I was 42 when I was diagnosed with bowel cancer. No family history. No dramatic symptoms, just a bad tummy and feeling super tired. I put it down to working too hard or having IBS – and let’s be honest, I had been burning the candle at both ends after a hectic summer and Pride season. I was about to start a new job, full of excitement and nerves. Then, after I’d put off going to the doctor one too many times, everything changed.
I was diagnosed with stage 3 in October 2024, and the tumour was large and aggressive. My treatment plan moved very quickly, and I started receiving immunotherapy every three weeks. It was at this point that I felt I had lost control of my life, which became an endless stream of visits to the hospital, test results, treatment and scans. Despite this, the immunotherapy worked well, and I eventually had surgery in late March 2025. I didn’t know at the time how much I would learn about my body, my identity, and the systems we rely on to keep us safe.
I’ve always been super vigilant about my health. Growing up in the 80s and 90s and realising I was gay, I guess I was conditioned that way. But I never considered cancer, especially not in my early 40s. To say I was shocked was an understatement.
My healthcare team was exceptional, welcoming me and my partner, Harry, with open arms. They are always respectful and kind and never once made me feel anything other than cared for. But even with that support, I couldn’t help noticing how much of the wider system just isn’t designed with people like me in mind.
The forms and booklets I were given were very much targeted at heterosexual relationships and cisgender identities. The leaflets assumed I had or would have children and used language and examples that didn’t reflect my life. And in moments where you already feel vulnerable, those small things can really land.
That changed when I found OutPatients.
OutPatients is a UK-based organisation that supports LGBTQ+ people with cancer. It was the first time in this experience that I felt comfortable being myself, not squeezed into a tick box, but as a gay man navigating illness with all the nuance, humour, fear, and love that comes with it.
“OutPatients offered more than solidarity, they gave me tools, guidance, and community. It’s hard to describe how much that means when so much else feels out of your control.”
Daniel Edwards
I joined one of their peer support sessions and immediately felt something shift. I didn’t have to explain or translate myself. Everyone there understood the emotional weight of feeling slightly outside the norm, that your identity can shape how you experience illness and the deep need to connect with others who’ve been through the same.
OutPatients offered more than solidarity, they gave me tools, guidance, and community. It’s hard to describe how much that means when so much else feels out of your control.
After my surgery, I received the incredible news that I wouldn’t need any more treatment. A few weeks later, Harry proposed while we were on holiday. I said yes without hesitation. When you’ve faced something like cancer, you stop putting off joy. That moment was a turning point for me, not the end of something, but a beginning.
Even now, cancer isn’t something I feel completely past. There’s fatigue, fear and questions that never fully go away. But there’s also clarity about what matters, who I am, and the kind of world I want to help build.
That’s how Silly Bowel Disco came to life. Me and my friend DJ Helly Heart already ran Silly B!tch Disco – which is all about camp, judgement-free joy – so giving it a bowel-based makeover for one night felt like the perfect way to give back. It’s going to be a loud, confetti-filled fundraiser in support of OutPatients and Macmillan. We’ve got performances from 00s girl group Supersister as well as a celebrity toilet seat raffle hosted by Gareth from Hunsnet and Diane from the Traitors. There will be drag, joy and lots of dancing – and it’s all happening on 11th July at Bethnal Green Working Mens Club.
For me, though, it is about reclaiming the time I lost from having cancer. So many people will appreciate that feeling of helplessness, of putting your life on hold, whether health related or not. It is all-consuming and suffocating. So now that I can, I want to get back out there, raise money for the people who helped me through it, and celebrate the kind of love and community that carries us when we need it most.
OutPatients continues to be a lifeline for so many LGBTQ+ people navigating cancer. They’re pushing for better research, more inclusive care, and a future where nobody should feel invisible in the system. If you’re LGBTQ+ and facing cancer, whether you’re in treatment, recovering, or just trying to make sense of it, OutPatients is here for you. You can find them at www.outpatients.org.uk or on Instagram at @outpatients_uk.
I didn’t expect cancer to be part of my story. But it is. And thanks to OutPatients, Macmillan, my medical team, and the people I love, I’ve come through it feeling more seen, more supported, and more determined than ever to live fully – and loudly!
Silly Bowel Disco is on 11 July 2025, 9pm–2am, at Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club, 42-46 Pollard Row, London E2 6NB, United Kingdom.
Photo credit: @dj.dallyn @sillybtchdisco
Bio
Daniel Edwards (DJ Dallyn) (he/him) is a London-based gay DJ who had bowel cancer and is an advocate for LGBTQ+ inclusion in healthcare. Diagnosed at 42 with stage 3 bowel cancer, he was treated with immunotherapy and surgery. A DJ and promoter for over five years, he’s played many venues, including Heaven, The Eagle and The Clapham Grand and co-runs Silly B!tch Disco with DJ Helly Heart.
