Content note: Elise has generously shared a candid account of her lived experience to help others feel seen. Her story includes loss, grief, stress and scanxiety, and may bring up strong emotions for some. Please read with care, or revisit when ready. ICA support is here when you need it.
“Cancer has been in my family since I was six. And for a good part of my life, I lived as though I might not reach 38.”
Cancer became part of Elise’s family story early. When Elise was six, her aunt was diagnosed with advanced breast cancer. Because of that, her mum, then in her mid-thirties and without symptoms, pushed for screening. It wasn’t routine at the time, but it found a fast-growing cancer.
Doctors told both sisters to prepare their families for the possibility they might not survive.
A childhood rearranged by cancer
Elise remembers the fear in the house and the unmissable signs of treatment. “I was six when both of them got their cancer diagnosis. Since then, I saw my mum lose her hair. I remember the tubes and bottles coming out of her body. I heard her vomiting. This was when I thought my mum could die.”
Five years later, her aunt passed away. The idea that 38 might be an endpoint began to take root.
Her mum received care at Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre, including a place on a new clinical trial. Treatment was gruelling. Home life quietly reorganised around cancer and, in many ways, became more health-aware.
“We made small lifestyle changes, like adding a water filter, switching to a natural deodorant, drinking green tea, and eating more curry, ginger, fruit and vegetables. Someone suggested stress might be one contributing factor among many, so when Mum returned to work, she moved from a full-time teaching role to part-time to keep her stress down.
“As a kid, seeing those changes at home, I took that to mean stress was something to avoid, something dangerous. From a young age a fear brewed in the back of my mind. I tend to quit things because stress signals danger to me. That kind of avoidance affected my relationship with food for a while, and I’m still working through it.”
Defining genetic test result at 25
At 25, Elise learned she has a BRCA2 gene variant. Her cousin, whose mum had passed away from cancer, had been proactive and tested at 28, then urged Elise to do the same. The result felt like a line in the sand. “At six I learned my mum could die from cancer. At 25 I learned I could too.” The thought of dying at 38 returned, sharper.
“Learning I had BRCA2 was pivotal. It sped everything up. I prioritised starting a family and breastfeeding my children before thinking about risk-reducing surgery.” She was told she would enter a high-risk screening program at 30 and would be contacted. After a house move, the referral was lost. “My mind was set on starting a family. I’d heard I couldn’t get all the screening while pregnant and breastfeeding, so I put it aside.”
At 35, a completely unrelated doctor’s appointment brought everything back into focus. “I mentioned BRCA2 in passing. My GP started freaking out when she realised I’d fallen off the high-risk program. She moved quickly and found me a breast clinic.”
Scanxiety and the childhood parallel
Re-entering high-risk screening was confronting. “They called me back three times to insist I come back for a follow-up ultrasound. It was terrifying. They found a strange node, and later it turned out to be nothing. But the waiting felt awful, especially when I had a five-year-old and an eight-year-old at the time.”
The call-backs brought back the day she first heard the word cancer at six. “Mum and Dad called me in and said, ‘We just want to let you know your mum’s got cancer.’ I didn’t really understand it, only that it was big.” Over time the meaning filled in, and she experienced everything up close, the treatment, the changes in her household, and the quiet and the loud worry coming in waves in her mind.
Waiting for follow-up scans as an adult placed her on the other side of that moment. “My girls are now around the age I was then. That parallel made the what-ifs louder, and so much scarier.” The hardest thought is that they could ever face what she faced, and that is what makes the waiting heavier now.
Making informed decisions about risk and family
For Elise, the BRCA2 result shaped family planning early. “Knowing I have the BRCA2 gene variant at 25 is exactly why I wanted to have babies in my twenties. My whole life was about getting to this family planning early because of my cancer risk.”
She has seen the weight of risk-reduction decisions up close. “My cousin and my mum have had mastectomy and oophorectomy. These are major surgeries, and they can have long-term impacts like medically induced menopause.” The ovarian side is especially hard. “I really hope science could come up with ways to screen the ovaries. It’s a silent killer. Having to weigh and carry this cancer risk and live the life I want is really taxing and stressful.”
Getting back into high-risk screening brought some peace of mind and space to think. For now, Elise is staying engaged with screening while considering when, and what kind of risk-reduction surgery best suits her health, plans and family’s needs. “It’s not a simple decision. I’m taking it step by step.”
Support that steadied the ground
Elise speaks with warmth about the support around her. “Supportive could be my husband’s middle name. He follows my emotional state. If I say, ‘This is really serious, we need to do something,’ he matches my energy and says, ‘Yes, let’s do something.’”
A supportive work environment made a real difference too. “About ten years ago my workplace hosted a talk by Inherited Cancers Australia, so when I told them about my risk they understood straight away. I had to take a lot of time off for appointments and blood tests. They were very supportive and understanding.”
She also found meaning in her mindset coaching practice, started four years ago. “When I’m at work, I’m helping clients overcome fears. Watching them do that has helped me overcome my own. I’ve made it a discipline to surrender and let go of control. The desire to control created the stress. It’s our attachment to outcomes that creates stress. I’m practising letting go.”
Choosing how to live
Elise describes the idea that every day is a gift as more than a saying. It is a discipline she built from living with cancer in her family since childhood. “I’ve faced my fear of death head on. Treating each day as a gift helps me weed through the fear.”
Her mum holds the same view now. “Mum loves getting old. Every year is a blessing. Back then, she didn’t think she’d make it. All she wanted was to be there for us, so every year feels like a bonus.”
What Elise wants others to know is practical. “Find out your risk as young as you can. Learn your options early so you can plan life and family.”
Opening the family conversation
Now, with the perspectives of both daughter and mother, Elise is more thoughtful about how and when to be transparent in family conversations about inherited cancer.
“It’s been my plan to talk to my daughters about BRCA2 when they turn 18. Cancer hasn’t been part of their lives yet, so there hasn’t been an urgent need.
“When this photoshoot and the chance to share my story came up, my eldest wanted to join me, so I briefly explained what it was about and what this charity does. She’s a very switched-on, enquiring girl, but she hasn’t asked any more questions. I don’t think it’s weighing on her yet, so I’ll leave it for now. If she has questions later, I’ll answer them.
“Over time I’ve come to understand why my mum, trying to protect me, wanted to shield me from loss and grief. I feel that instinct as a mother too. But from my own experience, the most protective thing isn’t a perfect diet or a stress-free life. It’s connection. Open, honest conversations. Enough transparency to dissolve isolation. So when the time is right and my daughter asks, I’ll be open to talking.”
Through grief and fear, and with support around her, Elise has arrived at a clear intention and a message for her children, in their own time.
“I’m focusing on creating a life I love and deepening my connections. When it feels right for us, we’ll talk plainly and gently: this is the situation, and this is what we can do. I want them to keep creating small, beautiful things and lovely moments, and to build the strength to meet whatever lies ahead.”