Doing cancer, queerly!

Mel Erwin has stage 4 lung cancer. Her cancer co-pilot is her fiancee, Sarah. Together 8 years, and coming out later in life, Mel shares what it’s like for her living queerly in cancerland.

Mel, a smiling white woman, raises a triumphant hand on her bike in the sunshine

In her substack, Mel Erwin shares her experience of living with stage 4 EGFR+ lung cancer. Many people with this type of lung cancer tend to have a minimal to no smoking history.

Mel was the director of a literacy organisation ensuring all children learnt to read regardless of background or need. She was diagnosed in 2020, although doctors initally thought she had Long COVID, and she subsequently underwent chemotherapy, radiotherapy and surgery. In June 2024, a biopsy revealed a recurrence. She is now taking Osimertinib, a daily medication that is designed to inhibit the growth of tumour cells. 

It feels personal because it is personal. And we need a considerate, inclusive response to give people the best chance of living full, glorious lives with cancer. When cancer knocks on anyone’s door, its cold, brutal wind buries into our bones. It is unbearable to contemplate that one’s sexuality or gender identity might make this wind even icier.
Sarah and Mel by the sea with their hair whipped above their heads. They are laughing.

Mel and Sarah met 8 years ago. In her post, Mel comments that “three years into our relationship, we were thrown headlong into the cancer crater”. In another Substack post for World Cancer Day dedicated to people who care for loved ones with cancer, Mel describes the power and beauty of Sarah’s support.

She is the iron lung, the steadying external breath when my breathing deregulates, when my body fails me that surreal summer. She anchors me to the moment and the moment is all I can endure. She holds me as tightly as a person can be held in her heart. In her love for me, I am safe...

I am detached from my own eyes, hair, body, lungs, blood vessels. Sarah’s body becomes an acceptable version of what a body is, of my body. I am desperate, I am tethered, I am absent and yet wholly dependent on her right now, right here.

She mirrors the land of a body we trust and know. A body that is not about to have part of itself removed.

Sarah cares for me. About me. She loves me as I love and care for her. Yet here we are in a new dynamic where the word care is more than heart. She becomes the person who retells the doctor’s words because I am annihilated with shock. The person who moves the minutes of the day along as if all is safe, controllable.

Mel is a patient advocate for three lung cancer charities and this September she rode 37.5 miles with Sarah in Sir Chris Hoy's Tour De 4 cycle fundraiser. It’s fair to say that she is truly LIVING with lung cancer!


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