It was my friend Sarah Ferguson who finally persuaded me to get checked out, so it’s possible that I owe her my life
The Duchess of York had been given her own breast cancer diagnosis a few months earlier and, when she learned that my own mother had died in this way, she demanded I get a mammogram. She was really on my case.
At first, I resisted.
I’d long been interested in the subject, not least because of my family history, but I was in denial cancer would ever come for me.
I’d supported the great work of Donald Trump’s son, Eric, raising millions with the St Jude Children’s Research Hospital and hosted a charity fundraiser for CLIC Sargent, the childhood cancer specialists, in London with Cherie Blair, lawyer and wife of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair.
But me? Cancer? No, that happens to other people.
Sarah kept on at me until I finally got checked – and her fears were confirmed: I had an early-stage tumor around the size of a thumb nail in my breast.
The fact it was still so small was, of course, down to Sarah’s persistence.
After the diagnosis, I assumed I faced a small operation with short recovery time to follow, that I’d continue my film-making career as a matter of course.
In fact, my nightmare had only begun.
Daphne Barak, right, pictured with her friend Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York. The Duchess, who was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2023, urged Daphne to get a mammogram
Daily Mail readers might be familiar with some of my projects, such as the first and only print and televised interview with Ghislaine Maxwell from behind bars and the interviews with Britney Spears’ children in which, breaking their years of silence, they begged her to get well and start being part of their lives once again.
Many women may not be aware, but if your mother had breast cancer, your lifetime risk of also being diagnosed is up to 30 percent, compared to the average woman’s risk of 13 percent.
If your mom had it before age 50, your risk is even higher.
And if her cancer was caused by a genetic mutation, your risk is 45-80 percent, depending on the specific mutation.
The fact my cancer was early-stage meant the operation to remove by tumor would be relatively simple and quick.
My type of cancer also made me suitable for hormone treatment, which can slow down tumor growth.
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And since I was fit, I could cope with a short but intensive five-day course of radiation treatment.
I continued to travel until the operation in April 2024, trying hard not to think about going under the knife or what it might mean for the longer term.
It was only when my home started filling up with flowers and ‘You Will Win’ messages of good will that it finally clicked. This was serious.
The operation was quick. Dr Anne Wallace, the chief breast cancer surgeon in University of California San Diego Hospital (UCSD) used to be a plastic surgeon so, God Bless her, I was delighted to find there was no scar.
When the radiation treatment was over, I figured, I was cancer-free.
Well – not so fast.
Daphne undergoes chemotherapy and cold cap treatment at UCSD hospital
I was enjoying myself with friends in Italy when I got the call.
My cancer was aggressive, I was told, so aggressive that I had a 47 per cent chance of recurrence unless I went through preventative chemo.
Fortunately, my oncologist, Prof Becky Shatzky, assured me that advances in research mean that, today, the right balance of chemotherapy and hormone/immune treatment really could protect me in future.
But I was shaking just listening to it.
My friends suggested other, more experimental, treatments to avoid the brutal side effects of chemotherapy, such as stem cell therapy and holistic approaches.
But I decided with my partner, Bill, we were going to beat this cancer for life.
And that’s where the hard work really began.
But it was not without its moments of humor.
During chemo, I was given cold cap treatment, which is used to help reduce hair loss during chemotherapy treatments.
Like the name suggests, it involves wearing a special cap that circulates cold liquid around the scalp, constricting blood vessels and reducing the amount of chemotherapy drugs that reach the hair follicles.
I was staying in a hotel next door to the hospital for the treatment since the cap must be changed exactly every 25 minutes.
So, I had planned to go down to the dining room with the cap on while I waited. I knew the staff and the owner, after all.
But when they put a heavy seven-pound contraption on my head, I understood why the therapists had been amused by my suggestion.
It was so heavy, that when I walked they needed to hold my head to stop me breaking my neck.
The cold cap was so heavy that a therapist had to hold her head while she walked
Chemo was no walk in the park. I was in bed, aching all over my body, nauseous, unable to eat.
After two weeks, my face was burning as if I’d been scalded.
One of my eyes closed down, the lid stuck shut. It looked as though I was auditioning for a role in Pirates of the Caribbean.
I was in pain. Vomiting became a regular part of my day. It was a tearful, traumatic process.
And while I kept much of my hair. I woke up one morning to discover that I’d lost my long thick eye lashes.
I was staring at the mirror, looking at my eyes – and they were sort of naked.
Dr Wallace promised me that a $70 product , available online would get my eyelashes back in a matter of weeks.
I was doubtful, yet today I’m back – and so, I’m pleased to say, are the lashes.
So here is my crucial message:
Do not avoid check-ups, like I did for years, fearing that you might indeed have cancer.
And do not be afraid of chemotherapy. It is NOT a death sentence! On the contrary, it is an extension to healthy life.
Today, Daphne has made a full recovery. She is pictured here with Canadian hockey legend Wayne Gretsky at Mar-a-Lago earlier this year
Daphne with a friend at Mar-a-Lago following her treatment and recovery
While overall cancer death rates are generally decreasing, the incidence of breast cancer is still on the rise, meaning more cases are being diagnosed each year.
It’s linked not only to better diagnostics, but also lifestyle and social factors like being overweight or obese, alcohol, lack of exercise, late menopause and having your first child later in life.
Four months after my last chemo session, I am traveling once again, I’m filming a major TV network special – which you’ll soon be reading all about on Daily Mail.
I am hosting my second cancer charity gala with UCSD hospital, awarding five prominent doctors who saved my life and many others, with top Hollywood and members of the Trump’s top team at the room.
There have even been some small personal benefits to come from it all. My hair is, if anything, thicker than before.
I’ve always maintained a healthy regime and stayed slim, but now I’m back to what I weighed in my 20s. And the weight is staying off because, for whatever reason, my attitude to food has changed. These days I eat only what I need.
I have a new, more generous perspective on the world.
But more important than these things, is the fact I’m still alive – and can expect to be for some time to come.
And for that I can thank the four words from Sarah Ferguson’s messages to me, which so many more of us should take the trouble to remember:
‘Go, get checked NOW.’
For more information on my cancer charity gala in California go to: www.gamechangerevents.org
