Heidi Charles, Bournemouth

I am a 44-year-old wife, mother, carer for my mother and an NHS nurse. I was diagnosed with stage 3 bowel cancer unexpectedly at the end of March 2025. 

My cancer journey started when I attended A&E with severe upper abdominal pain. After having blood tests, my inflammatory makers were sky high, so I was started on IV antibiotics and had a CT scan taken.  

I was advised by the A&E doctor that there was an 8 cm mass seen in my bowel. I was admitted for surgery as they were concerned that I was going to go into obstruction. The doctors later established that the pain was in fact due to blocked biliary ducts.  

I was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer. The tumour had spread to outside my bowel and into my lymph nodes and bloodstream. I had no symptoms of bowel cancer: no bleeding, no pain, nothing. It all came as a big shock.  

My surgery 

I had a right extended hemicolectomy as my cancer was in the middle of the transverse colon. I therefore didn’t need to have a stoma bag. I was advised that I would come in for the surgery on the enhanced recovery pathway and expect to be in hospital for a few days. I was hopeful this would be the case. However, I was very wrong and was very poorly after surgery.    

I had significant complications from my surgery, which meant I had supportive measures put in place like being fitted with a nasogastric tube. I was in hospital for two weeks and it was horrendous for me and all who saw me, if I’m honest! I’ve mentally blanked out the first week. All I can say is that if you do get post op complications, you are in the best hands, and with each day you are a step closer to recovery.  

After the first surgery, I had to go and have the stones in my biliary ducts removed. They removed close to 20 stones, and one was 2cm in diameter! No wonder I was in such pain. I had to have these removed prior to starting chemotherapy. Having this done only a week after being discharged from hospital was needed, but I wasn’t ready for that physically or mentally and struggled afterwards, I felt shellshocked and the chemo was put off for weeks to allow me to be fit enough for it, as I certainly wasn’t at the time.  

Starting chemo 

I then had three months of CAPOX chemo. This was hard! I felt like I was being fried from the inside out and I lost the feeling in my fingers. The number of glasses and other things I dropped in the home was endless! I also kept burning myself and have the scars to prove it, as I would continue to fight it and on bright days cook for my family, but the neuropathy had better ideas even when I was wearing gloves. Touching cold things was like touching fire and lots of pins and needles. When I cried, my eyes burnt. My last chemo nearly did not go ahead as it took about 10 times to get a vein. 

People think that chemo is just an infusion, but chemo for each type of cancer and person can vary. With CAPOX, after my four-hour infusions, I then had to have two weeks of tablet chemo, which made my stomach ache. I had steroids which made me feel bloated but did help the first few days after the infusions. I was lucky I did not vomit with the anti-sickness medications, and although a lot of my hair came out I didn’t lose it fully. After having it cut very short, it is starting to get healthier again.  

The hardest thing still is the exhaustion – after my final chemo, I think I spent most of every day just sleeping. My advice would be to simply not fight it and listen to your body. Sleep is helping you recover.  

Finding perspective 

Telling my story does make me cry. It was an awful experience, but I also cry with tears of joy for recovering and now being back at work on a phased return. I need to celebrate my resilience and strength, but I often do not give myself the pat on the back. Hopefully this being published will and help support others going through a similar journey.  

When you are in it, it is brutal –there is no other word for it – but please do use other people who love and support you. I personally hated people seeing me unwell or to talk about me being unwell, so I often kept myself to myself, but there were times I indeed need the support from my friends, family and loved ones. It may be emotional support, physical support, financial support, visits when in hospital, or transport to appointments and chemo. The main thing is to allow people to support you.  

I have my final scans, bloods and review with oncology in March 2026, and I remain optimistic and always will. This journey has really put life into perspective for me. I was always fairly laid back about the small stuff, but I am now really living in the moment and not worrying about the future. I am focusing on being a good person, surrounding myself with people I know and love (I am forever grateful for their support) and hopefully get some nice holidays booked in, as many were cancelled last year!  

Lots of support 

I had a wonderful professional team which consisted of two cancer nurse specialists at Poole Hospital (they know who they are!) and their wonderful support worker. Although being a nurse myself, I was able to cope and understand a lot of the medical stuff, I still needed them at times, especially during appointments. My family were offered counselling, as I was by the cancer service. I had my own personal counsellor prior to my diagnosis, and she selflessly continued to give me free sessions and support during my treatment, which was one of the kindest things. 

I have many special friends, and my best friends were so good (as they are nurses!) and helped with my personal care while I was an inpatient. I gave myself to them at my lowest point and they were like angels. My other special friends supported me with visits and messages. I didn’t sleep well in hospital, so Netflix became my friend, and I binge-watched TV and chatted away to staff to whom I knew and had worked with in the past, which was nice.  

I also had someone with me when I had my chemo which was wonderful, and I would just like to say again to everyone who supported me and continues to support me: thank you.  

Being back at work, I am lucky I have a job I love, colleagues I adore, and a manager who has been with me through many a journey and has been beyond amazing. I am continuing to be supported by the occupational health team and on phased return. I am enjoying being back to some normality.  

I made myself a folder when I was first diagnosed: a large lever arch file with sections such as appointments, consent forms, Bowel Cancer UK leaflets, results, and so on. This made it easier to be organised and put my hand on something for me or my family. I used the Bowel Cancer UK forum when I was feeling anxious about something and always got a positive reply and words of comfort from them and other people on the forum. 

My parting message 

The first thing I said when I found out about my diagnosis was ‘My poor husband’, as he lost his mother when he was 16 to bowel cancer and she was a similar age to me. My journey for him has been harrowing as it brought up a lot of unresolved grief from his childhood. He couldn’t attend appointments with me after the first two as he found it so distressing, which I understood.  

Cancer not only impacts the person, but the family around them to for many a reason. My daughter who is 12 also struggled as she only lost her grandad a few years before with the big C. Cancer affects us all, and we all need to care for each other through a difficult journey.  

My advice with a young daughter is to be as open and honest as you feel appropriate for their level of understanding – do not hide things from them. They are clever – they know – but equally respond better with open and honest communication.