Before my breast diagnosis, my diet was... if not terrible, pretty close to it. I was a trainee breast surgeon constantly on the go, either working long hours, fuelled by Red Bull, out drinking with colleagues or (occasionally) sleeping.
I mostly ate beige foods: bowls of cereal, chips, the odd bagel or ready meal. If it could be eaten on the go, in a few minutes, all the better. Fresh fruit and veg – and cooking, for that matter – rarely entered the picture.
Getting married to my husband Dermot meant my diet did improve, but whenever he was away, I reverted to my old habits. And in 2015, aged 40, after I learned I had the disease that I'd spent my career treating, that didn't change.
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