- In 2020, Jeanette was set to retire and move to Bali, living her days by the beach with her Cat, Mickey
- However, when the pandemic hit, Jeanette lost her income as a chef, bringing her plans to a halt
- Feeling depressed, she visited the doctor.
- Jeanette’s mum, who’d passed away years earlier, came to her in her mind, asking her to ask her doctor for an MRI.
- Little did Jeanette know her life was about to be saved
- Jeanette Taylor, 69, from Brisbane shares her story below….
I put the phone down and reached for my black and white cat, Mickey.
“What am I going to do?” I asked her, stroking her soft fur as she purred gently.
It was late 2020, I was a chef, and only six months short of retirement age.
Having gone on holiday to Bali more than twenty times before, I planned for Mickey and I to retire there.
I’d already put the wheels in motion, selling off all my furniture, giving up my apartment and moving in with a stranger temporarily.
Read more: My whole body is covered in tumours
But now my boss had just called to say the restaurant where I worked had to be closed because of COVID.
It meant I no longer had an income, leaving my plans in shambles.
It was at times like these that I missed my mum, Joy.
We’d been close before she died, a couple of years before, aged 90, from old age.
She had raised me and my three siblings single-handedly after my father had faked his death and walked out on us.
Always wanting to help others, she volunteered for Barnardos for years, even after she’d retired.
She was a strong woman and an inspiration, so I had always sought her advice.
I’d been depressed for years, but the pandemic made it worse.
In September 2021, I’d run out of antidepressants, so I made an appointment to see my GP.
I sat opposite her as she tapped away at her computer.
Suddenly, I heard my mother’s voice, clear as day, inside my head.
“Ask her for an MRI,” she said.
“Is there anything else?” the doctor asked, looking up at me.
“Yes, I’d like an MRI,” I replied.
The doctor frowned at me.
“Why?” she asked. “Have you had any symptoms?
I didn’t know what to say.
I’m claustrophobic, and the thought of an MRI terrified me. But I knew if my dead mum was telling me to do this, then I should probably listen.
So, I settled on the truth.
“My mum, who died a few years ago, has just told me I need to do one,” I said.
My doctor smiled at me and nodded.
Join 66,000+ readers who love our true, real-life stories. From shocking true crime to the most heartwarming moments, sign up for Take 5’s free weekly newsletter and never miss a story!
Maybe she thought I was losing my marbles.
But, to my amazement, she wrote me a referral.
I drove straight to the clinic and had my MRI.
You’d better be right about this, Mum, I thought as the machine whirred over me.
A few days later, my GP called me.
“You need to come and see me and bring someone with you,” she said.
I knew it was bad news.
I took along my best friend, Michelle, and her parents, Bev and Kev.
They held my hands as the doctor pulled my MRI results up onto her computer screen.
“Turns out your mum was right,” my GP said. “You have a brain tumour behind your left eye.”
It was 3cm in size.
The others cried, but I stayed strong.
Michelle came with me to Brisbane, where I had surgery to remove the tumour.
It was benign, and the doctors were satisfied they’d removed it.
I had 34 staples down my head to show for it.
My GP came to visit me while I was still recovering in the hospital and brought a training nurse with her.
“This woman told me she wanted an MRI even though she had no symptoms,” she told her. “It just goes to show you have to listen to your patients. She saved herself from cancer.”
Since then, Mum has spoken to me or sends signs regularly, often revolving around the number 29, her birthday.
When I was having the brain tumour removed, the wristband on me in the hospital had 29 on it.
Recently, I went for a scan, and unfortunately, the brain tumour is back.
This time, the doctors want to treat it with radiation, but I’m not keen.
I’d rather keep going for MRIs and then, if it gets big enough, have it surgically removed again.
Weirdly, I believe the pandemic saved my life.
If I’d gone to Bali, I might never have discovered my brain tumour.
I also thank Mum regularly for what she did.
My hero, even beyond the grave.
