Preparing for Life After Treatment: Alexandra’s story

15 January, 2026

Alexandra reflects on the months following treatment, learning to trust her body again, finding strength in unexpected places, and preparing for life after cancer with honesty and hope.

It has been a while since I last sat down to write. Not because I didn’t want to but because life has been hectic. The last few months have been filled with chemotherapy, appointments, fatigue, and learning how to exist in a body that has been through more than I ever imagined it could handle. But now, for the first time in a long time, I can finally say this: I’m starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

On the 2nd of January, I received a clear CT scan. Those words alone feel powerful. A positive sign that this nightmare, the one that crept in uninvited and turned my world upside down may finally be nearing its end. I don’t think you ever forget the fear that comes with waiting for results, but hearing good news reminds you that hope is still very much alive.

Over the past few months, something interesting has happened. My stoma, this thing that once felt so overwhelming, has almost faded into the background of my daily life. In many ways, it feels like it’s been forgotten, even by me at times. I’ve started going back to the gym, reconnecting with a version of myself that feels strong and capable. I’ve been eating foods I used to enjoy before surgery, with little to no issues. These may sound like small victories, but to me, they feel huge.

“These may sound like small victories, but to me, they feel huge.”

I won’t sugar-coat it. There was an accident. One of those moments that catches you completely off guard, where you don’t even understand why it happened. But instead of spiralling, instead of letting panic take over, I shrugged it off and carried on. That reaction alone showed me just how far I’ve come.

Friends and family often ask me how I’m coping with the stoma. Some tell me I’m brave. While I appreciate the sentiment, I see it differently. I didn’t have a choice. It was simple, really have the stoma and live, or don’t have the surgery and be dead within three years. When you look at it like that, bravery doesn’t really come into it. Survival does.

“Bravery doesn’t really come into it. Survival does.”

What has surprised me the most is how much my mental resilience has grown. My mindset has shifted in ways I never expected. I’ve learned that if I panic, my mind panics. When my mind panics, my body follows, that cycle doesn’t help me, it only makes things harder. So now, I take a different approach. I just do it. Whatever “it” is at that moment. I face it head-on, calmly, because I’ve learned that I am capable, even on days when I don’t feel strong.

As I prepare for life after treatment, I know there will be good days and bad days. I’m realistic about that. Healing isn’t linear, and life doesn’t suddenly become perfect just because treatment ends. But I’m ready. Ready to take each day as it comes, ready to adapt, and ready to keep moving forward.

Strangely enough I feel grateful, grateful to my stoma Sandy for being so good to me. For keeping me alive. For allowing me to return to the gym, to enjoy food, to laugh, to plan, and to dream again. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually looking forward to seeing where our adventures take us next.

This chapter has changed me. It has stripped me back, rebuilt me, and shown me a strength I didn’t know I had. As I stand here, on the edge of life after treatment, I feel something I haven’t felt in a long time: hope.

If You’re Walking a Similar Path

If you’ve ever felt like life changed in an instant, or you’ve faced something that made you question why me?, then I hope my story reminds you that you’re never alone.

So please come along for the journey with me.

For more support and advice please contact us on: 0800 328 4257 or visit our support page for more ways to get in touch: colostomyuk.org/support