THE DAY I FOUND OUT I HAD CANCER

Sometimes the hardest news becomes the beginning of a story God is still writing.

This happened during one of the most difficult seasons of my life.

We had lost my dad the year before. He’d been struggling for a long time and passed away in October. If I'm being honest, there had already been signs that something wasn't quite right with my health. I was having occasional stomach issues and some slight bleeding, but everything was explained away as something I'd eaten or a popped blood vessel.

A couple of months after Dad passed away, I decided to see a specialist because I knew something wasn't right.

I’d started noticing a clear discharge that didn't seem suspicious in itself, but it was unusual for me. I knew my body, and I knew this wasn't normal. I was due to travel to the United States to visit family and didn't want to go with this hanging over me.

I saw a gynaecologist who examined me and said the words nobody wants to hear.

"I think this could be something serious."

I asked what she meant.

"Cancer?"

She told me it was either Crohn's disease or cancer. They had seen a similar case before and initially thought it was Crohn's, but it had turned out to be cancer.

I wasn't prepared for that. I'm not sure anyone ever is.

I explained that Dad had only recently passed away and that my sister and I were about to leave for a long-awaited trip to the US. I told her I really needed that trip.

She agreed to take a couple of biopsies and rush them through. If they came back clear, she didn't think further scans would happen until after Christmas anyway.

The preliminary biopsy results showed nothing concerning.

So we went on our trip.

Beignets in NOLA with my absolute favourite person on this earth, my sister 🤍

And we had the best time.

But when I came home, I dreaded the scans.

Somehow, deep down, I knew everything wasn't going to be okay. I can't really explain it. I just knew my body.

I prayed constantly that everything would be fine.

After my scans, I received a call asking me to come in and see a colorectal specialist.

Before the appointment, I was incredibly nervous. I kept thinking, "What if it is cancer?"

I met with colorectal surgeon Dr Jon Barnard and cancer nurse Nicole Falkner.

Looking back, I can see God's hand even in the people He placed around me.

Jon was direct, which was exactly what I needed. I didn't want anyone trying to soften the situation or tell me what they thought I wanted to hear. I wanted honesty. I wanted facts. I wanted to know exactly what I was facing.

So, when Jon explained that he was 99% sure I had rectal cancer and that it appeared to be advanced, I appreciated his straightforwardness. It wasn't easy to hear, but it was what I needed.

Then he gave me what felt like the only good news that day.

It hadn't spread.

To me, that was everything.

The next step would be a biopsy of the mass and a PET scan to confirm no spread.

I was told I would need treatment because the surgery would be major, and if they could avoid it, they wanted to. The plan was six weeks of daily radiation alongside chemotherapy tablets. After treatment, there would be a waiting period to see how much the cancer responded.

There was only about a 50% chance the treatment would work well enough to avoid surgery. If it didn't, surgery would be necessary. 

A surgery that could involve removing my rectum, uterus, and possibly my bladder because of where the cancer was growing.

It was a lot to take in.

Nicole was incredible, and she still is. I honestly can't imagine going through this journey without her. She was always there for phone calls, emails, questions, and reassurance whenever I needed it.

A short time later, the biopsy confirmed what was suspected.

It was cancer.

A visit to the rose gardens before my PET scan — finding beauty even in the middle of uncertainty

But my PET scan showed no spread.

That's when I knew God was all over this.

I still had treatment ahead of me. I still didn't know what the outcome would be. I was scared, uncertain, and facing something I never imagined I would have to face.

But I also knew this: God was with me.

One of the things I realised early on was that I couldn't control my diagnosis, but I could control how I responded to it.

I could spend all my energy asking, "Why me?" or I could focus on taking one day at a time and dealing with what was in front of me.

For me, faith made all the difference. It didn't remove the fear, but it gave me somewhere to take it. Whenever my mind wandered into worst-case scenarios, I would try to bring it back and focus on what I knew.

I knew God was with me.

I knew I had an incredible family around me. My mum and Aaron, my sister, my beautiful aunts, uncles, cousins, my church family, friends, workmates, and so many people praying for me.

I knew I wasn't alone.

And I knew that whatever lay ahead, God would walk through it with me.

That didn't mean I wasn't afraid.

I was.

But whenever my mind wandered into fear and worst-case scenarios, I tried to pull myself back.

Focus on what you know.

Pray about it.

And whatever you do, don't Google.

There are survival rates, statistics, and endless stories online. But this was my journey, and I didn't want fear to write a story that hadn't happened yet.

If you're reading this and don't know God, or maybe you've never experienced Him personally, can I encourage you to read Psalm 91?

It's a Psalm that became incredibly important to me during some of the darkest seasons of my life. Through those words, God met me, comforted me, and reminded me that I wasn't alone.

And my prayer is that as you read it, you would come to know that same comfort, peace, and presence for yourself. 🤍


❦

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