the tumour from growing. But I was told I wouldn’t be able to have children due to the treatment. That news crushed me.
Dean and I tried IUI, after three attempts it didn’t work, so we decided to foster. Over the years, we’ve fostered 29 children, and one of them, Mikey, is now a permanent part of our family.
Eventually, we gave IVF another go, and it worked. I fell pregnant with our daughter Amelia, who’s now 12. Then, in 2014, I started to feel unwell again and thought, “Oh no, not the tumour”. But instead, the doctor told me I was naturally pregnant.
I was so thrilled, relieved, and shocked. After everything I’d been through, and after being told I couldn’t have children, to be pregnant naturally, it felt like a miracle.
Our second daughter, Georgia-Mae, is now nine. Today, I still go for scans every six months, and I live with some delayed speech, but I’ve regained full mobility. I stay active by doing parkruns and try to keep positive and healthy.
Brain tumours aren’t always the end. I’ve had a brain tumour, a stroke, and was brought back to life.
And here I am, a mum, a foster carer, and I’m running every opportunity I get for Brain Tumour Research. There’s hope. There is life after brain tumours.
Alexeanne Cherrington
August 2025
One in three people in the UK knows someone affected by a brain tumour. This disease is indiscriminate; it can affect anyone at any age. What’s more, brain tumours continue to kill more children and adults under the age of 40 than any other cancer yet, to date, just 1% of the national spend on cancer research has been allocated to this devastating disease since records began in 2002.
Brain Tumour Research is determined to change this.
If you have been inspired by Alexe story, you may like to make a donation via www.braintumourresearch.org/donate or leave a gift in your will via www.braintumourresearch.org/legacy
Together we will find a cure.
