Kirsty Gallacher lost hearing to silent tumour after mistaking symptoms for a cold

On 15 March 2023, at 6:45 AM GMT, former Sky Sports presenter Kirsty Elizabeth Gallacher woke up to complete silence in her right ear. No alarm clock. No birdsong. Just empty stillness. What she thought was a stubborn cold had, in fact, been a 1.8-centimetre acoustic neuroma — a benign but relentless tumour — silently crushing her auditory nerve for over a month. By the time she reached Charing Cross Hospital in London, it was too late to save her hearing. The twist? She’d ignored symptoms for 34 days, convinced it was just allergies after filming I’m a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! in Wales.

"I Thought It Was Just a Cold"

Gallacher, 47, had been working through February 2023 with persistent nasal congestion and a dull pressure behind her right ear. She blamed seasonal pollen, a long flight, maybe the humidity of Gwrych Castle. No one told her these were classic red flags for vestibular schwannoma — the medical term for acoustic neuroma. She kept hosting, kept smiling, kept filming. It wasn’t until she woke up that morning that the truth crashed in: she couldn’t hear at all on one side.

"I thought it was just a stubborn cold after the jungle," she later told The Sun in January 2024. "I had no idea a tumour was silently destroying my hearing. By the time I woke up deaf, it was too late to save that ear."

The Diagnosis: A Tumour That Didn’t Care About Her Schedule

Within 24 hours of arriving at Charing Cross Hospital, consultant ENT surgeon Mr. Simon Freeman ordered an MRI. His findings were clear: a 1.8cm tumour on the eighth cranial nerve, pressing so hard it had already severed nerve signals. Freeman, who’s treated over 500 such cases since 2005, said Gallacher’s delay was tragically common. "Early intervention within the first two weeks could have preserved some hearing," he noted. "By day 34, the damage was irreversible."

She underwent Gamma Knife radiosurgery on 28 March 2023 at the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery in Queen Square, London. The £15,200 procedure — covered by her private insurance through AXA PPP Healthcare — stopped the tumour’s growth. But it couldn’t restore what was lost. By June 2023, scans confirmed the tumour was stable. Her hearing? Still gone.

Why This Isn’t Just Her Story

Gallacher’s case didn’t happen in a vacuum. The British Acoustic Neuroma Association (BANA), a Bristol-based charity, reports that 68% of UK patients wait more than four weeks for diagnosis — often because symptoms mimic ear infections, sinusitis, or even stress. Their 2023 data showed 750 new acoustic neuroma cases in Britain alone. And in 82% of those, permanent hearing loss had already occurred by the time treatment began.

Professor Andrew King of University Hospital Southampton NHS Foundation Trust compared the UK’s average 14.3-week diagnostic delay to Germany’s 8.7 weeks. "Faster MRI access saves hearing," he said. "It’s not just about survival — it’s about quality of life."

This delay isn’t accidental. It’s baked into the system. NHS England’s 2022-2023 waiting list crisis — with 7.6 million people awaiting treatment — meant even urgent cases like Gallacher’s could slip through cracks. Her experience became a catalyst. In September 2023, Imperial College Healthcare NHS Trust — which runs Charing Cross — updated its protocol: any patient reporting sudden unilateral hearing loss must get an MRI within 14 days. Gallacher’s case was cited in the official NHS "Rapid Diagnostic Pathways" review.

From Silence to Advocacy

Gallacher returned to TV in April 2024 as a guest on Good Morning Britain, but her voice now carries a different weight. She’s not just a presenter anymore — she’s an ambassador for BANA. She speaks to GPs, schools, even radio stations, urging people: "If you lose hearing in one ear — even if it’s just a bit — don’t wait. Don’t assume it’s an ear infection. Get scanned."

Her medical team still monitors her with six-monthly MRIs at Charing Cross Hospital. The next one? 15 December 2025 at 2:30 PM GMT. The tumour remains stable. But the lesson? It’s permanent.

"I got lucky," she says. "The tumour didn’t spread. I didn’t lose balance or facial movement. But I lost a part of my world — the sound of my daughter laughing on one side, the echo of my own voice, the way music used to feel full. I wish someone had told me sooner."