People Who Developed Stage 4 Cancer Without Realizing It Are Sharing Their Stories

Being diagnosed with cancer is one of the scariest things imaginable. But even scarier is the prospect of feeling fine, and then — all of a sudden and seemingly out of the blue — learning that you have stage 4 cancer and little chance of survival.

You might be thinking, how is that possible? Well, over on Quora, people experiencing this right now — as well as the loved ones of people who went through it — are sharing their powerful stories. And while it's a sad and emotional read, you just might learn something that could save your life one day. Take a look:

1. "My guy was getting tired a lot. 'Work,' we said (he was an auto mechanic and did a lot of manual labor). He started having tummy issues, so he went to the doctor, who said it was diverticulitis and that he should eat more fiber. No tests were done. Not even a blood test. The tummy issues continued, and he was still really tired. The doctor again told him to eat more fiber. Several months later, he started having breathing issues, and he still had tummy pains and was incredibly tired. The same doctor said it was adult-onset asthma. Eat more fiber. Here is an inhaler. Come back in two weeks if you still have breathing issues. Again, no tests."

"Not even two weeks later, his lung collapsed the night before my brother's funeral (which might explain why I wasn't connecting the dots. But in hindsight, I wish I hadn't been so fragmented between my brother, work, and such. But my guy was seen by a doctor!! Multiple times!! Still, shouldn't I have figured it out?)

Now, at the ER, he was barely able to breathe and in intense pain. After two days, he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer (that's why he had tummy issues), and it had spread to his liver and lung (which was why he had breathing issues/his lung collapsed). They said palliative care was all they could do. Huh? What does palliative even mean?! We researched. Surely, he had 5+ years left. But it was found way too late. It wouldn't be five years — it was less than two.

He wasn't 50, so his medical team didn't even think of colon cancer. They accused him of having a family history he didn't tell them about. There was no family history, though. It just happened. Not his fault.

He did chemo, but a year and a half later, at Christmas, he got a rash on his forehead. The cancer had spread to his brain. He had radiation and then finally colon surgery, which prolonged his life by a few months. It allowed final visits and arrangements to be possible. My guy died when he could not breathe any longer, even when connected to O2.

You tell me how no one noticed — not when it was stage 1, 2, or 3, not when it was in the liver and then the lungs. This is how. You notice; it just isn't diagnosed. Now, they recommend colonoscopies at 45. Colon cancer grows slowly but insidiously. Get your colonoscopy if you are 45+ and haven't yet. It can't wait."

—Carole K., Quora

2. "It truly does happen. My boyfriend had no idea he had cancer, let alone stage 4 lung cancer. He would be tired and fall asleep a lot, but he drove an hour one way to work and then back again each day. Plus, he was forced to work a lot of overtime hours, so we didn't think anything about it. He also had back pain, but he had a previous surgery, so we dismissed that, too. It wasn't until he had a stroke while at work that we found out."

"After the life squad took him to the hospital, the ER doctors showed us a big tumor in his lungs. They had ordered an X-ray of his heart, but the tumor in his lung showed up. Looking back, he did have a doctor tell him she saw a nodule on his lung X-ray about a year before this when he had the flu and was down sick for a couple of weeks. The doctor wanted to run a CT scan with contrast…but the INSURANCE COMPANY REFUSED…stating there was no prior reason to warrant it.

Insurance companies should have no right to play God. If they had approved the CT scan when the doctor ordered it, it might have saved his life. When we found out he was already in stage 4, it grew aggressively."

—Brenda A., Quora

3. "A girl in my high school AP chemistry class disappeared for a week. Her name was Summer. She was sweet, blonde, and beautiful — truly an all-American girl. I do not know a single person who didn't like her. She took all of my AP classes and had perfect grades. She was also on the varsity soccer team and really good. When she returned after her week-long absence, she stood in front of the class and made an announcement. She said, 'I have stage 4 rhabdomyosarcoma. I noticed a lump growing on my wrist last year, but I just thought it was a cyst. Lately, it's gotten slightly bigger, so I went to get it removed. They told me it was cancer.'"

"Everyone was shocked. She was only 15, a sophomore in high school. She was beautiful, healthy, and so athletic. How could it happen to her?

She wanted to announce it to the whole school because she just wanted it out there. She was going to do chemo and knew her hair would fall out. Knowing she would miss a lot of school and questions would be raised, she decided it was better to be completely upfront about it. Summer was determined to continue playing soccer as much as she could but knew she would have to miss weeks of it due to chemotherapy. She told everyone in our science class that her chance of survival was 20% to 30%, but she was optimistic.

She dyed her hair purple before it fell out just for fun, knowing she wouldn't have hair in the next couple of weeks. Though it was against school rules, our school, of course, made an exception.

Summer was strong, mentally. She got weaker and weaker but did her best to make it to as many soccer practices as possible. When she was at school, she always had a smile on her face. She tried to wear a wig, but it was so scratchy that she decided to go bald instead. Summer looked beautiful regardless. With everything she was going through, she still kept up with her schoolwork.

Summer graduated high school and then enrolled in Dartmouth in the midst of her battle. Though it was stage 4 and the survival rate for her risk group was low, Summer beat her cancer her freshman year of college. She was victorious, and her Facebook post declaring her victory filled with likes. Our whole high school had been rooting for her and had several fundraising events to raise money for her procedures. Her new sorority had supported her through her first year of college as well. She had won a battle most of us had never had to face.

However, that wasn't the end. Four years after her victory, another announcement came on Facebook.

'Four years after my remission, they have found cancerous tumors all over my body. I'll be starting my battle again.'

Two weeks after that, she was gone.

After such a long battle, and four years of stability and health, she went just like that. Cancer strikes suddenly, viciously, and without warning. Her family and friends were devastated. Nobody thought it could happen to someone so young, vivacious, and full of promise. She had been strong for so long.

Summer's mom started a foundation called Summer's Way after her death to find a cure for rhabdomyosarcoma. If you'd like to check it out, it's Home | Summer's Way Foundation."

—Charissa E., Quora

4. "My mother went into the hospital on March 6, thinking she needed to have her gallbladder removed. She was dead on March 25. She had breast cancer that metastasized to her lymph nodes, bones, and lungs and totally destroyed her liver. She had no clue about any of it. She was fine until a few days before she went to the hospital. Had she not gone to the hospital because of our begging as a family, she would’ve died without knowing. She was severely depressed, and we thought all the symptoms she had — the fatigue, the brain fog — were just a byproduct of her depression."

"She was 59, and it hit us out of nowhere. It took her 19 days from diagnosis to death. It scares me so much because it happened so fast when, in reality, this cancer was cooking inside of her for probably the last two to three years. It was so quiet and sneaky. The ironic thing was that the type of breast cancer she had is considered easily treatable, with a phenomenal 98% five-year survival rate. 

I guess what I’m trying to say is that most cancers are quiet and sneaky. And you don’t know it’s too late until the pain starts. So get your scans, your mammograms, ask your doctors for screenings. Lie and say you have a family history, but do whatever you have to do and get yourself checked as often as possible. Live a relatively healthy lifestyle and listen to your body."

—Chelsea W., Quora

5. "I was recently diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to all of my organs over the last 13 years. The cancer wasn't found until I had a random, routine blood test done as I was just having my 52nd birthday. The following day, while working as a care aide, I received a panicked call from my doctor saying that I needed to go to emergency immediately, needing a blood transfusion. My oxygen levels were 70, which should have been much higher, and I was septic. I felt fine and was working, but I agreed to go in the morning. Well, needless to say, afterward, I needed a colposcopy. Sure enough, cancer. I was then sent for an emergency scan, and to the shock of everyone, my body was full of cancer. Surgery and radiation were out of the question. I had a tumor in my colon and cancer all over both kidneys (looking like paint splatter), but worst of all, there was a tumor taking over 67% of my liver."

"How was this possible? Well, it hid under the umbrella of anemia for the last 13 years. Now, instead of celebrating a birthday, I'm preparing for the end of life and taking palliative chemo, but I'm still fighting with all I've got!! I wish I were still working, but I guess fighting for your life and trying to stay positive is a job in itself. All the best to all going through their own personal cancer journey."

—Traci, Quora

6. "As a 32-year-old single mother working full time and going to school full time, I thought my exhaustion was because of all the above. I had unusual symptoms but kept pushing them off. Finally, I went to the clinic on campus, and the next day, the doctor called with the result and told me to have a friend take me to the hospital. I went there, tests were repeated, and an ambulance was called to rush me to an ICU in the city with a bone marrow oncology team. I was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia."

"I had been joking with friends that my period was going to kill me because it was so awful and unrelenting. The doctors said, 'No, you really only had another night or two left before you would have bled out and passed in your sleep. If not from the period, another form of internal bleeding would have gotten me. My platelets were, I think, like, 2,000. My hematocrit and hemoglobin were bottomed out, and my absolute neutrophil count was under 500/undetectable.

Since my illness, I've seen stories of others, especially younger people, who experienced the same thing and either passed (finding out later through an autopsy that they had acute myeloid leukemia) or barely pulled through the initial diagnostic crises to either pass during treatment or through later complications. I'm a decade out from all of this. Sept. 19, 2014 was when I went into the hospital. It's bittersweet because I survived, but I'm a shell of my old self. The illness/treatments disabled me, and I've lost everything I had worked so hard for. Even my teen son's father and wealthy fiancée have won him over — I can't compete. That's off-topic, but honestly, it might as well have taken me physically because it killed me otherwise; I'm just still here. I fought to be disabled and miserable.

Sorry for the side tangent at the end, but it's coming up on a decade anniversary since this all started and it has me in an awful place mentally."

—Jennifer H., Quora

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7. "My mom, at age 55, went to the hospital when she saw blood in her stool. She was diagnosed with leukemia that day and died two weeks later. They attempted to give her two intense rounds of chemo, and she did not react well. Her temperature shot up to 106, and then her organs failed in the ICU. Before the trip to the ER, she never had any other symptoms or side effects that told her something was wrong. It hit us in the face real hard — came out of nowhere. No one is to blame, but we all wonder that if we adults just went in for a blood exam and checkup every other year or so, how many more people would catch cancer before it’s too late? My mother hadn’t been to the doctor in years. She never had a reason to go."

—Lauren M., Quora

8. "My stepson, aged 49, was having trouble swallowing. While waiting (several months) for him to have a biopsy, he developed an acute case of appendicitis and needed emergency surgery. While studying his post-surgery X-ray, the doctor discovered a growth on his spine, a biopsy of which turned out to be malignant, stage 4 cancer. This was discovered in early December. He passed away two months later with no warning. On Monday, he was home, up and walking, had some shortness of breath, went to the ER, and passed away in less than 48 hours. An autopsy revealed the cancer had spread throughout his body — lungs, stomach, back, everywhere. It was such a sudden and incredibly sad loss. He passed in early 2022. Perhaps if COVID hadn’t been going on when he first had the sore throat, he could’ve been seen earlier and treated sooner, giving us more time with him, but I doubt it."

—Diana W., Quora

9. "My husband, who complained of acid reflux, went to a doctor who gave him treatment for acidity. When there was no change for the better in 15 days, the doctor referred him to a gastro specialist. They then took a scan and found that his esophagus was constricted. They said that an endoscopic stent needs to be placed. For this, they needed a PET scan. When they did this, we got to know that he had cancer of the esophagus. Even worse news, it had metastasized and spread to other organs in the body — stomach, lungs, lymph nodes, etc. All this time, he had absolutely no pain, and his only symptom was that he couldn't eat much."

"The stent was placed and the chemotherapy started, but we couldn't do much for him. He passed away before the second chemo. From the time we got to know it was cancer, it was barely 45 days. And all this time, except the last three days, he had absolutely no pain. In the last three days, he couldn't breathe as his lungs were not functioning. Who would dream of cancer when someone complains of acid reflux? Not even the doctor."

—Gamma A., Quora

10. "My sister struggled to get pregnant for years, experiencing numerous miscarriages. On the day she and her husband married, they learned they were pregnant — a truly perfect and beautiful day for all. This pregnancy broke what seemed like an endless cycle of happiness, discomfort, and eventual miscarriage. Nine months later, she gave birth to a beautiful little girl. After numerous tries to get her baby to latch on and nurse, that magical moment occurred, and breastfeeding became an enjoyable bonding experience for all. This joy was short-lived. After a few weeks, her daughter refused to nurse. Numerous visits to doctors and lactation experts failed to determine the reasons. Mom seemed healthy, and the baby was thriving, but changes in diet and other tactics failed, and my sister's milk dried up."

"During the last weeks of her pregnancy, my sister had noticed a small bump on her nipple. She showed her doctor and they took some X-rays, which showed nothing but a pregnant woman's normal breast

Shortly after her daughter stopped nursing, the bump changed; not drastically, it just seemed a little bigger. Her OB/GYN felt it was nothing, but they would monitor it. If it changed in any way, they would do a biopsy. The doctor convinced my sister to stop worrying and focus on the joys of motherhood.

Almost a year passed without change, and the bump was forgotten in the craziness of being a working mom. Then, one afternoon, everything changed — literally overnight. My sister had a sense that something was off, physically and mentally. Within hours, she went from changing diapers, working full time, and being a wife, mother, sister, and friend to becoming a woman fighting for her life — a woman trying to buy enough time so that science could find a cure so she could live to see her daughter grow up, go to college, marry, and eventually start her own family.

But it wasn't meant to be. Numerous rounds of genetic testing revealed that she not only carried the genetic marker for breast cancer but also ovarian cancer. Ever the optimist, my sister went to war on cancer, constantly researching options, experimental protocols, etc. She had a double oophorectomy (removal of both ovaries) and both breasts removed. The doctors advised removing lymph nodes that could be cancerous in the future, but my sister weighed the odds and decided it wasn't necessary because with surgery and aggressive treatments, she would be cancer-free and could resume her old life. That would be another poor decision, beginning a chain reaction that ended her life.

My sister and her husband believed that they had triumphed over cancer and went back to raising their family. But it was already too late. As her body began to heal and her hair started to grow, the cancer was silently metastasizing to her lungs, muscles, brain, liver, and pancreas. All the while everyone was living in an idyllic bubble of a cancer-free world.

Beginning to experience excruciating headaches, muscle soreness, and the odd sensation of feeling off, my sister made arrangements to meet her doctor at the hospital as soon as she got off a plane from a family vacation. That drive from the airport to the hospital was the last time she would feel the warmth of the sun, the gentle breeze of an Indian summer, and see her daughter playing in piles of leaves on the hospital grounds.

Within days, it became apparent that my sister had never been cancer-free. She did not win the battle or the war. Instead, a series of miscalculations and uneducated choices in the early stages doomed her before she even began the fight.

Even until those final precious days, the family continued to hold on to the notion that she would beat cancer once again. But she had never beaten it, and she never would. She and her husband pushed frantically for options, experimental drugs, and procedures to buy a little more time. The cure was just around the corner — if she could hold on long enough, she would see her daughter grow up. She refused to discuss making arrangements for her daughter after she passed. She refused to tell her daughter, her husband, and herself that she was dying. She spent her final days filling composition books with notes for experimental treatments and holistic healing and plans to begin to help her body heal once again. Only on what would be her final day did she write out and eventually dictate all the stories, advice, memories, and things that she would never have the opportunity to say out loud and in person.

She only acknowledged once that she understood that cancer would win. Before closing her eyes to take a short nap, she asked her husband if she had fought enough and could take a break from the battle. For her, the battle ended a few hours later. There was no more pain, no more fear, and no more fighting. She was finally at peace.

As time slowly passed and loved ones and friends shared their final goodbyes, her mother and sister-in-law discussed the need to reschedule appointments with the OB/GYN they shared. This was the same doctor who had advocated the wait-and-see approach and downplayed her nagging thoughts that something was wrong. One can only hope that they will not be the next patients diagnosed with stage 4/terminal cancer — healthy and pain-free on the outside but dying inside.
My sister's battle with cancer is a prime example of how, in an instant, one goes overnight from being the poster child of a healthy woman in her early 40s to knowing that, at best, you only have days to make a lifetime of memories, hoping that the child you so dearly loved and treasured will remember her beautiful, smart, and funny mommy.

One final note: When doctors did the mastectomy and sent out samples to confirm the diagnosis, they determined that the minuscule bump that caused the baby to reject breastfeeding was the core of the cancer that would take her mother's life. This was just another 'What if?'; one of several lost opportunities to end the war before it began."

—Colleen A.C., Quora