At the Relay For Life Hornsby Hope Ceremony, North Shore Mums Founder Rachel Chappell shared her moving and deeply personal story of the past year — from the shock of a breast cancer diagnosis to the strength, gratitude and hope that carried her through treatment.
Speaking to a crowd gathered in reflection and remembrance, Rachel opened up about the realities of surgery, chemotherapy and hair loss, the love that sustained her family through it all, and the lessons she’s learned about slowing down, accepting help and cherishing the small moments.
Her heartfelt speech touched everyone present — and this week, Rachel is proud to share that her recent scans show she is cancer-free.
Below is the full speech Rachel delivered at the Hope Ceremony on Saturday night.
Watch the speech
It’s hard to believe just how much my life has changed in the last 12 months.
Today is November 1, 2025. This is a significant date for me, because exactly one year ago, on the 1st of November 2024, I received an email from BreastScreen NSW asking me to return for further tests.
A few weeks earlier, I’d found a small lump in my left breast.
I wasn’t too worried about this… I had no family history of breast cancer. I exercised regularly. I ate well. I’d breastfed all three of my girls. I was 46 — relatively young.
I never thought I’d get breast cancer. It simply wasn’t something I ever imagined would happen to me.
When I found the lump, I went straight to the BreastScreen NSW website and booked an appointment.
I didn’t even notice the message that said:
“Screening is for women with no symptoms. If you find a lump, see your doctor.”
Looking back, I should have gone straight to my GP for a referral for a mammogram and ultrasound. I would have been seen much quicker, and I would have been diagnosed several weeks earlier.
So please — if you ever find a lump, book an appointment with your doctor.
“You’ve got cancer”…
The earliest follow-up appointment that I could get with BreastScreen was four weeks away, but I couldn’t wait that long, knowing that there was a lump.
I visited my GP, got a referral for a mammogram and ultrasound, and booked an appointment at San Breast Care.
During the ultrasound, the sonographer paid particular attention to the area with the lump, told me it looked a bit “funny”, and booked me in for a biopsy.
I was starting to worry.
A few days later, I returned for the biopsy.
I wasn’t expecting any bad news that day, as I’d been told the pathology results would take about five days. However, after the procedure, the Doctor said to me that the lump would need to be removed regardless, and that I should book an appointment with a Breast Surgeon ASAP.
I left the hospital sobbing and in shock. In that moment, my life took a very different turn. I simply couldn’t believe that this was happening to me!
When the pathology results came back, they confirmed it was breast cancer.
The next day, my husband and I met with my surgeon, who gave me more details about the cancer. He told me I had Grade 2, hormone-positive, HER2-negative breast cancer — a 2.5 cm tumour, with lymph node involvement.
I was booked in for surgery — a lumpectomy with axillary clearance — just ten days later.
The next few days were a flurry of more scans… MRI, PET and CT…
After a nervous wait, my surgeon called with the good news that there was no spread to other organs in my body, but they did show extensive lymph node involvement.
Based on that, the multidisciplinary team mapped out a treatment plan: surgery, followed by chemotherapy, radiotherapy and long-term hormone-blocking medication.
Telling the kids
The hardest part was telling our three daughters — aged 10, 13 and 15.
We waited until we knew exactly what we were dealing with, and we had the treatment plan in place.
We chose a Friday evening, so they could have the weekend to process the news before returning to school on Monday.
It was one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do.
There were tears, there were hugs, and although it was the worst news we’ve ever had to tell them,… and although we didn’t know what the future held, I had never felt such love and support from my family.
I realised that even in the darkest moments, love and connection shine the brightest.
The morning after telling the kids, we went to Freshwater Beach to watch the sunrise.
Surgery
Just ten days after diagnosis, on 29 November, I had surgery to remove the tumour and affected lymph nodes.
Waking up, I felt a massive sense of relief that the tumour was out — but I was also scared about what came next.
A visit from the kids the day after the lumpectomy and axillary clearance
I spent the next few weeks walking around with a bag for my drains, as the lymphatic fluid slowly worked its way out of my body.
I was determined to have both drains removed by Christmas, so I could fly to Noosa for a family holiday that we’d booked months earlier. Thankfully, the recovery went well, allowing me to enjoy a week of relaxation in the sunshine with my family.
I remember flying back into Sydney, bawling my eyes out on the plane, terrified about the next phase of treatment.
Chemotherapy
Six weeks after surgery, I started chemotherapy on 10 January 2025.
I had four fortnightly rounds of AC chemo, followed by 12 weekly rounds of paclitaxel.
At my first appointment, my Oncologist went through all the possible side effects. Hair loss, fatigue, nausea and vomiting, mouth sores, increased risk of infection, brain fog, constipation or diarrhea. The list went on and on. Hearing it all at once was overwhelming — I spent much of that appointment in tears.
But despite the fear, I was determined to complete treatment and do whatever I could to support my body along the way.
Before my first chemotherapy infusion, I walked into the chemo room with my heart pounding… I remember sitting in the chair and the nurse going through the side effects again. More tears!
But their kindness, compassion and even humour helped me get through. The nurses were calm and reassuring. The patients chatted and shared stories. There was banter and laughter! It wasn’t the scary place I had imagined.
As the weeks went on, I managed to lead a relatively ordinary life — going to the supermarket, meeting friends for coffee, watching my kids play sports, attending dance competitions, and the school musical.
From the start, I was determined to support my body in every way.
I kept active — swapping my usual early morning workouts for daily walks even when I didn’t feel like it! Walking really lifted my mood and helped to ease the side effects.
Rachel participated in the 58 Squat Challenge in March 2024, raising over $9000 for the National Breast Cancer Foundation.
Food became my medicine. With the help of a nutritionist, I focused on whole, nutrient-rich foods — including lots of fibre, lean protein, vegetables, berries, green tea, and omega-3s — and eliminated processed foods and alcohol completely.
I drank plenty of water, especially on treatment days, and even installed a reverse-osmosis water filter so I knew I was drinking the cleanest water possible.
I also sought additional support through complementary and alternative medicine, a naturopath, a lymphoedema physiotherapist, chiropractic care, acupuncture, and even foot reflexology — all of which helped my body cope more effectively.
Managing stress was a significant challenge — learning to say ‘no’, rest more, delegate tasks, and accept help. I meditated, tapped and used breath-work.
My mantra was “one day at a time”… I didn’t want to look too far into the future and worry about what could happen.
Throughout it all, my husband was incredible — attending every appointment with me and taking over many of the family duties, including running the kids around, doing the laundry, and making trips to the shops, etc.
And my girls — they were my motivation. Their love and hugs got me through the hardest days.
It was five months of treatment — and while it’s not something I’d ever want to repeat, it wasn’t as awful as I’d feared.
Hair Loss
I won’t sugarcoat it — losing my hair was probably the most confronting part of chemotherapy. I’d had the same shoulder-length brown hair for years, so seeing that familiar person in the mirror change was really hard.
About a month before starting chemotherapy, I cut my hair into a short bob to prepare myself. But exactly two weeks after my first AC treatment, it started falling out — fast. Even though I knew it would happen, nothing prepared me for it.
After a few emotional days, I decided to take control. I visited a caring local hairdresser and had my hair cut into a pixie cut, surrounded by my family. Everyone said it looked great… but it just didn’t feel like me. It kept falling out, and I was getting patches… so the next day, I shaved it completely.
I never really embraced the bald look — I admire those who do! I tried all sorts of hats, scarves and wigs, and mostly kept my head covered.
But losing my hair meant that the treatment was working. In addition to attacking my hair cells, I focused on the fact that it was also killing any floating cancer cells in my body.
Radiotherapy
After chemo, I had a few weeks off to recover before starting radiotherapy in July — 25 rounds, every weekday, for 5 weeks.
By then, my hair was growing back, and the finish line was in sight.
I applied my MooGoo cream religiously, and apart from some mild burns in the last week, I came through it well.
When the final treatment ended, I rang the bell — and cried. Not because it was over… but because I’d made it through.
Now, I’m on hormone blockers for the next seven years, and will have my ovaries removed in December. It’s a long road, but one I walk with gratitude and perspective.
Lessons learned from my breast cancer journey
Cancer changes you. It’s impossible to go through something like this and come out the same person…
Even after treatment finishes, you don’t just go back to being the same person you were.
Cancer forced me to slow down. As a mum, a business owner, and a “yes” person, slowing down was hard.
To rest. To receive. To say “no.”
Cancer has made me truly appreciate the amazing friends and family I have, including my husband, my children, my mum & dad, my sisters & brother.
I was so lucky to be surrounded by love and kindness. Messages, meals, flowers, offers to help with the kids — those gestures meant the world.
Cancer taught me to appreciate the small things — a beautiful sunrise, a walk in the bush, a good laugh.
Cancer also taught me that hope is about believing in better days, even when you can’t yet see them.
Surrounded by love at the Sydney Breast Cancer Foundation Ladies Lunch on 24 October 2025.
Final message…
To anyone going through cancer treatment right now — please know this: you are not alone. There will be hard days — days you want to give up, days you wonder if you can keep going.
But you can. You will. One day at a time.
And to everyone else — whether you’re a survivor, a carer, a loved one, or remembering someone you’ve lost — thank you for being part of this community of hope.
Ladies — please, book that mammogram. Check your breasts. Even if, like me, you can’t imagine breast cancer happening to you. Early detection saves lives.
Hope for the future…
This week, I received the results from my annual scans — and I’m cancer-free. I can’t tell you what a relief this is!
Hope carried me through this past year, and now, I stand here full of it.
Cancer may have changed my body and my plans, but it hasn’t taken my hope.
If anything, it’s made it stronger.
More on breast cancer
- This wasn’t on my Vision Board: Breast Cancer at 46
- Podcast: Why early detection of Breast Cancer is vital, with Laura Matrljan
- Navigating Chemotherapy: What helped me cope through the treatment
- Breast Health: Should you worry if one breast looks different?
- What to give when you don’t want to send flowers
