Hope: A Tangible Path We Construct

Hope isn’t a gift we wait for—it’s something we unlock. It rises from our inner will to overcome the very obstacles that block our path, forming a vision and creating a way forward.

When life confronts us with seemingly insurmountable challenges, like a terminal cancer diagnosis, it ignites our unbreakable will, fueling hope and lighting the way when all known paths and options have been exhausted. Hope becomes our inner bridge between the impossible and the possible. By giving hope oxygen, we breathe life into it, turning possibilities into realities—our reality.

Granted, this may not be your everyday way of thinking, but when faced with the gravity of terminal cancer and the prediction of imminent death, your perspective undergoes a seismic shift. You begin to see things you couldn’t before, things that others cannot see.

Yet, for those not compelled by such absolute necessity, they cannot see your path—they only see the hopelessness of the impossible. But that was okay; they weren’t the ones building it. Claire and I were. Hope doesn’t rely on the agreement or guarantees of others; it thrives despite them, guiding us one step at a time, despite the noise. The lesson learned is that seeking guarantees and promises from those unaffected, skilled, or lacking in lived experience is, in fact, a cancer in itself, further weakening our ability to respond.

When facing a serious cancer diagnosis, bold deliberation, persistent creativity, and unwavering perseverance—born of our inner will—become our bridge-building tools. They help us cut through the noise of misguided opinions and cultivate the endurance needed to flip cancer on its head and break its grip. We move forward not because the way is certain, but because we know it is the only way.

Become a straightforward thinker:
If the path is blocked, go around. If the fruit is bitter, throw it out. Sometimes, the longest way home is the quickest way home.

Simple! Yet Not Easy

But this is how we see the possibilities we didn’t see before. By remaining open to such thinking, we leave a light on, ensuring that opportunity will always have a way to find us—even in the darkest of moments.

Many times hope was the only strategy I had left.
I instinctively knew that if I did not lean into this, it would lean back even harder.

Nature, to be commanded, must first be obeyed.” – Francis Bacon
“Therefore To control and defeat this cancer, I would also need to understand it.” – Steve H.

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.

“Because a thing seems difficult, do not think it impossible.” – Marcus Aurelius
“There is always a way if we can remain open to such thinking.” – Steve H.

Because I Can – Cancer took it from me, but I have taken it back. Cycling like life requires the disciplines of ‘persistence’ and ‘perseverance’, it grounds my effort and keeps me connected to the opportunity—life.

ICU hospital beds sparked the initial motivation, cycling offered a parallel world to distract me from the thoughts of dying, and then later on it physically became my special place of introspection, vision, and a transformative workshop on wheels to expand on what I had learned.

Empower the patient – Increase Survival. Empower their support community – Exponentially Increase Survival.

The empowered patient stands uniquely positioned to understand, engage, and ultimately succeed. They hold the power to influence and reshape both science and healthcare, leading to increased survivorship and reducing financial burdens on both private and public levels. This approach offers a common-sense strategy, effectively bridging the gap between the success of early-detectable cancers and the harsh high morbidity rates of cancers only diagnosed at late-stage.

Update: Significant Breakthrough

HEALTHY PEOPLE GET CANCER TOO; We are all healthy until we are not.

None of us can predict when we might face a cancer diagnosis. Even healthy individuals, including doctors, nurses, and scientists, are not immune. That’s why being well-equipped with knowledge and resources becomes a crucial factor and advantage if we are ever unexpectedly diagnosed with a serious cancer.

There is nothing in life or the science of life that is not vulnerable to being knocked off its precarious pedestal of certainty. The only certainty in life is that there is no certainty, just obstacles and their possibilities. Therefore, the opportunity within life is to see the possibilities within the obstacles and then set about making them our reality.

When you believe in cancer’s reputation more than you believe in your ability to respond and overcome it – which will triumph?

Shifting Perceptions: Changing the Angle of Attack

To succeed over cancer is to dismantle the diagnosis, to strip it of its reputational packaging, to see it as it really is, not as you fear it is. It is only then that you will be ready to effectively respond.
Follow the Process: The Process methodically breaks the cancer down into small, winnable pieces. It keeps you focused on conquering each step in front of you now – today, removing the disempowering distractions posed by the enormity of the challenge. One step seamlessly follows the next wearing down the cancer’s defences until they are no more – until cancer is no more.

A crucial distinction: “I Have Cancer” is an objective fact. In contrast, “I Am Going to Die” is very subjective, a borrowed opinion, not a fact. It does not factor in the capacity of a well ‘Equipped and Empowered Patient.’

When diagnosed, it’s critical to see a cancer diagnosis as it is, not as you fear it is; being diagnosed is just a position, not a fate. This clear view unleashes your courage to act on what’s controllable and accept what isn’t. That is when you’re truly ready to effectively respond.

You must quickly move to accept the things you cannot change, have the courage to change the things you can control and change, and possess the wisdom to know the difference. You cannot control that you have cancer, but you can control how you will respond.

Shakespeare said, ‘Nothing is either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.’ Our perception and the stories we tell ourselves determine whether it’s a good story, a bad story, or no story at all.

I recall Theodore Roosevelt’s words, “We must all wear out or rust out.” I choose to wear out. This mindset powered my response when given just weeks to live.

All this is simple, but not easy. It takes practice, persistence, perseverance, and a disciplined focus that comes from taking full responsibility. We as patients must think differently, we must have creative persistence and we must hold our poise and grace – our nerve.

To repeat how I began this page: We must Act with Deliberation, Boldness, and Persistent Creativity: We all have the ‘Inner Will‘ and ‘Freedom‘ to choose these innate attributes at any moment, it is up to us – it is an indisputable right that only we can relinquish. ~ All the best, Steve