Jade Goody - Forever in My Heart - The Story of My Battle Against Cancer

I didn’t want to smile or chat to anyone because all I could think of was that C-word.

I have cancer .

I wanted to get home and for my mum to rub my head the way she sometimes did and tell me everything would be okay.

I tried to close my eyes and think of my boys. Most of all I longed to touch their soft skin and kiss their cheeks so hard. I wanted to hold them like I’d never done before.

I tried to just listen to the hum of the plane engines and ignore the sound of babies crying and moody passengers asking for more drinks or extra blankets.

I didn’t want anything now except my family.

I pushed a pillow up against the window, closed my eyes and thought of Jack.

Imagining him holding me and telling me it was all a dream made me feel a bit better.

As all these thoughts were rushing through my mind, I wanted to scream ‘Why me?’

Just when I was getting on with my life and putting all the bad things behind me. My mum becoming a crack addict when I was eighteen; my dad’s horrible death of a heroin overdose in a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant; my bad relationships; the racism row over my argument with Shilpa Shetty. Why is the Big Man in the Sky giving me another challenge?

Then I suddenly got this really weird feeling.

I don’t know how to explain it but I thought that if my life was in danger, it was about time I sorted it all out. It made me want to do special things.

Like make peace with my dad. He’s dead, so why do I still hate him? I decided I would go and put some flowers on his grave.

I wanted to see my half-brothers: my dad’s son Miles, who I’d never even met before, and my mum’s son Brett.

I wanted truly, properly to forgive my mum. To tell her none of the past mattered any more.

Bobby and Freddy were only five and three but I decided I wanted to take my two special boys to a poor country and let them see that what they have–all the toys and holidays and the nice home–is not like that for everyone. I wanted them to appreciate the things we had.

And, for me this is weird, I wanted to reach out somehow and find a religion.

I never listened in my RE lessons at school–or any lessons at school for that matter–and I don’t know much about God and religious stuff. Churches always seemed like a place for other people.

Now I was forced to think about dying I wanted to understand about living. For I could suddenly see that despite everything I’ve had–like my kids, houses, money and fame–I hadn’t really deeply appreciated it, because I didn’t think I had to.

I didn’t want to feel any more anger. I wanted to be at peace with everyone now.

I sat and thought about the list of things I wanted to do as the plane carried me back home to my family thousands of miles away. I had no idea how long I might have to do them all so I’d have to get started straight away. Just in case.

The flight took eleven hours and it was the following morning when we landed at Heathrow. I unclipped my seatbelt and felt myself welling up again.

For the past nine years, since Big Brother 3 in 2002, I have lived my life in the spotlight and I knew this would be no different. I’ll never forget that moment when I stepped outside the Big Brother house and saw those cameras flashing and realised: ‘Oh my god, I must be famous!’

But landing at Heathrow that morning I wished I could switch it all off for the day.

An air stewardess led me to the VIP lounge. I put my arm through hers and walked as fast as I could. My legs still felt like jelly. I wanted to run away and hide.

The word ‘cancer’ seemed to be etched behind my eyes and echoing round my head.

Then I spotted a big horde of photographers waiting for me.

I could hear the clicking of the camera shutters as I approached. I kept my head down but my feet were lighting up with flashes as I stumbled across the swirly-patterned carpet.

I’m used to being in the spotlight, and usually a few paps don’t bother me at all. This time, though, I felt the heat of the lights and all those eyes on me and I felt so vulnerable, as if I’d forgotten to put my clothes on.

I clenched my lips together and my heart started to beat really fast. I didn’t want to cry again, but the tears were never far from the surface.

Then there was another huge flash and the tears began dripping from my eyelashes. Of course that made them snap away even more. That’s what they wanted: Tragic Jade Breaks Down; Jade In Tears at Cancer Diagnosis.

We got outside with the help of a police escort and I threw myself onto the back seat of the car. I felt safer away from the spotlight.

I switched my phone on and straight away lots of texts came through. Carly, my friend who helped me open my Ugly beauty salon, had sent me a text saying she’d heard the news and was thinking of me. I was glad she’d got in touch. We’d drifted apart a bit after the salon closed but now I wanted to make peace with everyone. Having cancer makes you realise any bad feelings are just not worth it.

Of course, if she had heard that meant it had been reported in the press already. It figured. When you get your diagnosis on TV, you’re not going to keep it secret for long because even though the producers edited it out, it would have appeared on the internet.

I watched the motorway rushing past the window.

‘ You know, Jade ,’ I thought, ‘ it isn’t that bad. It can’t be. You’re a mum. You need to be here and live for your boys. You can’t possibly die; you’re just too young. You’ve got cancer; you’ll get it sorted .’

Why would this happen to me anyway? I’d taken more crap than most people, so why this as well? On top of everything else, why cancer?

Come on, Jade. Worst things have happened. Surely. Haven’t they?

Images of bald people crowded my head. Very sick people with oxygen tanks by their beds and tubes in their arms. Hospitals. Treatments.

Fuck it, it IS bad. It’s cancer! You don’t get much more serious than that…

By the time I’d reached my house, I felt a bit calmer. Almost convinced this couldn’t be real.

I spotted the shadows of photographers outside my house and kept my head down as I opened the door.

They shouted at me: ‘Jade, Jade, are you okay? How do you feel?’

Well, how did they think I felt?

Normally, you just try and stop me from saying something. I open my mouth and say whatever jumps into my head. All too often the words bypass my brain so I end up getting into trouble again. But this time was different. My whole world had changed.

That old Jade had gone and now the words were stuck in my throat. My mouth felt so dry, I wanted to get myself inside the house and away from all the media.

I rang the bell and waited for Jack to answer. I was so relieved when the door opened and I saw him holding out his arms that I just walked right into them. I felt small and weak and helpless as he squeezed me tightly. Funny, because we weren’t even supposed to be officially together at that time–whatever ‘officially’ means.

We’d split up ten months earlier because we were always rowing and having ups and downs. He was six years younger than me and could be a bit immature. He certainly wasn’t ready for the media spotlight that came with being my boyfriend. Paps were always catching him out with his arm round girls in clubs or whatever, and sometimes I knew it was an innocent thing, but not always. But despite everything, I knew I had a friend in Jack, so we’d always carried on seeing each other and spending time with each other. We couldn’t seem to keep away.

And there is no one who gives me hugs like he does. You know the ones where your problems all seem to melt away?