Tina F’s story

My name is Tina. I am the wife of my childhood sweetheart, Johnny, a Supervisor with a leading global iron ore producer, and the proud mother of two incredible children, Chloe and Zac.

Professionally, I am the Group Manager of People & Culture at a major Australian mechanical engineering and manufacturing company, a role that I am deeply passionate about. In 2026, I was honoured to be named a finalist in the HR Leader Awards for HR Director of a Large Business, an achievement that reflects my commitment to supporting and empowering people throughout their careers.

Today, life is full, rewarding, and busy, but there was a time when everything I knew was turned upside down.

I never imagined how quickly life could change.

On 1 November 2018, I woke at 4:00am with excruciating abdominal pain. The pain was so intense it caused me to vomit. After an hour of suffering, I went to the Emergency Department, where a CT scan suggested an inflamed appendix. I was given pain relief and sent home.

But something wasn’t right.

For the next month, the pain persisted. I relied heavily on pain medication just to get through each day. By late December, I knew I needed answers. My GP ordered another CT scan, which I had on Christmas Eve morning before heading to work and looking forward to Christmas celebrations with my family.

Just days later, on New Year’s Eve 2018, my world stopped.

I received a phone call asking me to urgently attend my GP’s office. I was away with family at the time, and over the phone I was told there was a strong possibility I had bowel cancer. I was advised to expect a call from a surgeon within 24 hours.

Hearing those words was devastating.

This was not my first cancer diagnosis. It was the second time in six years that I had heard the word ’cancer,’ albeit from an entirely unrelated disease. Yet somehow, hearing it again didn’t make it any easier.

On New Year’s Day, I spoke with a specialist who explained that there was a large tumour in the sigmoid junction of my bowel and that it had already perforated the bowel wall. I needed a colonoscopy urgently to determine the extent of the disease.

When the colonoscopy was performed, the surgeon was unable to pass beyond the tumour because it was so large. I was admitted to hospital immediately. I remember feeling as though everything was happening at lightning speed. While everyone around me discussed scans, procedures, and treatment plans, I was desperately trying to process the reality that I had bowel cancer.

The following days were a whirlwind of fear, uncertainty, and difficult conversations.

One discussion in particular shook me deeply. I was counselled about the possibility of requiring a stoma. Prior to that conversation, I didn’t even know what a stoma was. The thought terrified me. Looking back, it was the only time throughout my entire cancer journey that I felt truly angry. I desperately wanted to maintain some control over a situation that suddenly felt completely beyond my control.

On 10 January 2019, I underwent major surgery. The surgeon removed the tumour, part of my bowel and 27 lymph nodes.

Recovery was challenging, but it was only the beginning.

Six weeks later, in February 2019, I began chemotherapy.

Thirty rounds.

Thirty weeks of showing up, no matter how exhausted, frightened, or unwell I felt.

Anyone who has experienced chemotherapy understands that it tests you in ways you never imagined possible. The physical side effects are difficult enough, but it is often the emotional battle that proves the hardest. There were days when I felt broken. Days when I questioned whether I could keep going. Days when the finish line felt impossibly far away.

Through it all, the care and compassion shown by my family, doctors and my oncologist, carried me forward. They cared for me not only as a patient, but as a person. I will be forever grateful for the role they played in helping me survive the most difficult chapter of my life.

By my 29th round of chemotherapy, my body had simply had enough. I became critically unwell and was admitted to hospital as my body began shutting down. After another two weeks receiving exceptional care, I slowly regained my strength and was finally able to return home.

2026 update:

Today, I continue to have regular surveillance and scans.

Most importantly, I remain NED (No Evidence of Disease).

Those three words are something I will never take for granted.

Cancer changed me forever.

It taught me that life is precious, that ordinary moments are often the ones that matter most, and that strength is not something you’re born with, it’s something you discover when life gives you no other choice.

The years since my diagnosis have been filled with milestones I once feared I might never see. I’ve watched my children continue to grow into remarkable young adults. I’ve advanced in my career, continued to lead people and organisations, and been fortunate enough to receive professional recognition that means so much to me. Most importantly, I’ve had the opportunity to simply live, love and make memories with the people who matter most.

If you are reading this while navigating your own bowel cancer diagnosis, I want you to know that it is okay to be scared. It is okay to feel overwhelmed. Some days will feel impossible.

But please don’t underestimate your ability to keep moving forward.

There is strength inside you that you may not yet recognise.

Accept help when it is offered. Lean on your family, your friends, and your medical team.

Celebrate the small victories, because every one of them matters. Be kind to yourself on the hard days and remember that progress doesn’t always look like giant steps forward. Sometimes, simply getting through the day is enough.

Looking back, I realise that courage isn’t the absence of fear.

Courage is showing up despite the fear.

It is choosing to hope when uncertainty feels overwhelming.

It is trusting that there will be brighter days ahead, even when you can’t quite see them.

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My one piece of advice:

You never truly know how strong you are until being strong is your only option.

And if you’re currently facing bowel cancer, please believe me when I say this:

You are stronger than you think. You are braver than you know. And no matter how difficult today may feel, your story is not over yet.

Keep going. You’ve got this .