A woman who thought her headaches were down to caffeine withdrawal after quitting a 12-cup-a-day habit has been told she has 15 years to live – after being diagnosed with brain cancer. Abi Feltham, 37-year-old, says she has taken the prognosis well, adding: “I was expecting five years, so when they said 15, I thought, fantastic! That’s practically an entire second life! But really, I’m just trying to make the most of the time I have.”
In April 2020, Abi got sober after a years-long battle with alcohol and drug addiction. “I was drinking vodka in my tea just to start the day,” she said. “If I kept going, I wouldn’t have made it.”
In May 2024 she was diagnosed with a grade 3 oligodendroglioma. At first, Abi shrugged off her symptoms—excruciating headaches, brain fog, and bouts of nausea—blaming them on caffeine withdrawal.
“I was drinking about 12 coffees a day, then quit cold turkey,” she explains. “So naturally, I thought my body was just punishing me for that betrayal.”
But when her vision blurred to the point where her boyfriend, Stef, had to guide her around like a seeing-eye dog, she finally booked an optician appointment. A quick scan revealed swollen optic nerves—signalling dangerous pressure in her brain. “I wasn’t worried,” Abi said.
“Then the doctor said, ‘I’m calling the neuro team,’ and that’s when I knew—ah, crap, this is serious.”
A CT scan at St Mary’s Hospital in Paddington confirmed it: a mass on her brain. Within days, she was on an operating table for surgery number one. Enter Dr. Butterfingers—her affectionate nickname for the surgeon who, in a moment of comic horror, dropped a piece of her skull on the floor during the operation.
“He literally told me, ‘Five-second rule, we picked it up and put it back in. You’re on antibiotics, just in case,’” Abi laughs. “So technically, part of my head has touched a hospital floor. Love that for me.”
After draining a cyst pressing on her brain, her eyesight and pain improved instantly. “I thought maybe I was in the clear,” she says. But two weeks later, reality struck: the tumour was aggressive, cancerous, and she needed another surgery—immediately.
This time, the goal was to remove as much of the tumour as possible without paralysing her.
“Dr. Butterfingers told me, ‘I’ll try my hardest not to mess up your left side,’” she recalls. “Not exactly comforting, mate.”
Despite the dire warnings, Abi bounced back like a champ. Discharged just two days later, she was back in the gym—bandages and all—powerlifting with the same determination she’s applied to every battle in her life. The final diagnosis? A grade 3 oligodendroglioma. Incurable. Estimated 15 years left to live.
For some, this would be crushing. For Abi, it’s fuel. “There was a time when I didn’t care if I lived or died. But now? I’ve built a life worth living. So I’m going to live it.”
As an Ambassador for Brain Tumour Research, she’s determined to raise awareness and push for change. “Only 1% of national cancer research funding goes to brain tumours,” she says. “That’s unacceptable.”
While undergoing chemotherapy, Abi has kept her sense of humour intact. “Before I take my Lomustine, Stef and I joke that it sounds like a posh aristocrat’s last name. ‘Ah yes, Frederick Lomustine, cytotoxic drug extraordinaire!’” she laughs. “It’s the little things that keep you going.”
With just two more chemo cycles left, Abi is already planning her next move. “I want to write a book—part memoir, part self-help. If my story can help someone struggling with addiction, depression, or illness, then it’s worth sharing.”
Her outlook on life has shifted in the most unexpected way. “I spent so much of my life running from myself, drowning in self-hatred. And now? Cancer has made me grateful, positive, even happy,” she says.
“I mean, I don’t recommend getting cancer for a mindset shift, but it’s definitely done the trick.”
One thing’s for sure—Abi isn’t going anywhere quietly. “If I’ve only got 15 years left, I’m going to make them count,” she says.
“And if Dr. Butterfingers could not drop any more body parts, that’d be great.”
And with that, she takes a sip of coffee (because yes, caffeine is back on the menu) and heads to the gym—because cancer or not, Abi Feltham is unstoppable.
