Mellisa's Story

I Was Sure Cancer Wasn’t Going to Be My Story

I had just turned 50. COVID had already disrupted everything, and I remember thinking, “Come on life, what else can you throw at me?” Then I found a lump.

It was a Tuesday morning. Life was busy, and I almost didn’t go to the GP the next day. But I did – and by midday, I’d had a mammogram, ultrasound, and four core biopsies. Still, I was convinced: “Cancer won’t be my story.”

Three days later, sitting with my husband and GP, I heard the words that changed everything: “I’m so sorry, you have breast cancer.” Our world turned upside down. I couldn’t even say the words without breaking down.

Within four days, I met my surgeon and we made a plan: a port implant, 20 weeks of chemo, bilateral breast surgery and reconstruction, 20 rounds of radiation, and years of hormone and immunotherapy ahead. I left my job to focus on getting well.

Chemo was tough. Losing my hair hit me harder than I expected. The year aged me, and I’m still dealing with the after-effects. My husband, daughter, family, and friends were my rock – watching me struggle, unable to fix it, but never leaving my side. I couldn’t have done it without them.

Now, a year and a half later, I’m back at work. I have hair again – thick, curly, wild chemo hair – and I’m about to go in for my first annual check-up. I’m quietly confident: I’ve won this fight.

I’ve also taken part in two medical studies through Northern Beaches Hospital, because if my experience can help someone else, I’ll give whatever I can.