Michaela Grace Coy, a 32-year-old hairdresser from the Sunshine Coast, is battling a rare sinus cancer that has spread to her brain, with doctors giving her only weeks to live without treatment. The diagnosis came as a shock after she initially dismissed a tender lump near her nose as a pimple.
Her symptoms began with unusual facial soreness and increased exhaustion, which Coy attributed to her busy schedule. She worked four 10-hour shifts weekly as a senior stylist, seeing up to 13 clients daily. Outside the salon, she was a registered counselor, ran a mobile bridal hair and makeup business, volunteered at a horse shelter, served on a charity board, and was involved in various other activities.
When the lump appeared on July 2, Coy initially thought it was a blemish but decided to see a doctor due to tenderness. An ultrasound led to a CT scan, which revealed fractures in her nose and eye socket, despite no memory of any injury. Doctors suspected a blocked sinus or an abscess.
During surgery to address what was believed to be an infection, nothing was found to drain. As a precaution, a tissue sample was sent for analysis. Nearly two weeks later, Coy received a phone call confirming the presence of cancerous cells. Further scans revealed the aggressive disease had already infiltrated the front of her brain, making surgery too dangerous.
Her oncologist informed her that chemotherapy might extend her life by six to 12 months, while without treatment, she might only have weeks. Coy, initially hesitant about chemotherapy due to childhood memories of her grandmother's illness, decided to proceed after learning that treatments had improved and side effects could be managed.
Before starting treatment on August 24, Coy took 48 hours to organize her affairs and inform loved ones in person. She visited her grandparents, got her nails done, saw her horses, and spent time with friends. The first chemotherapy session was unexpectedly smooth, with only a sore arm as a side effect.
Coy has been overwhelmed by the support from friends, family, colleagues, and clients, with relatives flying in from overseas. She noted that receiving help has been an unfamiliar experience for her, as she was accustomed to being the giver. "I was so used to looking after myself and doing things for myself," she said. "I was the gift giver, so it's been really uncomfortable for me to accept so many gifts, and money, and food donations, and people dropping meals."
When Coy shared her diagnosis online, she intended to update acquaintances and spare herself repeated emotional conversations. However, the post generated hundreds of messages from people recalling small kindnesses she had extended, which she had largely forgotten. Coy, who has experience as a grief and loss counselor, is now focused on helping others and plans to leave funds at her counseling clinic to support therapy for those who cannot afford it. She finds comfort in realizing the extent to which she has touched others' lives, stating, "It makes me feel loved. Really, really loved. And I didn't realize I was that loved."