Young dad's bowel cancer diagnosis delayed by age bias, warns against dismissing symptoms

Mathew endured major bowel surgery and six months of chemotherapy, experiencing severe neuropathy pain and ongoing physical complications that persist daily.
Don't let anyone dismiss it because of your age. If I had ignored it any longer, it could have been too late.
Mathew Duggan warns younger people not to accept age-based reassurance when experiencing persistent digestive symptoms.

In the quiet arithmetic of a young life — a daughter, a career, the ordinary forward motion of thirty-six — Mathew Duggan's body interrupted with a message his doctor was not prepared to hear. Age, that blunt instrument of medical assumption, delayed his bowel cancer diagnosis long enough for a ten-centimetre tumour to establish itself unchallenged. His story joins a growing body of evidence that bowel cancer is no longer the exclusive province of the elderly, and that the cost of outdated assumptions is measured in surgeries, in suffering, and sometimes in lives.

  • A fit, healthy 36-year-old's persistent symptoms were waved away as haemorrhoids and food poisoning — until a colonoscopy revealed an advanced tumour that should have been caught far sooner.
  • Bowel cancer is now the leading cancer killer of Australians aged 25–34, yet the 'older person's disease' assumption continues to shield younger patients from timely investigation.
  • Mathew endured major bowel surgery and six months of chemotherapy, with neuropathy so agonising he described wanting to amputate his own feet — a suffering compounded by a delay that should never have happened.
  • Isolated by stigma and self-blame, he kept his diagnosis secret from nearly everyone until peer support groups revealed he was far from alone in this demographic.
  • Medical specialists are now calling on younger patients to advocate loudly for themselves when persistent digestive changes arise, refusing to accept age as a reason for dismissal.

Mathew Duggan was 36 when his bowel habits changed without explanation. Weeks of diarrhoea gave way to pain and blood, but when he finally saw his GP, reassurance came swiftly — haemorrhoids, perhaps polyps, nothing alarming for a fit young man with no family history. Cancer was not on the table. The colonoscopy told a different story: a ten-centimetre tumour, already well established. The same doctor later apologised, acknowledging the diagnosis should never have been delayed.

The news broke across the ordinary structure of his life — his work, his three-year-old daughter, the assumption that cancer was something that happened to older people. Surgery in May 2024 removed part of his bowel. Six months of chemotherapy followed. The neuropathy that developed in his feet became the worst pain of his life — stabbing, burning, relentless — some days leaving him unable to walk from his bed to the kitchen.

He kept the diagnosis almost entirely secret at first, telling only his parents and wife. Part of him felt a strange, misplaced guilt. He didn't know anyone his age with bowel cancer. It felt like a disease that had arrived at the wrong address. It was only through support groups and Bowel Cancer Australia that he discovered others his age navigating the same experience — a realisation that eased something in him.

The statistics have been shifting for years, even as medical culture has not fully caught up. Bowel cancer is now the deadliest cancer for Australians aged 25 to 34 and the second-leading cause of cancer death for those aged 25 to 49. Specialists are urging younger people to push for investigation when digestive symptoms persist, regardless of what they are told about their age.

Mathew's chemotherapy has ended, but the neuropathy remains. He has overhauled his diet and tries to live forward rather than spiral into fear of recurrence. His message is plain: the body signals when something is wrong. Do not wait. Do not allow age to be used as a reason to look away.

Mathew Duggan was 36 when his body started sending signals he couldn't ignore. In February 2024, his bowel habits shifted. Diarrhoea set in and lingered for weeks. He assumed it was food poisoning—he'd had something similar years before, after eating raw chicken as a teenager. The kind of thing that passes. But this didn't pass. Pain arrived next, then blood in his stool. Only then did he call his doctor.

The reassurance came quickly and with confidence: nothing serious. His age worked against him. The GP suggested haemorrhoids or polyps—the safe diagnoses for a fit, healthy 36-year-old with no family history of cancer. Cancer wasn't even considered. But the colonoscopy that followed revealed what the initial assessment had missed: a 10-centimetre tumour already established in his bowel. The same doctor who had told him not to worry later apologised, admitting the diagnosis should never have been delayed.

For Mathew, the news fractured everything. He was focused on work, on his three-year-old daughter, on the ordinary architecture of a young life. Cancer was something that happened to other people—older people. He underwent major surgery in May 2024 to remove part of his bowel, followed by six months of chemotherapy. The surgery was frightening. The chemotherapy was something else entirely. The neuropathy in his feet became so severe he described wanting to amputate both legs. The pain was constant—stabbing, burning, pins and needles that made it impossible to walk from his bed to the kitchen. Some days he couldn't work. He called it the worst pain of his life.

He kept the diagnosis hidden at first. Only his parents and wife knew. He didn't want his life to change, didn't want the weight of other people's concern, didn't want to be seen differently. At work, he told only a couple of colleagues. Part of him blamed himself. He didn't know anyone his age with bowel cancer. It felt like something that wasn't supposed to happen to him. But as treatment progressed, he found his way to support groups and information from Bowel Cancer Australia. He discovered he wasn't alone. There were others his age facing the same nightmare. That discovery lifted something.

The medical establishment has long described bowel cancer as a disease of the elderly. The statistics tell a different story. Cases in Australians under 50 have been climbing steadily. Bowel cancer is now the deadliest cancer for people aged 25 to 34 and the second-leading cause of cancer death for those aged 25 to 49. Many younger patients, like Mathew, are initially dismissed by their GPs because of their age, allowing the disease to advance before diagnosis arrives. Specialists are now urging younger people to push for screening if they notice persistent changes to digestion, bowel habits, or blood in the stool—even when told they're too young to worry.

Today, Mathew lives with the aftermath. The chemotherapy has ended, but the neuropathy in his feet remains, a daily reminder of what he endured. His diet has shifted—red meat and ultra-processed foods are gone, replaced by whole, simple meals. It's partly about health, partly about reclaiming some sense of control after months when treatment stripped that away. He doesn't go a day without thinking about cancer. But he tries to channel that into living better rather than spiralling into what-ifs. Ahead lie regular scans and check-ups, and the persistent fear of recurrence. His message to others is unambiguous: your body tells you when something's wrong. Don't wait. Don't let anyone dismiss it because of your age. If he had ignored it any longer, it could have been too late.

Because of my age, I was told it would probably just be haemorrhoids or polyps. Cancer wasn't on the radar.
— Mathew Duggan
The neuropathy in my feet got so bad that there were times I wanted to cut both my legs off. It felt like someone stabbing the bottoms of my feet constantly.
— Mathew Duggan
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Inventor

Why do you think your doctor was so confident it wasn't cancer?

Model

Age is a powerful filter. Bowel cancer has this reputation as an older person's disease, so when a 36-year-old walks in with digestive symptoms, the mind goes to haemorrhoids or food poisoning first. It's pattern-matching based on incomplete data.

Inventor

Did you suspect it was serious before the colonoscopy?

Model

No. I thought I was being cautious by calling the doctor at all. When he said it was probably nothing, I believed him. I had no reason not to. I was fit, healthy, no family history. Everything pointed away from cancer.

Inventor

The chemotherapy sounds like it was harder than the surgery itself.

Model

Infinitely harder. Surgery is a single event. You go in, it's done, you recover. Chemotherapy is six months of your body being systematically poisoned to kill the cancer cells. The neuropathy was unbearable—I couldn't walk, couldn't work some days. It's a different kind of suffering.

Inventor

You kept it secret from most people. Why was that important?

Model

I didn't want cancer to become my identity. I didn't want to be the guy everyone felt sorry for. I wanted to keep some part of my life normal, untouched by it. Looking back, I think I was also ashamed—like I'd done something wrong to deserve it.

Inventor

What changed when you found the support groups?

Model

Suddenly I wasn't alone in this. There were other people my age going through the same thing. That sounds simple, but it was everything. It meant I wasn't broken or unlucky in some unique way. It was a real problem affecting real people, and we could talk about it.

Inventor

What do you want younger people to hear from your story?

Model

Don't dismiss your body. Don't let anyone else dismiss it either, no matter how old you are. If something feels wrong, push for answers. Age is not a shield against cancer. It's just a number that doctors sometimes use to avoid looking deeper.

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