Alexandra Brilliant, London
I was diagnosed with stage 3 bowel cancer on 17 September 2025, four days after my 28th birthday.
I'm 28 years old, living in London with my fiancé and very close to family. I'm a teacher and absolutely adore my job. I love socialising, going to the theatre and spending time with those closest to me.
Diagnosis
My tumour was found through a colonoscopy on 7 September and I was diagnosed 10 days later where it was confirmed that the tumour was cancerous.
I had experienced some blood in my stool earlier in the year, but it had stopped and initially it had occurred not long after my period had ended. To be honest, the initial thought was that the blood was linked to that.
After a few months, the bleeding returned and I knew that something was not right. I ended up in A&E as I had experienced further bleeding. They didn't run a single test and I was given some tablets and sent on my way. A few weeks later, I still knew that this wasn’t right, so I went back to my GP to push for it further. I was given a stool sample test. Initially, cancer was not even a consideration because I was deemed too young.
On August 15 2025, a year to the day that I was going to get married, I was told that my sample had returned abnormal and that a colonoscopy was the best option. I was asked whether I really wanted it and it did feel a bit that I was being told it wasn’t really necessary. I opted to have the colonoscopy on 7 September and that was when they found my tumour.
10 days later, I was diagnosed with cancer and was told that surgery was the best option. I was shocked, I never thought it would have been cancer. I was too young. Cancer at 28 years old? Surely that couldn’t have been right? I think I was so shocked because the medical staff I spoke to initially were confident that it wasn’t cancer because I was too young.
Treatment
Before I could have my surgery, it was decided that undergoing fertility treatment was absolutely vital. In the very same meeting where I received my diagnosis, I was also told that my fertility was likely to be affected. Processing a cancer diagnosis is overwhelming in itself, and alongside that, being faced with the possibility of not being able to have children was deeply heartbreaking. As a young woman, I had always assumed that having children would be part of my future. It wasn’t something I ever imagined I might struggle with and having that assumption suddenly taken away felt like another profound loss at an already frightening time. Going through egg freezing treatment was emotionally complex, filled with fear, grief, hope and gratitude all at once and it made me acutely aware of how sensitive and painful fertility journeys can be, both for myself and for so many others who face these challenges.
Thanks to the incredible care and compassion of the fertility team at Guy’s, seven eggs were successfully retrieved and frozen. I'm immensely grateful for this opportunity. While it doesn’t erase the uncertainty, it has given me something incredibly precious: hope. Knowing that I may still have the chance to fulfil my dream of becoming a mother one day has brought comfort during an otherwise very difficult chapter of my life.
Due to where my tumour was, the downside of the surgery was that I needed to have a stoma bag for life. I had my operation at St Thomas’ Hospital on 20 October 2025. In that surgery I had the tumour removed, 19 lymph nodes and a blood vessel removed. In that same surgery I also had proctectomy surgery which resulted in my stoma, known affectionately as Sandy. The reason I chose the name Sandy was an influence from my love of musical theatre. In Grease the character Sandy goes through a transformation and I felt the same: life before having Sandy and now viewing my life with Sandy.
From the 19 lymph nodes removed during surgery, only one was found to have had cancer in it, the same with the one blood vessel. These were found to be closest to the tumour. Despite this sounding scary, it was good news, as it meant that the cancer hadn’t spread and that it was still contained.
Eight days later, I returned home ready to adjust to my new normal. On 10 December 2025, I started the first of four chemotherapy sessions. This was very much a belt and braces job to ensure that this cancer never came back. Physically I have found the chemotherapy sessions hard, especially the first week after the infusion. That is where the most side effects are felt, such as nausea and extreme tiredness. The amazing doctors at Guys’ Cancer Centre have helped me cope with the nausea. However, I've been very lucky and from days 8 to 21 I have felt normal. I have found myself able to go back to the gym and partake in activities. Although this process has been hard, it’s been made a lot easier through the phenomenal support I've had from friends, family and my fiancé.
Honestly, I haven't found life with a stoma that challenging. I'm eating and drinking everything I was doing before surgery and I felt that if I just get on with it and my mind doesn’t panic, then my body doesn’t panic, and I forget the stoma is there. However, I know and am aware that I will have hard days, days where I question and feel angry and upset that this has happened to me. I know that this isn’t all roses.
On the 2 January 2026 I was given the call that I had got a clear CT scan. This was the best news that I could have ever received, as it was evident I had no cancer in major organs or muscles. I was told that I still needed to finish the last two chemotherapy treatments to ensure that there was no cancer in my blood.
I'm due to have my final chemotherapy session on the 11 of February and to have an end of treatment CT scan. Despite the positive news from the previous CT scan, I'm still terrified of these results. I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, panicked and expecting my doctor to call me saying they have found 20 more tumours and that this battle isn’t over.
Support
I cannot fault the care that I've received from the nurses and doctors at Guys and St Thomas and I'm so grateful to them for saving my life. My CNS nurses have been outstanding. It feels like they have become part of my extended family and they've been there for me through the highs and lows of treatment. My family has been outstanding, my incredible parents especially my mum has come with me to every appointment and both of my parents researched every possible route and medical avenue when we got my diagnosis, something which I was just not mentally able to do. To my siblings, especially my youngest sister, this has been such a challenging time and it feels like all we spoke about was cancer and what the next steps are, I'm so grateful to her for being so understanding this nightmare is so nearly over. My friends have been phenomenal and I love the fact that so many of them say we will get through this and for constantly checking in. My best friend Yasmeen, who is a doctor herself, very much became my own personal doctor. She was there when I went into surgery and every blood test result I have sent to her, she has given me words of encouragement as well as telling me not to panic. Lots of people have checked in to make sure that I'm okay, including acquaintances that I haven’t spoken to in 10 years.
A special mention has to go out to my incredible fiancé. He has stood by me through every appointment and even when I've felt at my lowest, he has always been there to pick me up. He has told me every day that I'm beautiful and he's so proud of me. This cancer took a lot from us as a couple — the stability and the plans that we had made had really been thrown up in the air. I'm so grateful to him, my family, friends and employer who have stood by me through this very challenging time.
I reached out to Bowel Cancer UK and was fortunate enough to attend an event with them at the Houses of Parliament. I've also taken the time to read stories of others who have been diagnosed with bowel cancer and it’s been very uplifting to read success stories.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I'm so ready for such a positive rest of the year. 2026 is the year that I get married, but it’s also the year where I want to help campaign for young people and for those that are being diagnosed with bowel cancer.
My main message
I was told over and over again that what I had wasn’t cancer, that I was too young. Unfortunately, in my case it was cancer and I really want medical professionals to rethink this approach. I also want to advocate for clear pathways. If a 28-year-old comes into the GP with blood in their stool, they should be given the appropriate tests to ensure that bowel cancer can be ruled out. If bowel cancer has been detected, it can be treated quickly and early.
I view myself as one of the lucky ones, despite being diagnosed with stage 3 bowel cancer. One of the first things I asked every single medical professional was: am I going to die? Is this going to kill me? Every response was no and that this was completely curable. I'm so relieved that I advocated for myself and wasn’t afraid to stamp my foot and say that this needs to be investigated further.
I want to encourage people, especially young people, to not be afraid to advocate for yourself. You know your body better than anyone else, and if you know that something isn’t right, then don’t be afraid to push it. As mentioned above, I also want to advocate for the terminology: it's probably not cancer you are too young needs to be removed.
