Bowel Cancer Awareness Month: Former News reporter Elise Sargent shares her experience of the shattering illness

Former News reporter Elise Sargent is one of them. Today she is sharing her story of living with stage 4 cancer for Bowel Cancer Awareness Month:

Have you ever had one of those moments in life that seem so surreal, it’s almost as if you’re in a scene from a film?

Mine happened earlier this year. I can picture myself sitting on the edge of a bed in the A&E department of Queen Alexandra Hospital, Cosham, with doctors and nurses around me, anxiously waiting for my parents. Whatever it is they have to tell me, they don’t want me to be alone to hear it. It’s 1am on January 27th and as mum and dad enter the room there is a look of terror etched on their faces that I will never forget.

Now that we are all together, the doctors explain what they have found on the CT scan. The reason I’ve been in so much pain over the past three days is the huge tumour that is completely blocking my bowel. The scan has also revealed a lesion in my liver. I’m not sure why there are so many medics in the room, perhaps some are students, but I remember them all saying variations of: “We’re so sorry, we know that’s not what you expected to hear.”

And, bizarrely, all I can say in response is: “Don’t worry, it’s fine!” over and over again.

Life quickly became a whirl of emergencies – an operation to fit a stent inside the tumour to allow me to go to the loo, CT and PET scans, MRIs and biopsies.

For around two weeks afterwards I was in shock. I couldn’t really see what all the fuss was about. Yes, I had a couple of tumours, but I was only 44 and healthy so they’d be zapped with chemo and I’d have some surgery.

I honestly thought it’d be done and dusted by Chelsea Flower Show at the end of May and I’d be sipping Pimms in the sunshine with my colleagues from the gardening magazine I write for. It was just a blip.

But a very bleak picture soon began to emerge. My blood stream had escorted the cancer to my liver, all the way up to my left lung and dropped nodules in my stomach lining along the way.

But how on earth did it get this far without me even noticing? I’m young, I rarely drink and I don’t smoke, I am active. There’s no history of cancer in my family. I’d had a really stressful year in the lead-up but doesn’t everyone, every now and then?

‘The silent killer’

That is why bowel cancer is called the silent killer. It creeps up on you insidiously and its victims are getting younger and younger. It’s no longer the disease of old men. One in 17 men and one in 20 women will be diagnosed with bowel cancer during their lifetime. More than 2,600 new cases are diagnosed in people under the age of 50 every year.

I spent 2024 getting fit to swim the Serpentine Lake in Hyde Park in aid of the Marine Conservation Society. I was in the best shape of my life. Occasionally I had blood in my poo and some days I was so tired I had to sleep through my lunch hour but, as so many women do, I put it down to hormones and did more exercise.

The day of the swim was absolutely exhilarating. Plunging into the freezing lake, I shivered but it was thrilling. My sister, Nicole Pharoah, cheered me on from the shore and when I came out I was exhausted but had never felt so alive.

So I have to remind myself that, even on that sunny September day last year, inside some pretty vital organs there were corrupt cells fizzing and sparking and creating new corrupt cells that were twisting and contorting into tumours that were growing to the point where, suddenly, while excitedly getting ready for a weekend away four months later, I was doubled up in agony and ended up in A&E.

The late Dame Deborah James did such an amazing job in highlighting the symptoms with her #BowelBabe campaign but I ignored them. I honestly can’t believe I was so careless but life got in the way and I can’t beat myself up about it.

It took two months to work out exactly what type of cancer I had and until that was figured out, I could not start treatment. The wait has been agonising. The biopsies kept throwing up false negatives so I’d get my hopes up that this was all just a big mistake, only to have them crushed. I now have a treatment plan that starts later this month. I have to admit that I’m pretty scared of chemotherapy but a very wise man called Steve Clark who founded the charity Strive for Five, encourages people to treat chemo as a friend, so that’s what I intend to do. I desperately don’t want to lose my hair but if it’s a choice between saving my life and going bald, I’ll just wear a wig.

Staying positive

I know in these circumstances people want to know the prognosis – how long you have left – but I have asked my oncologist not to tell me. It’s the dreaded Stage 4, but, as far as I’m concerned, I’m being treated in the hope that one day the tumours will shrink enough to be removed. It may not be curable now but it might be in the future with advances in medicine.

Even now, I feel so normal that I wake up each day, and, for just a few seconds, I don’t think about it. When I remember, it’s as if all the air has suddenly been sucked out of the room.

But I have no intention of letting it beat me. Despite it being a terrible situation, I have laughed so much over the past few months. I’m lucky enough to have the most amazing family and friends who lift me up and wrap me up, and have taken over when my addled brain can’t focus on dealing with doctors or the relentless admin that comes with having Stage 4 cancer and ‘getting your house in order’. They are there when I just need someone to stay with me through the night.

I have a long list of chemo buddies on a rota who will look after me after each treatment. Even the Australian contingent – my brother, sister-in-law and best friend – will fly over in shifts to be with me. My wonderful neighbours in Rowlands Castle have been so kind. One leaves a new arrangement of flowers on my doorstep every week which lifts my heart. Having cancer is pretty awful, but I feel deeply blessed.

I have so many plans for the future and I don’t intend to drop them. My sister is my best friend so it’s absolutely inconceivable that I could leave her behind when we’ve already vowed to grow old disgracefully together. I have to at least see my nieces and nephew finish school, which is a good 10 years away yet.

Yes, the odds are stacked against me but I have too much to live for to let it take me now. At first I felt very embarrassed and almost ashamed that this has happened, but now I’m evangelical about telling people – check your poo! If you’re tired, have a blood test! If your tummy hurts, see a doctor!

Because if this can happen to me, it can happen to anyone. There are days when I feel like I don’t want to get out of bed but I never give in to those thoughts, where would it get me? I can’t let the people I love down, we have so much joy-filled life to look forward to together, and, as the spring sunshine streams through my bedroom window each morning, I intend to live it.

Bowel Cancer – the signs

Evidence shows that bowel cancer among the under 50s is increasing fast. Dr Lisa Wilde, Director of Research, Policy and Influencing, Bowel Cancer UK: ‘This study adds to the growing body of evidence that bowel cancer is increasing in younger people globally, and points to a sharp rise of cases within England in particular.

‘We don’t know the exact reasons why, but scientists believe genetics, and lifestyle factors (including diet and physical activity) may be playing a part. It’s essential that we see more research investment in this area.

‘Whatever your age, it’s important that you contact your GP and ask for an at-home test if you spot any symptoms such as bleeding from your bottom, blood in your poo, or a change in your pooing habits. Bowel cancer is treatable and curable especially if diagnosed early.’

Key Symptoms of Bowel Cancer:

• Bleeding from your bottom.
• Blood in your poo.
• A change in your toilet habits. You might be going more or less often, or have diarrhoea or constipation that might come and go.
• Losing weight but you’re not sure why.
• Feeling very tired all the time but you’re not sure why.
• A pain or lump in your tummy.