In 2012, my world flipped upside down with one terrifying sentence: “You have stage four melanoma.”
There’s no manual for what to do when you’re told you might not make it. I was a healthy 50-year-old mum, living an ordinary life, when a sudden seizure led to a diagnosis that would change everything. The doctors said I had months to live. But something in me refused to accept that timeline.
This blog isn’t just about survival—it’s about what happens when you say, “No, this won’t be the end of my story.”
Becoming Patient 71 was no easy feat. It took relentless advocacy, endless paperwork, and a stroke of luck to get into a clinical trial in the U.S.—a world away from my home in Australia. I became the 71st patient enrolled in that trial, and the name stuck.
But more than a number, Patient 71 became a symbol of hope—for me, for my family, and eventually, for others searching for their second chance.
It was a journey that tested every part of me. I left my home, flew across the world, and entered an experimental trial that had no guarantees. I was filled with hope but also fear—fear of the unknown, of leaving my daughter behind, of everything that could go wrong. But what I gained from that experience reshaped my view of life, health, and resilience.
Today, when people hear the name “Patient 71,” I want them to think of possibility. Of the strength we all have to fight for more time. More love. More life.
