It’s quite fitting that August is Stomach Cancer Awareness Month as I complete my last round of FLOT chemotherapy, the day after my 39th Birthday.

We didn’t know that cancer was going to be woven so tightly into our family history, but my own journey started around Christmas 2025, when I was diagnosed with Hereditary Diffuse Gastric Cancer caused by a mutation in my CDH1 gene.

We only discovered that our family carries the gene after I lost my dad to stomach cancer in 2019 and we made the connection with my aunty, who had passed away from stomach cancer many years earlier.

From there, we worked with Genetic Services to arrange surveillance and testing. It was through this surveillance that we discovered my older sister already had stomach and breast cancer caused by CDH1, as well as a rare appendix cancer.

She underwent a total gastrectomy (TG), where her entire stomach was removed, along with a mastectomy and peritonectomy to remove the cancer that had spread from her appendix cancer.

My twin sister and cousin, who also carry the gene, had their stomachs removed around the same time as me to reduce their risk of developing cancer and my Niece has her surgery early August. So far, 6 out of 8 of my family who have been tested, carry the gene mutation.

Adjusting to what chemotherapy visibly does to your body takes resilience and a sense of humour. I went from looking like Erin, to looking like Sinéad O’Connor, to looking like Danny DeVito, and now I resemble Uncle Fester from The Addams Family.

I’m thankful for stick-on eyebrows and a good wig to carry me through the days when I want to feel more feminine. My body rivals a hairless chinchilla and somehow keeps up with the fashion trend of barely-there lashes and eyebrows.

Chemo strips you down, inside and out.

On the good days, you’ll find me at the gym because it keeps me fighting fit and helps me feel more normal. On the bad days, I can’t leave the couch, and I’m discovering my new normal of trying to vomit without a stomach.

I call it ghost vomiting - or mime vomiting - because nothing seems to come up, but I still go through all the sounds and motions.

Some days, life distracts you from the side effects of chemo. Other days, the side effects distract you from life.

Having two young kids can be a wonderful distraction, but some days it can also be tough trying to show up for them.

You pick yourself up, stick some eyebrows on, and carry on.

I don’t like to play the “why me?” card. I prefer to say, “Why not me?”

As no one asks to get cancer or to have genetics that work against them. No one asks to lose loved ones or to have to fight to stay alive.

I am lucky in so many ways, and I have so much to be thankful for. It's also very comforting knowing the Gut Cancer Foundation is here to walk alongside my family and support us on our journey.