After moving states, I scheduled a cervical screening test (pap smear) with my GP to restart regular health checks. While the test is meant to detect cervical cancer, it unexpectedly revealed abnormal cells which my GP suspected might be endometriosis.
Fortunately, my doctor, wanting to rule out endometriosis, was thorough and sent me for further tests.
An internal ultrasound revealed cysts or tumours on both ovaries, and blood tests showed tumour markers, which could still be consistent with endometriosis. Further testing was ordered, and a CT scan confirmed the presence of tumours.
Just four weeks after my GP visit, I was in hospital, meeting with an oncology gynaecologist and surgeon to discuss surgical intervention. In one appointment the surgeon drove home how lucky I was that my GP was so diligent, saying, “You’re lucky your doctor caught this. Many GPs would have dismissed your pap smear results as an anomaly and not sent you for further tests.” With ovarian cancer, a biopsy can only be done after removing the ovaries, and since both of mine had tumours, they had to go. As an optimist, I hoped for the best, but deep down, I was in denial – cancer didn’t seem like a real possibility.
Most health education focuses on breast cancer, so I hadn’t realised my subtle symptoms: pain after sex, frequent urination, and feeling full too quickly as signs of ovarian cancer.
I assumed they were due to diet changes, as a friend had recommended fasting, and I was also in my early 40s, so I thought it might be related to ageing.
I opted for a radical hysterectomy, including the removal of my uterus, cervix, and ovaries, plus a biopsy of my omentum (a large flat adipose tissue layer that connects and protects abdominal organs). Although early menopause was daunting, losing my uterus was not so daunting as I’d never planned to have children, but my younger partner, Nick, did – and now that possibility was suddenly gone.
During surgery, the biopsy revealed ovarian borderline tumours, a pre-cancerous condition. Post-surgery, my medical team and I assumed that was the end of it, and I was referred to my GP for follow-ups.
An unlikely cancer diagnosis
I returned home feeling relieved and grateful to have avoided the worst. But three weeks after my surgery, a call from the gynaecological oncology team shattered that feeling: they told me I needed chemotherapy.
Further testing revealed low-grade serous ovarian cancer (LGSOC), a rare and difficult-to-treat cancer that disproportionately affects younger women. I was 42. The cancerous cells had spread to my omentum, something my oncologist admitted was unusual.
“In 20 years of treating ovarian cancer I have only seen this situation twice, where borderline tumours have spread cancerous cells to the omentum.” He made a point to reassure me his other patient was doing well 10 years after her treatment.
Determined, I began six months of chemotherapy. A low weekly dose helped manage side effects, and to stay positive, I bought a rundown houseboat, spending four months renovating it with my partner.
The project kept my mind engaged, and using tools helped with neuropathy, the numbness and muscle weakness in my fingers caused by chemo.
A dietitian from Ovarian Cancer Australia helped me adjust my diet. I cut out alcohol, red meat and processed foods. Every supplement and dietary change were approved by my oncology team to ensure nothing interfered with treatment.
Surgical menopause was one of the hardest parts. I struggled with hot flashes and joint pain that left me hobbling in the mornings. Desperate for relief, I tried high-dose turmeric, and within two days, my aches, especially in my elbows, were gone.
Even with excellent medical care, I made sure my voice was heard. When scheduled with a registrar instead of my oncologist, I stood my ground and insisted on seeing my specialist. Equally, despite my doctors’ discouragement and people’s comments like “It’s just hair, it’ll grow back” which felt dismissive, I fought for scalp cooling during chemotherapy and retained 50 per cent of my hair. That’s what I always tell people – advocate for yourself.
During chemotherapy, which was tough, my biggest support came from those around me. Some doubted Nick, saying, “He’s young, he’ll leave because you have cancer”, but he stayed by my side. My friends and siblings were my strength, and my parents, stuck in the UK during my surgery due to lockdowns, finally arrived for my first three months of chemo, making a world of difference.
Struggling to find age-appropriate beauty tips during treatment, I created Fabulous You During Cancer, a makeup, skincare and lifestyle resource for women in their 40s. Most advice was either too clinical or aimed at older women. I wanted something relatable and uplifting – small moments of joy made a difference, and I wanted to share that energy with others.
Lifestyle medicine
After a mental breakdown in my late 30s and a diagnosis of untreated PTSD, therapy gave me invaluable coping tools. These strategies – exercise, staying connected, and recognising when I’m spiralling – became essential in supporting my mental health during cancer treatment. When anxiety creeps in, I remind myself to talk things through, whether with someone I trust or by calming myself. My first thought at any familiar symptom is always, what if it’s back? But I’ve learned to rationalise those fears and focus on staying positive.
During chemo, I met two incredible women my age, both facing breast cancer. Their support has been a game changer. There’s something about being understood without explanation.
Three years post-chemo, there’s currently no evidence of disease, and my oncologists are optimistic. I stay vigilant with regular checkups, now every six months with blood tests and a yearly CT scan. Neither test is foolproof, so if I feel bloated or experience persistent aches, I don’t wait, I see my doctor.
After years as a stressed-out video producer, I now renovate houses with my partner and sister: work I love. Prioritising a low-stress life is essential, especially after learning about a possible link between PTSD and ovarian cancer. Coincidence? Maybe. But I fiercely protect my wellbeing.
Ovarian cancer symptoms are vague and often dismissed. I was lucky my doctor investigated further. That’s why I always tell people: If something feels wrong, don’t ignore it. Yes, recurrence is a risk, but I choose optimism. My oncologists believe my cancer won’t return and if it does, it’s slow-growing and treatable. So instead of living in fear, I focus on health, happiness, and embracing life.
Subtle symptoms of ovarian cancer
For decades, ovarian cancer has remained one of the deadliest cancers affecting women, often called the ‘silent killer’ due to its subtle symptoms that are difficult to detect in the early stages.
Dr. Alicia Didsbury, a scientist at the University of Auckland and trustee for Ovarian Cancer Foundation NZ, states that currently, there are no reliable screening tests for ovarian cancer.
“Ovarian cancer lacks a test that can accurately detect the disease in its early stages, and consequently, screening programs are unlikely in the immediate future,” says Dr. Didsbury. “Because of this, early diagnosis depends on women recognising early warning signs and advocating for themselves, and for primary healthcare providers’ ability to respond to those symptoms.”
Key symptoms of Ovarian Cancer include:
• Bloating
• Quickly feeling full when eating
• Abdominal/pelvic/back pain
• Fatigue
• Changes in bowel habits, such as constipation
• A frequent need to urinate
• Indigestion
• Unexplained weight change
• Painful intercourse
• Menstrual irregularities
“We recommend if women experience any symptoms for four weeks or longer they should see their GP,” says Dr. Didsbury. “However, there has been progress in improving the diagnostic pathway for women who present with symptoms – a promising research area emerging involves a test that can identify cancer DNA, either from a swab or blood sample. These tests are likely to offer higher sensitivity and specificity, which is important when detecting earlier-stage cancers.
“Additionally, worldwide, an exciting new avenue involves artificial intelligence-driven analysis of diagnostic signals, whereby AI is leveraged to interpret complex data patterns, distinguishing cancerous signals from normal biological activity. This technology holds great potential, but it’s still in development.”
Beyond diagnosis, precision medicine is playing an increasingly important role in ovarian cancer treatment.
“By analysing the molecular characteristics of a patient’s tumour, clinicians can tailor treatments to target specific genetic or biological features. For example, women with BRCA1 or BRCA2 mutations may benefit from targeted cancer drugs,” says Dr Didsbury.
Dr Jess Holien, a leading RMIT scientist, is working on developing early detection biomarkers to catch the disease before it’s too late; on identifying new drug targets to improve survival rates; and on understanding how ovarian cancer cells develop resistance to treatment.
In New Zealand, ovarian cancer is the eighth most common cancer, with about 300 new cases annually. The overall five-year survival rate for ovarian cancer in New Zealand is 36 per cent.
In Australia, around 1,815 women are diagnosed with ovarian cancer each year, with approximately 1,000 lives lost annually. The overall five-year survival rate for ovarian cancer is 43 per cent.
“To the patients and specifically the mums, I want to say that we see you, we hear you, and we feel for you. We are walking this journey alongside you and are working tirelessly to improve outcomes for you.”
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