Sameira Khan, 27, a former community pharmacist and fitness enthusiast from Bradford, began experiencing fatigue, vomiting, and a severe headache in April 2025, weeks after gallbladder surgery. A CT scan at Bradford Royal Infirmary revealed a brain tumour, and she was transferred to Leeds for surgery. Doctors removed most of the tumour but left some in place to avoid damaging critical brain function. Diagnosed with an IDH-mutant astrocytoma, a high-grade glioma, Sameira is now undergoing radiotherapy and chemotherapy and has launched a fundraising campaign to support Brain Tumour Research.
Sameira tells her story…
In early March 2025, I had surgery to remove my gallbladder after months of recurring pain and gallstones. A few days before the operation, I noticed some weakness in my right arm. I didn’t think much of it at the time and decided to focus on getting through the surgery first.
Nearly a month later, over Easter weekend, I woke in the middle of the night with a headache so intense, it stopped me in my tracks.
I don’t usually get headaches, so this felt completely out of the ordinary. I took some paracetamol and went back to sleep, but the next morning I felt sluggish and disoriented. I overslept and was late to work – something that rarely happened.
That Sunday, while doing my usual weekly meal prep with my sister, I felt so fatigued I could barely manage even a few tasks. Later that day, I vomited. The colour was bright yellow, unlike anything I’d seen before, so I knew something wasn’t right.
By Wednesday, my symptoms had worsened. I was still fatigued, confused, and the headache hadn’t gone away. We called for an ambulance, but were told my symptoms weren’t considered severe enough. Eventually, my sister took me to A&E at Bradford Royal Infirmary. We waited around six hours before I was seen.
The doctor initially suspected food poisoning but thankfully requested a CT scan. At midnight, I was told they had found a brain tumour.
I didn’t fully grasp the seriousness of it at the time. My family was informed before I was, and plans were made to transfer me to Leeds General Infirmary. However, there were no beds available, so I remained at Bradford for another 12 hours. During that time, my condition deteriorated. My heart rate began to drop, and I became more confused and disoriented.
The next morning, I was rushed to Leeds. I barely remember arriving but the team acted fast, carrying out an MRI and running tests. I was sick during the scan and still wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. A surgeon met me shortly after and explained I needed emergency brain surgery. I was handed a consent form and told about the risks such as stroke, permanent damage, or even death. I was terrified, but I signed it.
The surgery went ahead immediately. Later, I learned the surgeons had removed most of the tumour, but a small part was left in place to avoid damaging areas of my brain that control movement. I was discharged after four days, still in a daze. At first, I thought I had just woken from my gallbladder surgery. I couldn’t understand why my arms and legs were being tested, until I slowly realised what had happened.
A week later, I received my formal diagnosis: an IDH-mutant astrocytoma, which is a high-grade, cancerous glioma.
It was a complete shock. Just weeks earlier I was working, exercising, and focused on developing my career as a prescribing pharmacist. Now, I was facing a life-changing diagnosis and an uncertain future.
I was told I’d need six weeks of radiotherapy and chemotherapy, followed by six months of oral chemotherapy after a short break so in May, I began treatment. As a pharmacist, I understand how these drugs work, but knowing their side effects doesn’t make going through them any easier. It’s frightening being on the other side, as the patient.
When I was told my prognosis could be as little as 12 to 16 months, I was devastated. A later conversation with my oncologist gave me some hope because he said I could have several more years depending on how well I respond to treatment. That’s what I’m holding on to: the chance for more time.
I’ve always looked after my health, stayed active, and planned ahead. I never thought something like this could happen to me at 27.
For a while, I kept the diagnosis to myself. I needed time to come to terms with it. Eventually, I decided to speak up and do something positive with the situation.
I launched a fundraising campaign and, just by sharing my story on Instagram, raised over £1,200. Now, I want to go further. As a British Pakistani woman, I’ve noticed how rare it is to see people from my background sharing stories like this. In our communities, it can be difficult to talk openly about illness, but I believe change starts with visibility. Brain tumours don’t discriminate and we all need to be more aware.
Brain tumours are the leading cause of cancer deaths among children and adults under 40, yet just 1 percent of the national spend on cancer research is allocated to them. That isn’t good enough. We need more investment, better treatments, and ultimately a cure.
I don’t know exactly what the future holds, but I am determined to make the most of it by raising awareness and supporting research that could help others. If sharing my experience makes even one person feel less alone, it’s worth every moment.
Sameira Khan
June 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 Sameira’s 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.
