When I was 29, my dad, just 52, was coaching my brother Graeme and me at cricket practice. Graeme and I were in the practice nets for batting practice and Dad was retrieving the balls and returning them back to the bowlers when Dad collapsed—a heart attack. I didn’t know how to perform CPR. I stood there, helpless, as he died right in front of us. I have carried that guilt for years.

Years later, my younger brother called me with devastating news: he had cholangiocarcinoma, a rare and aggressive bile duct cancer. He was terrified—very terrified. Once again, I was overwhelmed by that same helplessness. I could do nothing, and he passed away. I was his older brother—someone he looked up to and I could not help.

Two years later, I was diagnosed with the exact same cancer as Graeme. Despite being in a worse condition, I somehow survived. My mum wanted me to walk away from it all and move on with my life. She had already lost her husband and one son; she couldn’t bear the thought of losing me too. I understood her plea, but I couldn’t walk away. My brother had children, and I had two of my own. It was in the collision of all these thoughts that I realised my survival had become more than a personal victory—it was an unexpected responsibility and an opportunity to become part of the solution.

I now had an incredible opportunity to ensure, as best I could, that I would never again be paralysed by helplessness. I could break this cycle—I could become better prepared and play an integral role in the cancer success equation.

Each of us has the same opportunity: to do our best. That is all anyone can do or be expected to do—our best, nothing more, nothing less. And that’s exactly what I needed to focus on.

I had survived, and in doing so, gained uniquely valuable insight into defeating a high-lethality cancer. Through the obstacle of this disease and my journey through it, new possibilities emerged—possibilities that only I, as a patient deeply immersed in the fight for survival, could truly see and understand. My success had not only become part of the solution but had also underscored a profound responsibility that came with it.

A responsibility to develop the skills needed to effectively share these hard-earned insights and to build upon them—to bridge the gaps and address the unmet needs that both Claire and I had observed in medical science and the delivery of best practices. These possibilities demanded attention—my attention!

Driven by pure necessity, I realised it would be up to me to ignite the momentum needed to galvanise those of talent and great character—the two essential, interdependent components required to embrace this effort and elevate it to its higher reality. I would have to persevere until momentum itself reached out and embraced my efforts—until the inherent value within this bold and audacious challenge rose above the noise and was embraced by science, healthcare, and ultimately today’s patients.

Yes, an audacious and bold challenge undertaken by a mere patient. But it was my responsibility to carry this philosophy and its possibilities from the battlefields of cancer that I had just come from—battles where resilience and survival are forged—to the classrooms of understanding, the laboratories of innovation, and the bedsides of patients. Separating these battlefield lessons from the emotions that carried them seemed logical at first, but I came to realise those emotions were an essential part of the lessons themselves. They gave meaning and power to the insights I had gained.

This was becoming a journey driven by pure necessity, shaped by hard-earned lived experiences and the laser-focused purpose they brought—purpose and perseverance that demanded I adapt and evolve at every step. It became a journey of critical thinking, never allowing assumptions to lead but instead steadily transforming chaos into its counterpart: clear, purposeful steps—a pathway that broke down the overwhelming challenge of cancer, where each step seamlessly followed the next until survival was within reach.

Now, as you read this, perhaps you understand why I do what I do. You don’t need to be a doctor or a scientist to make a difference, anyone of purpose and resilience can rise above what stands in the way. Just imagine if doctors, scientists, politicians, and others with talent and great character carried this same thinking into everything they do! Talent is common place – great character is not, together they are magic!

We each get one life—one chance. Most people don’t see that the real opportunity is life itself: to do and leave your best, nothing more. Life’s pathway is built from obstacles and the possibilities within each – our opportunity to shape the path that others benefit from.

That’s how we create change: by leading by example until others see the value in what we do. That’s how we give our best. That’s how we leave a legacy that adds value beyond ourselves and our time.

Symptoms

While cycling I suffered a sudden loss of energy, much like the onset of a bad flu. The next day these following symptoms became obvious:

• Increasing lethargy
• Yellowing eyes
• Itching and yellowing hands
• Pale-clay-colored stools and dark urine

Cancer Diagnosis Details

• GP: Blood test discovered elevated liver enzymes: ALT (alanine aminotransferase) and AST (aspartate aminotransferase) in my blood
• Ultrasound found suspicious lesions, immediately followed by a CT Scan which revealed lesions blocking the bile flow.
• ERCP Procedure and brushing confirmed cholangiocarcinoma: ‘Endoscopic Retrograde Cholangiopancreatography’
• Diagnosis: Stage 2b Extrahepatic – Distal

Surgeries ( total:25 hours)

Whipple Multi-Organ Removal

• Bile duct 95%
• Cystic Duct & Gallbladder 100% (Cholecystectomy)
• Stomach 80% (Gastrectomy)
• Pancreas 33% (Pancreatectomy)
• Duodenum 100% (Small Intestine )
• 2 local lymph nodes

Surgical Complications

• Substantial Wound Infections: 5 Weeks VacPac Pump
• Emergency Ruptured Aneurysm 1-month post-op: Main Hepatic Artery terminated

Clinical Trials

Attica:

Attica trial is trialing an adjuvant therapy.

• 6-month Chemo, weekly infusions (12 hr days) not well tolerated
•  2 year follow up
• At 5.5 months, I experienced a prolific metastatic breakout
• Mets Description: Large multiple tumors under my right rib cage, across the top of my liver, and both lungs – (too many to count.) Breathing became labored with every breath, and sitting became increasingly difficult.
• Now – late-stage, Stage 4 Prognosis: weeks to days without further intervention

Keynote 158 (Aug 2017): Monoclonal Immunotherapy

1. 3 weekly infusions
2. Response – Day 3
3. Cytokine Release Syndrome– CRS Level > 3+: Day 4 to Day 12
4. Complete & Full & Response – officiated at 9 Week Scan
5. Reference: NED – Remission – Cure

Biomarkers

• PDL1
• MSI-High
• dMMR MSH1 – PMS2
• TMB-High

From healthy cyclist to terminal cancer patient with weeks if not days to live, then back to cycling 400kms per week, and pioneering a new patient-led era in cancer response.

One moment I was a fit and healthy cyclist, the next, I was battling an aggressive and terminal cancer with an unbeaten record. Like most people, I was naive if not blissfully ignorant to the fact that healthy people can also get cancer. Health and fitness as I was to learn are very subjective and widely open to interpretation.

Late October 2016: Symptoms

It was a regular Saturday morning coffee ride between Main Beach and Burleigh on the Gold Coast when I experienced a sudden onset of weakness, much like a bad flu coming on. I had to abandon the ride and head straight home to the couch. Little did I suspect that this would mark the beginning of a battle for my life.

November 2016: The Diagnosis

Diagnosis – Prognosis: I was diagnosed with cholangiocarcinoma and a prognosis of 6 months, the exact same diagnosis that had claimed my younger brother Graeme just two years earlier.

December 8th 2016

Whipple Surgery: The Whipple is a multi-organ surgery performed by a team of 7 surgeons over 14 hours. They removed a shopping list of vital organs:

• Common Hepatic Duct
  (Lower Section)
• Common Bile duct,
• Gallbladder,
• Stomach: 80%,
• Head of  Pancreas,
• Hepatopancreatic Duct
• Ampulla of Vater
• Sphincter of Oddi
• Duodenum
  (First chamber of Small Colon).

January 5th, 2017

An emergency aneurysm in my main hepatic artery nearly claimed my life. With only minutes to spare, thanks to an amazing surgical save by Dr. Tom Snow—who only moments before was in his car about to leave the hospital—I survived. Without his intervention, I wouldn’t be here to tell this tale.

July 2017: Aggressive Recurrence

The cancer returned aggressively. Now with weeks if not days to live, my oncologist, Dr. Matthew Burge, threw me a highly speculative ‘Hail Mary Pass’ in the form of a phase 2 clinical trial that had no success record with cholangiocarcinoma or pancreatic cancer at that time.

Too weak to sign the contract unassisted, Claire held my arm up while Matt guided the pen in my hand so I could sign the trial contract. Immediately after I signed, Matt looked me straight in the eye and, with his best cycling voice, said, “Steve, you have one job —stay alive for the next 30 days.” That was how long I would have to wait to receive my first infusion.

The Hail Mary: This new concept in enlisting our immune system to eliminate cancer, developed by Professors James Allison and Tasuku Honjo, would later win them a Nobel Prize in 2018.

August 8, 2017: The Hail Mary Pass is Thrown

Day 1: I made it to my first infusion.

August 11, 2017: Catching the Hail Mary

Day 3 Post Infusion: Miraculously, just three days later, I caught Matt’s pass and scored a touchdown: all my pain disappeared, and I could sit up, breathe freely, and walk normally.

October 2017: A Historic Milestone

Nine weeks later, scans confirmed I was completely NED (No Evidence of Disease), the first-ever cholangiocarcinoma patient to dynamically reverse a stage 4 cancer from such a late-stage setting. It was a special moment in anyone’s life. You can read more about that below.

A New Path and an Unexpected Responsibility

This whole experience set me on a new course, combining my pre-cancer life experience with the expertise gained in overcoming an unbeatable diagnosis. I had risen above what I thought I was capable of achieving, both physically and mentally. Driven to survive, I had forged a new pathway between the unlikely and the impossible. It was said to me, “Steve, you have walked and lived the hypotheses of the greatest minds in cancer science today, something that few can claim.” This incredibly unique lived experience revealed an unexpected responsibility.

I had to boldly and creatively leverage my unique advantage and pioneer a new patient-led response to cancer. This response pathway—a mix of process and culture—ensured that today’s science would be more fully understood and utilized to benefit today’s patients battling to survive. I aimed to bring science and healthcare around the empowered patient, thereby forging new shared pathways in how we approach and respond to cancer. This strategy increased effective engagement and capabilities at all levels, materially boosting five-year survival rates and beyond.

Cycling: Survival and Transformation

As it transpired, my passion for cycling carved out a path through decisions and connections that ultimately saved my life. Cycling became not only my distraction but also my connecting interest with many who had a hand in keeping me alive. It continues to influence how I live life, think, and act on those thoughts. Cycling has become an amazing introspective filtering and transformational space.

Video: Part One of Two

Bold Deliberation and Persistent Creativity

This is a collection of my lived experiences and what I have learned. I hope something within these words can lift you above what stands in your way. I loved to write, writing seemed to give life to my thoughts. I could see them in front of me for what they were, no matter how illiterate or disorganised. I had given them life and a chance to find their reality. – Steve

Cancer is relentless. So we must be too—until it is no more.

When faced with a serious cancer diagnosis, we must move forward with bold deliberation, persistent creativity, and unconditional willingness.

This is how we cut through the noise, build resilience beyond what was thought possible, and develop the endurance needed to flip cancer on its head and break its grip.

“The person who cannot see the unforeseen sees nothing, for the known way is an impasse.”

These are the attributes we must cultivate—to see what others cannot or refuse to, and to do what others will not or cannot.

This is how we build perseverance and forge pathways between the improbable and the impossible—toward remarkable outcomes. Pathways unseen by those free of need and bathed in comfort.

The Framework of Perseverance

Many times, hope was all I had. I had no other strategy but to pursue its reality. 

About Hope

The Projection of Need:
Hope is not a wish. It is the vision beyond the problem, activated in times of need and guided by inner will.
It requires no luck, permission, or validation.

About Need

The architect, the trigger, the recruiter

The catalyst. A silent architect that sets vision and direction.
It forces movement when all else stalls. It demands action when none seems possible.

About Inner Will

Inner Will: The Unaffected Observer & Navigator

Not the conscious self—but something deeper. A constant guardian. A navigator.

Always reading objective reality. Always adapting.

Like Google Maps running in the background, inner will continuously maps the way forward.
When obstacles appear, it recalibrates—drawing from history, memory, and experience.

Where others see nothing—or refuse to—inner will has already mapped the next move.

The Hope Lessons

1️⃣ Seeking validation or guarantees from those who have never walked in our shoes only weakens our resolve. Seek guidance from those who have walked this path or have deep experience in it.

2️⃣ The path forward is not given; it is built.
When obstacles arise, we do not wait—we adapt, recalibrate, and move.

3️⃣ Perseverance is not willpower alone—it is the alignment of Hope, Need, and Inner Will.
When these three unite, we endure. We overcome.

The Flow:
Need → Hope → Inner Will → New Possibilities →  Resilence → Perserverance 

Become a Straightforward Thinker

An easy concept, but it is very difficult.

Yet, this is how we see new possibilities we could not see before. This is how we stay in the fight.

• If the path is blocked, find another way.
  If the fruit is bitter, spit it out.
  Sometimes, the longest way home is the quickest.

The New Challenge

Francis Bacon said it well:
“Nature, to be commanded, must first be obeyed.”

So, I say about the nature of cancer:
“Cancer, to be controlled and defeated, must first be understood.”

And so, that became my challenge—to understand cancer’s nature, the science that drives it, and the resilience of its host to fight back.

Many think me mad for returning to the coalface of this fight—but if not me, then who?

Someone must stand shoulder to shoulder, fight alongside them, and lead them back to solid ground—to their families.

Philosophy is born on the battlefield, not in the classroom.
Just ask any cancer patient.
The difference between theory and reality defines life or death, success or failure.
I know—I’ve lived it. And newly diagnosed patients need lived experience at their side.

Cancer is not just disease; it is a force bound by nature’s laws.
Its science is not just biology; it is a code waiting to be cracked.
And the host is not just a victim; they are a system built for resistance, adaptation, and survival.

The battle is won where cancer, science, and ‘human will’ converge.