I was 35 years old—a teacher in the Cowichan area, a wife, and a mother to a spirited two-year-old named Sierra. Life was full and beautiful. We were ready to grow our family. I felt healthy. I had no pain, no symptoms. Just hope. But life can change in an instant.
What began as a routine conversation with my doctor about fertility quickly became something more. Some hormone levels looked off. I was referred to a gynecologist who suspected endometriosis. Cancer wasn’t even part of the conversation.
Still, a quiet fear followed me into Victoria General Hospital, our Island’s women’s health centre, on the morning of what was supposed to be a simple laparoscopic procedure in 2013. I tried to silence it—but it was there.
I lay in the hospital bed, frozen with anxiety, waiting to be wheeled into the OR. That’s when Gynecologic Oncologist Dr. Mona Mazgani walked in. She took my hand, looked directly into my eyes, and said words I will never forget:
“I’ve got this. And I’ve got you.”
Those words carried me. They didn’t erase the fear—but they gave me something just as powerful: the feeling that I wasn’t alone.
When I woke up from surgery, my husband Darian was sitting beside me. I could tell something was wrong. He asked gently, “Do you know?” I didn’t. “It was cancer,” he said. “Stage 3 ovarian cancer. Dr. Mazgani had to perform a complete hysterectomy. She removed your uterus, your ovaries, your lymph nodes, and even growths she found on top.”
I was in shock. I thought I would wake up with a path forward for treating endometriosis. Maybe even a plan to help us conceive again. Instead, I woke up in a new reality—one where the future I imagined for our family was suddenly gone. My heart broke. For Sierra, who would never have the sibling we had dreamed of. For the future I had counted on. For all the moments that would now look different.
Looking back, I sometimes think the universe was trying to warn me. Cancer was in the background: TV ads, magazine stories, headlines I couldn’t seem to escape. Still, nothing truly prepares you for the moment your life is forever changed.
What I do know is this: I survived that experience because of Dr. Mazgani. She had the skill, the experience, and— just as importantly—the equipment she needed to act decisively and save my life. She didn’t just perform a surgery. She fought for me.
For the next five years, I saw Dr. Mazgani regularly. Through follow-ups, scans, and tests, she never left my side. Even now, cancer isn’t fully behind me. Just this past year, I’ve had three Pap tests to monitor my health. That fear I carried into the hospital that day still lingers. But so does the strength she gave me.
I call Dr. Mazgani my guardian angel. Because that’s who she is to me. And that’s why I’m sharing my story with you. For the next woman who walks into that hospital unaware that cancer is already growing inside her. For the mother with dreams of expanding her family. For the daughter, sister, friend who may one day need someone to look her in the eye and say, “I’ve got you.” I want her to have the best care—and the best equipment possible here at Victoria General Hospital.
It is so essential that we focus on women’s health—and I am so grateful for the platform of this campaign to do so. Every Island woman deserves to hear the words—“I’ve got this. And I’ve got you.”—when her world is turned upside down.
Our expert surgeons at Victoria General Hospital are a gift. Equipping them with best- in-class technology is a true gift, too.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
