15-07-2025
The cancer patients choosing natural remedies over treatment
When Surinder Paul, 48, was diagnosed with invasive carcinoma of the breast in 2012, she was unequivocal: she was going to live. Not because of the 'barbaric' mastectomy proposed by her consultant, or chemotherapy. But via treatments that she was convinced could 'naturally' cure her grade-two disease.
'I feel inside my heart and soul, I am completely, 100 per cent clear that this is the right path for me,' she says in The Cancer Conflict, a documentary currently on Netflix. It charts her cancer battle over the course of seven brutal years.
Paul, a former social worker and physical therapist, had always eschewed Western medicine, refusing even painkillers for 30 years prior to her diagnosis. Her ethos was shared by many within her family. They had known a number of people with cancer who undertook chemotherapy and died, her niece, Jasmine Paul, says, leaving the rest of them feeling 'hope' that alternative methods might be the answer this time.
Paul was glamorous and filled with energy at times, dancing with her beloved nieces and nephews at family parties, and going speed-dating. Mainly, she was forensic in her approach to her health and diet, from taking over 200 supplements a week and spending hours researching hemp oils and carrot juicing, to avoiding foods that had touched tins or microwaves.
Paul is far from alone in her unconventional attitude towards cancer treatment. Patients, many of whom are professionals, educated and informed, pursue them, swayed by convincing posts on social media in an age where misinformation is rife, and convincing, with often, tragic results. As a Journal of the National Cancer Institute paper reveals, those who opted for alternative treatment were more than twice as likely to die from the disease, while according to Cancer Research UK, 'there is no evidence that [alternative methods] can prevent or treat cancer'.
The pervasive influence of misinformation
At the American Society for Clinical Oncology general meeting last month – the world's largest cancer conference – doctors warned that patients were falling victim to bad actors who 'deliberately push unproven treatments or ideas'. They said the cancer field was increasingly 'losing the battle'. A 2022 analysis of posts about cancer found that almost a third shared contained misinformation, with these articles receiving 'significantly more engagement from online readers than factual ones'.
And although healthy eating and exercise are recommended in conjunction with cancer care, oncologists warn that there is a rising tide of patients choosing this over proven kinds of treatment entirely, with fatal consequences. In The Cancer Conflict, it is said that 50 to 90 per cent of all patients turn to alternative treatments at some stage.
In an extreme, tragic case last month, a BBC Panorama documentary told the story of 23-year-old Paloma Shemirani, a Cambridge graduate diagnosed with non-Hodgkin lymphoma in 2023. Doctors assured her that she had an 80 per cent chance of survival with chemotherapy, but she refused – something her brothers allege is down to their mother, Kate, a known Covid-19 denier and former nurse with a significant online presence, who sells apricot kernels on her website for their 'potential health benefits'.
Shemirani opted for Gerson therapy, which involves a strict plant-based diet and coffee enemas. She died the following year. (Her parents told the BBC that they have evidence 'Paloma died as a result of medical interventions given without confirmed diagnosis or lawful consent', though documents to support this were not disclosed.) In a statement from the June 26, Shemirani's parents said: 'Paloma was never 'coerced'. She was never 'radicalised'. She was a woman of conviction and clarity.' An inquest into her death is due to begin this month.
The dangerous impact of bogus theories
Liz O'Riordan, a former breast cancer surgeon who has faced the disease herself three times, says that in recent years, bogus theories have 'grown and grown and grown on social media, podcasts and TikTok. There are people with millions of followers talking about detoxing and bicarb and methylene blue and ivermectin.' None of these have been found to improve the outlook of the disease – yet posts extolling their virtues are 'everywhere you look'.
During her time as a surgeon, O'Riordan was confronted with patients who would tell her they were going on a juicing retreat, rather than undergoing mastectomies, chemotherapy or radiation as advised. 'These patients were adamant that they were going to be cured.'
O'Riordan says that while from a clinical perspective, 'it was really hard to understand why they would turn down evidence-based medicine', as a patient, she understands that 'you're vulnerable, you're scared, you are desperate for control, you want a cure.'. While exotically-located clinics promising the Earth are incredibly tempting for those in the throes of disease, 'they don't work and people do die'.
The 'natural' cures that have become mainstream
These alternative ideas are not just flourishing within the fringes of social media either, O'Riordan says such routes are often followed by 'educated women with money'. (A 2010 study from Annals of Oncology found that 'patients in the homeopathy cohort are younger, better educated and more often employed than patients in the conventional care cohort'.)
O'Riordan receives up to 20 messages per day, often from such patients, saying ''My oncologist said it's safe to use deodorant, but I saw a TikTok video saying that it could cause cancer, so what do you think?' People asking if they should start detox protocols; people asking if they need to throw their makeup away because of parabens, should they go on juicing diets. And it's just terrifying.'
Between Covid triggering distrust in mainstream medicine and convincing-looking 'testimonials' online – shared by many who peddle fear for profit, as they sell unregulated supplements and consultations – the NHS cannot compete.
'It's really hard because what we're saying is not sexy. It's not exciting. We don't have millions of followers,' O'Riordan explains. 'It takes an awful lot of time and energy and hard work to make the videos, to grow the profile, to get that content, to get it out there into the public voice.'
What cancer patients are asking for now
The feedback loop of social media is increasingly difficult to overcome, says Hannah Furness, an oncology and palliative care physiotherapist, who says that she has grappled with patients doubting conventional treatment because of things they've seen online.
Clients have come to her asking about alkaline diets and avoiding exercise during chemotherapy 'when the research tells us that staying physically active during treatment helps to achieve the best possible outcomes and minimise side effects'. Others have enquired about avoiding massage, 'due to the risk of spreading cancer around the body'.
Furness sees it as 'unfair that misinformation prevents people from accessing care and treatments they may benefit from; especially when the 'alternative' way to manage these symptoms involves taking more pills'.
She is conscious too that today's technology means those with a foot in the rabbit hole are more likely to fall down it completely. ' Algorithms are the scary thing now as well, where it's not just Googling something and choosing what you click on – you're actually being fed it. When you click on one thing, it's going to feed you more of the same type of content. And sometimes when you see the same thing repeated over and over, you start to think, 'I've read that in five different places, so that must be true.''
At a follow-up meeting, several years into her disease, Paul's niece, Jasmine, remembers the surgeon telling her aunt, 'Whatever you're doing is working in your favour. Keep doing it.' But around five years after her diagnosis, the cancer spread to her arm via lymphoedema. 'It was really painful for her, but also really hard for us to see and cope with,' remembers Jasmine. Yet 'right up until the very end, she was fighting… our conversations were never: 'I'm going [to die]'. It was always: 'I'm going to get through this.''Paul passed away in 2020, aged 56.
Jasmine's mother, who was also very close to Paul, has admitted that, 'there were times when I felt that having conventional treatment could have saved her life… it was quite challenging to support her journey at times as I believed there was not enough conclusive evidence to back up all the claims made by alternative therapies and medicine.' Still, no one suggested that she change tack. 'We all respected her wishes and tried to support her.'
O'Riordan adds that while many more seem to be considering switching from conventional to alternative treatment, this rarely swings back the other way. Some patients' relatives have got in touch at a point 'when alternative treatments didn't work and they changed their mind, but it was too late'. Their main regret, she says, was 'trusting the people who promised they could cure them'.
