Cathy Sadlier Morrison lives in Ballybunion, County Kerry, with her husband David and children, Jonathan (20), Emma (17) and Orlaith (8). This time four years ago, she was diagnosed with chondrosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer. This is her story:

"I'd had a lump in the upper rib cage area for 13 years, but having been told that it was a calcium deposit caused by a broken rib, I just accepted it," says Cathy. "However, after the birth of my third child, Orlaith, it began to grow.

"I ignored the growth for a few years, but my friends were concerned so I had it checked. When the biopsy showed that I had a malignant tumour, I went into hospital to have it removed.

"During the procedure, they also took out four ribs, part of my breast bone and a section of collar bone. I was later warned that my shoulder and arm could collapse following the surgery, but as that hasn't happened -- so far, anyway -- I count myself lucky."

With the surgery behind her, Cathy was sent home to regain her strength for the next part of her treatment: seven weeks of intensive radiography. She knew that the intention was to zap the cells surrounding the site of the tumour to prevent further cancerous cells from forming, and while she understood that it would be a harrowing ordeal, it didn't help when she was told that the procedure would burn her lung.

"I arrived back at the hospital on a March morning in 2004 for my first radiography session," says Cathy. "With me, I had a bag containing my angels and a book. Greeting my consultant, I told him that I was really scared. He reassured me that I had nothing to fear as everything would be alright.

"I totally trusted him, as having removed my tumour he knew better than anyone precisely how I was. However, the fear stayed with me as I went into the room where I was to be treated.

"I instinctively felt that something was wrong and that I shouldn't proceed. I kept visualising myself lying down with an oxygen mask over my face and I was terrified.

"I felt that God was telling me not to go ahead, so I glanced at the empty bed and at the machine beside it, then turned to the radiographer and enquired what would happen if I refused to have the treatment.

"He looked at me and replied, 'If you refuse, then you should go home and enjoy your summer.' So I thanked him, said I wasn't going ahead, and walked away.

"My decision was purely intuitive and had no bearing on the health professionals I'd met since I became ill. In fact, I feel nothing but admiration and gratitude for them, as they treated me with great care all the way through."

Cathy's partner David collected her from the hospital. He told her that while he was terrified for her, he would support her in any choice she made. He then suggested that they stop for a stroll along Ballybunion beach, before going home.

"I had so much on my mind that day," says Cathy. "I knew I had to follow my instinct in declining the radiography, but I felt the weight of that decision when I thought about the impact it might have on my children and my partner.

"David and I were strolling across the sand towards the sea, when completely out of the blue, he asked me to marry him. I couldn't have been more surprised or completely overjoyed. We'd been together for seven years at the time and all I could think of was, 'We're going to get married; I'm not going to die'. So we had a wonderful wedding and we're really happy together."

Despite Cathy's refusal to undergo radiography, her cancer has continued to remain dormant. While she has had bouts of illness and return visits to hospital, all was well until a few weeks ago when she was called in for an X-ray, to confirm the findings of a recent scan which seemed to show that she had something on her lung.

Despite what she was told, Cathy's own feeling was that she was fine, but she prayed for confirmation that this was so. And she got it, as nothing showed up on the X-ray.

"This Christmas will be particularly special for our family," says Cathy. "For the first time in ages I feel so excited to be well, to be here and to be sober.

"It's been 10 years since I touched a drink, and the simple joy of sobriety is something I want to publicly acknowledge. It's been a long journey, but faith and the support of a loving family pulled me through."

- Rita de Brun