Krystal Barter

I am climbing for rare

Last year my dad, Mark, was diagnosed with kidney cancer and bowel cancer at the same time.

Even writing that still feels surreal.

Both cancers are common on their own. But two separate primary cancers together is incredibly rare. When we first got the news, everything moved very quickly. Surgery was imminent. Conversations were heavy “intensive care, two surgeries at the same time”. My mum was trying to take in information no one ever wants to hear.

The first person I called was Christine from Rare Cancers Australia. I didn’t call as an advocate or someone working in health. I called as a daughter. Their team made time straight away, not just for me, but for Mum. They listened. They helped us understand what we were facing. They gave us clarity in a moment that felt chaotic.

Since then, Dad has been in and out of hospital. More scans. More tests. More procedures. Obstructions. Complications. The kind of things families quietly deal with while trying to keep life moving. His prognosis is positive, and we are so grateful for that, but cancer doesn’t just disappear after surgery. It lingers in appointments, in follow-ups, in the constant waiting.

Dad has always been the steady one. The provider. The calm in the room. The best dad you could ask for. Watching him navigate this with strength and stubborn optimism, has been humbling.

For my whole life, one side of our family hadn’t been touched by cancer. Last year that changed. And we’re not alone. Another close family member is now facing a double cancer diagnosis as well. Cancer is common. Our story isn’t rare in that sense. What is rare is when two primary cancers collide in one person.

That’s why I’m fundraising for Rare Cancers Australia through the Kosi Challenge.

Because when diagnoses are complex, when families are overwhelmed, when the path isn’t straightforward, organisations like this step in. They advocate. They guide. They support. They sit with families in the hard moments.

Last year tested our family in ways we didn’t expect. I’m hopeful that this year brings steadier ground for Dad and Mum. And I’m asking, if you’re in a position to, to donate in honour of my dad and in honour of every family quietly navigating cancer right now.

Support matters more than we realise until we’re the ones who need it.

Thank you for being part of that support