Being diagnosed with bowel cancer in my mid-30s forced me to cross the thin line between good health and illness we often remain ignorant of until we’re much older
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The pain radiated from a spot just to the right of my belly button, so precisely I could have drawn an X on my skin.
It was a Monday evening in early July 2021, and I was lying on the couch next to my boyfriend, Mick, watching Four Corners. It had been a typical lockdown day – working from the kitchen table, a stroll with a mate past the shuttered bars we used to frequent. And then it wasn’t. The pain was soon joined by a swiftly rising tide of nausea.