"No Time To Be Ill"
Ex-Eternal singer Kéllé Bryan, 30, explains why she refused to listen when
doctors told her she had a potentially fatal illness
I sniffed loudly. I'd had a cold for six weeks and couldn't shake it. I'd been through a stressful couple of years. I'd been sacked from my band, Eternal and had to go through a big legal battle with them. Now I was focusing on my solo career.
Maybe it was all starting to catch up with me. I started feeling achy.
'You're coming down with flu', my mum Marilyn said.
I went to the doctor. 'It's just a post viral infection', he said 'it'll pass. Take some paracetamol'.
But nothing changed. one morning I woke up and I couldn't bend my finger. 'Maybe you slept funny', my boyfriend Renee said.
I went back to the doctor. 'It's all part of the post-viral thing', he said. 'Take some ibuprofen'.
Next, I started to develop mouth ulcers. They began to spread to the outside of my face. I couldn't eat properly and began to lose weight.
This time, the doctor sent me for tests.
My breath smelled terrible. My facial sores were weeping and my arms and legs were stiff.
Renee and Mum had to help me get dressed or go to the toilet.
'I must look disgusting', I said to Renee.
'It's only temporary', he replied.
After a few weeks my whole body seized up. It was like someone had taken a sledgehammer and smashed up all my joints
I lay in bed. I couldn't move and felt like I was slowly suffocating
'What's happening to me?' I asked Renee.
I went back to the doctor. He gave me steroid injections, which allowed me to move on my own again
I had injections every six weeks but the sores began to spread down my arms and legs. Then my body seized up again.
I went to The London Independent Hospital and saw a rheumatologist. He examined me and admitted me straightaway.
I began to worry. Whatever I had was serious.
I had an MRI scan and electric shock tests. Mum stayed with me and Renee visited every day.
Still no-one could tell me what was wrong.
I could barely talk or eat because of the ulcers in my mouth. I grew frustrated.
One day Mum tried to help me get comfortable in bed. 'Just leave me alone, I can do it', I shouted at her.
Then I fell out of bed, landing with a thud. I couldn't get myself up again.
'Are you sure yuo don't want any help?' she asked.
I looked up from the floor and said: 'Yes, please'.
We both started laughing but were both terrified.
The doctors came back to me with some test results. 'We think you've got AIDS', they said. 'You've got all the symptoms of HIV'.
I was stunned. Renee and Mum sat in silence.
'You must have taken drugs', the doctor said.
'I Don't do drugs, I never have' I said furiously.
It couldn't be true. They must have got it wrong.
Renee didn't react at all. I couldn't imagine what was going through his mind.
A few days later, the doctors came back and told me I didn't have AIDS after all.
I was relieved but I still didn't have a clue what was wrong with me.
Two more weeks passed. Then three doctors came and stood by my bed.
'You have lupus', one said. 'Your immune system is producing too many antibodies, which are attacking your body. I'ts affecting your skin, muscles, joints and organs'.
'What can we do?', I asked.
'There's no cure', a doctor said. 'But we should be able to control the symptoms. You'll be on medication for the rest of your life'.
I had more questions.
'So how bad can it get?', I asked.
'In some cased lupus can be fatal. You might end up in a wheelchair and you will not be able to have any children', he said. 'Lupus sufferers usually miscarry'.
I was totally overwhelmed.
The doctor told me I would be put on steroids.
'The side effects include obesity, brittle bones and hair loss', he said. 'Do you have any more questions?'.
'No', I said.
All I could think was: 'I don't have time for this. I've got an album to put out'.
Mum was crying her heart out.
Then I had a strange experience. I felt as light as a feather and the room seemed to grow brigher around me.
'Mum, don't worry, it's going to be alright', I said. 'I hear what they're saying but it's just not for me. I'm going to carry on singing'.
Mum looked shocked. I think she thought it was the medication talking.
I was released from hospital. My muscles were so weak I could harldy move.
Renee and I made a plan. I started eating healthily and exercising. I began by brushing my own teeth and walking to the bathroom. Then I started lifting a can of beans. After a week, I could do five repetitions.
Renee helped me. We'd been together for five years but something was preying on my mind.
'Look', I said. 'I understand if you don't want to be with me. You didn't expect not to have children or to be looking after me'.
'Shut up, leaving you is not an option', he said. 'You're gettting better'.
For months I worked at building my strength up and I joined a gym.
At last I was well enough to work again. I flew to Los Angeles to film a video for my single "Higher Than Heaven". I didn't want anyone there to know about my illness.
Then the day before we were due to start shooting the video I ran a hand through my hair.
I big clump fell out. I did it again and even more came out. My dark hair was soon scattered all over the hotel bathroom.
I grabbed the phone and called Mum.
'My hair's falling out', I said.
'Darling, you knew this was going to happen at some point', she said. 'Call your record company, they'll know what to do'.
The comanpy took me to an alopecia clinic and they made me a weave to cover my bald patch. My secret was safe again.
It was exhausting, but I made the video and my single reached number 14 in the charts.
Back in Britain I had more tests. And the doctors had good news.
There was no lupus activity in my body any more. I came off the steroids altogether. I still had the disease, but no symptoms.
After a few years, Rene and I splut up. We'd gone through so much together and we were such good friends but the relationship part of things had disappeared
Then last year I recieved the best news I could have hoped for. I was visiting some lupus patients to help raise awareness for the St Thomas' Lupus Trust, of which I'm a patron, when a doctor came to me.
'Researchers have found the reason people who suffer from lupus can't carry babies is because they have sticky blood', he said.
I couldn't believe it. After my initial tests I'd been told I didn't have sticky blood.
'Does this mean I can have babies', I asked.
'Yes', he said.
I'd made it as a singer but I could be a mum too. I knew when the doctors told me my fate that it wasn't for me. And I'd been proved right.
Report from Full House Magazine, edited by Debbi Marco