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It all began with bloating that I just could not get rid of, and I was feeling very full after not eating a great deal. Then I had a bit of a sore chest down one side, which I initially thought was just a chest infection.

I managed to get a telephone appointment with my doctor. At first, they put my stomach issues down to IBS, and I was given antibiotics for a chest infection.

But none of this helped, so I made an in-person appointment with my doctor. It was plain to see that my stomach was swollen –  I looked like I was about to give birth to quadruplets  – and my GP immediately sent me to be assessed at the surgical unit at hospital in Glasgow.

A CT scan showed I had a lot of fluid in my abdomen, tumours on my ovaries and a collapsed lung. At that point I was admitted into hospital as I couldn’t eat or breathe very well.

The medical team also tried to take a biopsy, but fluid that they had gathered from my lungs and abdomen had come back negative. Following two weeks of tests that had come back inconclusive, my team decided to operate, but they were not entirely sure what they were dealing with.

Starting treatment: chemotherapy and multiple operations

The team took away my ovaries, my omentum and a bit of my liver – anywhere where they could see tumours and safely remove them. At this point, the decision was made not to remove my womb as they weren't sure if it was cancer and I didn't have any children.

This was at the end of March 2023. Two weeks later, I was told I had a rare, aggressive ovarian cancer.

My boyfriend Andrew, who is a radiographer, was with me and he managed to hold it together, but I was in a complete mess emotionally. I could not believe this was happening.

Physically though, I was feeling a bit better because they had managed to drain the fluid from my lungs and abdomen a couple of times and it was easier to breathe.

I was referred to an oncologist and it was decided that I should have six rounds of chemotherapy and I would be scanned at the midway point to check that it was working. At the end of this, the plan was to have a second operation: a complete hysterectomy.

More maintenance chemo was also required but then I became very anaemic and it was discovered that I had been bleeding internally. I had scar tissue that had been disguising what was actually going on, so I was struggling a lot and feeling particularly ill.

I had a third operation to remove the tumour that was bleeding, and had a further couple of rounds of chemo to 'mop up'.

Coping with the losses I'd faced

By this point, I'd really reduced the work I was doing as an ecologist because my energy levels, side effects and numerous hospital appointments were all working against me.

I feel I suffered many losses at this stage – many of the things that other people my age were doing and take for granted, but I was just trying to manage them. Not least I’d also had my womb removed – taking away all chances of having children naturally.

That’s where Maggie’s really helped to support me through the day to day of my thoughts and feelings – all the unknowns that were happening to me.

I had also been put into ‘crash menopause’ straight after my first operation because my ovaries had been removed. I didn’t know what was fatigue, hot flushes or treatment side-effects because everything was happening at once. 

For the next year, I had maintenance therapy involving an infusion of Avastin every three weeks, which stops tumours getting a blood supply, and daily Olaparib tablets.

Unfortunately, a scan in November 2025 showed that the cancer had recurred. I started a new type of chemotherapy, Caelyx and Carboplatin, and I had three rounds before a scan revealed that the treatment wasn't working.

I was now deemed platinum resistant, which is when the tumours start growing again, and they were growing around my liver and pelvis. I was told at age 35 that I had very limited options left to me. This was in February 2026, this year.

I was devastated, obviously. I felt like I wasn’t ready to be that person to give up and I did not want to accept that this would be the end of the line for me.

Finding hope

So, I did some research and I found a doctor in London, who is a well-known ovarian cancer consultant. I was very lucky that she agreed to take my case on and operate on me on 18 March this year. I could not have been happier that I was being given another chance.

By the time my consultant operated, I was told that my bowel and bladder were almost at perforation point. She actually worked miracles and cut a section out of my bowel and rebuilt a wall on my bladder. She told me my liver had basically concreted itself in from all of my treatment I’d had, and she examined all my organs thoroughly so that no visible disease could be missed.

Essentially, my surgeon removed all of the cancer that she could – much of it from my pelvic area where I was having a lot of pain. It wasn’t until afterwards that I realised just how much pain I had actually been in. 

 When I came round after my surgery, my consultant came to speak with me and told me that following my operation and looking at my pathology, my cancer was not presenting the way most ovarian cancers would.

It was behaving quite differently and for that reason, she recommended that I was re-diagnosed as having endometrial cancer.

This also meant that I could also be reconsidered for new immunotherapy drug aimed at endometrial cancer.

Through working with my Glasgow oncologist, on the surgeon’s recommendations, I have now been put on immunotherapy medication. I have an IV session every three weeks and a daily tablet, and at my three months check recently, my pelvis appeared clear of disease and the lesions in my liver were stable, which felt like a miracle.

I am still managing side effects and have a reduced appetite and some digestion problems due to the fact a part of my bowel was removed but I am delighted to be given another chance at life and I can’t thank my surgeon enough!

Joining courses, workshops and getting emotional counsel at ҹɫֱ²¥

I found Maggie’s soon after I was diagnosed because a friend of mine had been supported by staff at Maggie’s in Southampton. She recommended that I definitely come along to the centre on the grounds of Gartnavel Hospital in Glasgow.

I would say coming to Maggie’s has been absolutely essential to my mental wellbeing.

I come to the yoga, I have attended a memory and concentration course, and I still have regular appointments with the clinical psychologist at Maggie’s because I find it very difficult to live with the uncertainty of my cancer. 

Maggie’s also helped me to consolidate in my own mind that I would go ahead and contact the specialist consultant in London to see if she could help me. I’m so glad that I did that, otherwise who knows where I would be?

I have also attended another group course at Maggie’s specifically for Living with Uncertainty.

Maggie’s has been essential to keeping me going and I can’t thank them enough. I find it really helps to speak with others in similar situations about these things, because it’s difficult to manage everything I’m feeling on my own and I don’t always want to worry Andrew or bend my family’s ears on everything I am concerned about.

When you sit down at ҹɫֱ²¥, you know everyone around you just 'gets it'.

I have also met a lot of friends through coming to Maggie’s. Laila is another young woman I met at Maggie’s, and we now meet each other outside of Maggie’s with a bunch of friends for ‘crafternoon teas’ – where we craft, crochet and eat lovely food!

We’re here with you

Our cancer support specialists, psychologists and benefits advisors are here for everyone with cancer, and all the people who love them.

• Come and see us at your nearest Maggie’s
• Call us on 0300 123 180 or arrange a callback
• Email us at [email protected]