- When Grace Scoleri, 62, from Melbourne, Vic, felt an unusual pain in her lower back she booked in for a last minute massage.
- A series of tests discovered a sinister diagnosis was the cause of her pain.
- Now fighting her second cancer diagnosis, Grace is raising awareness to raise awareness and inspire other women to get tested.
Here Grace tells her story in her own words.
Sitting at the computer desk in my home office, a dull ache spread across my coccyx area.
‘Ouch,’ I winced.
It was July 2020, and I was working from home for the family construction business I owned with my husband Charley, then 63.
I’d always struggled with back pain from past sporting injuries, so I wasn’t too worried.
But with every bend and twist, the pain seemed to worsen.
‘Something is really wrong.’
So I called my local massage therapist, and she was able squeeze me in that day.
Afterwards I felt some much-needed relief.
With Charley away for the weekend, I planned to spend some time with our girls, Stephanie, then 29, and Alexandra, 27.
By the next morning though, the pain had intensified.
The dull ache had made its way to my lower abdomen and was now radiating through me.
Clutching my belly in agony, I realised how swollen it was.
Lifting my shirt, I noticed that I looked like I was seven months pregnant!
But having gone through menopause years earlier, my baby carrying days were long gone.
Something is really wrong, I thought, concerned.
‘Your tumour markers are up.’
Not wanting to worry Charley while he was out of town, I drove myself to Richmond Hospital, 10 minutes away.
There, doctors ran some blood tests.
‘Your tumour markers are up,’ a doctor revealed.
He didn’t think the matter was urgent, and recommended I see my GP in the next few weeks.
Back at home, desperate to ease the pain, I had a long soak in a magnesium bath.
When Charley got back the next day, I was in a world of pain.
‘I wish I knew earlier,’ he said, helping me into bed.
When my condition hadn’t changed two days later, I made an appointment with my GP.
By now my lower abdomen was so tender, I couldn’t be touched or wear tight-fitting clothing.
‘I’m sending you for an urgent internal ultrasound,’ she said.
When she called back that afternoon, I knew the results were serious.
‘You have stage 3A high-grade serous ovarian cancer.’
‘You have stage 3A high-grade serous ovarian cancer,’ the doctor explained.
This meant it was aggressive and at an advanced stage.
There was no history of ovarian cancer in our family, and I felt totally blindsided.
And despite being 58, I’d never felt fitter.
When I wasn’t working, I was slamming balls across a tennis court, punching pads in boxing class and raising my heart rate in Pilates.
I couldn’t believe that a deadly disease had been growing inside me.
As I struggled to come to grips with the life-changing news, I researched the disease online.
I was shocked to discover more than 1800 Australians are diagnosed with ovarian cancer each year.
Worse still, it claims the life of one woman every eight hours.
‘You’re the strongest person I know.’
With no early detection test, more than 70 per cent of cases are diagnosed in the advanced stages.
If my tummy hadn’t become swollen after seeing my masseuse, I might never have known something was wrong, I realised, convinced the massage had saved my life.
Breaking the news to Charley and the girls later that night, I felt helpless.
‘We’ll be with you every step of the way,’ they vowed.
‘You’re the strongest person I know,’ Charley reassured me.
‘This is not going to be the end. I’m going to get through this,’ I promised.
In hospital later that week, I underwent a full hysterectomy, including the removal of both ovaries, to save my life.
Coming to after surgery, my room was empty as Covid restrictions made it impossible to have visitors.
‘Take care of the girls for me. I’ll be okay,’ I told Charley over the phone.
Afterwards, my surgeon was confident all the cancer had been removed.
I spent 10 days in hospital, before being discharged.
‘Take care of the girls for me. I’ll be okay.’
A week later, I was back to begin 18 gruelling rounds of chemo.
Desperate to feel normal, I opted for a chemo cold cap – a device that can help reduce hair loss during the therapy.
But I still had a range of other nasty side effects including nausea and pins and needles.
Amazingly, in August 2020, I was declared in remission.
But I still faced 22 months of immunotherapy and maintenance treatments.
After that, Charley and I celebrated by travelling through Italy for three months.
But during our trip, I started to feel nauseous.
‘I think my cancer is back,’ I told Charley, devastated.
Back at home in November 2023, a PET scan confirmed my worst fears.
They found two tumours in my peritoneum – the tissue lining my abdominal cavity – but thankfully it hadn’t had a chance to spread further.
Heartbreakingly, the chance of recurrence for ovarian cancer patients diagnosed in the advanced stages is scarily high.
In the last 10 months I’ve faced 30 more rounds of chemo and 24 cycles of immunotherapy.
Inspired to change the statistics, I’ve signed on as an ambassador for the Ovarian Cancer Research Foundation and am also the founding patron of the foundation’s Patrons Program.
By sharing my story, I am hoping to raise awareness and inspire other women to get tested at the first sign something is amiss.
Thankfully I don’t carry the mutated BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes – that increase the risk of ovarian and breast cancers – meaning I haven’t passed them on to my daughters.
Still, I’m always reminding them to get screened.
Along with my hubby, my girls are my reasons to keep fighting every day.
For more information visit ocrf.com.au
