Facing the Inevitable: A Former Mayor's Profound Journey Towards Life's End
It's a conversation that touches us all, yet is rarely spoken of with such grace and clarity. For many in the Lismore community, the name Jenny Dowell resonates with leadership and dedication. Now, as she navigates the final chapter of her life, Jenny is sharing her deeply personal story, offering a unique perspective on facing mortality with courage and intention.
Imagine, if you will, the quiet serenity of a veranda in Goonellabah, a backyard bursting with life in the form of trees, plants, and flowers, serving as the backdrop for an extraordinary conversation. This was the setting for a recent interview where Jenny Dowell, former Mayor of Lismore, opened up about her journey, a journey that began with a breast cancer diagnosis just days after taking office in 2008. Fast forward to today, and she finds herself on a terminal path, a stark contrast to the 17 years of apparent recovery she experienced.
For over a decade and a half, Jenny believed she had triumphed over cancer. Regular check-ups and a lack of any alarming signs led her to a state of what she calls "blissful ignorance." Little did she know, undetectable cells had quietly spread, lying dormant in her spine and pelvis. But here's where it gets controversial... how can something so insidious remain hidden for so long, only to resurface with such devastating impact?
Last May, a seemingly minor incident – a twinge in her back after a bushwalk – led to scans that revealed the unthinkable: incurable cancer in her spine and pelvis. The news, as Jenny describes it, "hit me like a ton of bricks."
Initially, a new hormone-blocking treatment was prescribed, but the side effects were so severe – terrible nausea, shocking fatigue, a complete loss of appetite, and significant weight loss – that her quality of life plummeted. She was, in her words, "barely functioning." Faced with a prognosis of possibly 12 months, or even just six, Jenny made a profound choice. And this is the part most people miss... she prioritized quality of life over quantity. "All of a sudden you're going, what sort of life do I want? Weighing up quality versus quantity. And I would always choose quality," she explained.
By January 2026, with scan results still inconclusive but her desire for a life free from debilitating treatment paramount, Jenny made the decisive call to stop treatment. Her focus shifted to managing her pain and finding peace. She has since initiated the process for voluntary assisted dying (VAD) under New South Wales legislation. This process, requiring two independent medical assessments to confirm her mental capacity and prognosis, has so far been a smooth "tick, tick." Jenny is thoughtfully considering the two available pathways: doctor-administered medication for a quicker result (though with a doctor present) or self-administered medication, which offers more privacy but requires the physical ability to ingest it. She's leaning towards the latter, a decision that speaks volumes about her desire for autonomy.
Her family – her husband Ron and their two adult children – have been her unwavering rock. "We're very open," she shares, emphasizing that "nothing's off limits." This universal support, she acknowledges, is a privilege, as many face resistance from loved ones during such times. What do you think about the importance of open communication with family during end-of-life decisions? Does your family have similar open discussions?
Instead of fear, Jenny expresses deep gratitude for the 17 years she had between diagnoses, calling them "the best 17 years of my public life." At 75, she feels "satisfied… I wouldn’t change anything."
As her pain increases, Jenny employs daily mindfulness rituals, a simple yet powerful practice of focusing on her senses to stay grounded in the present moment. "I’m not a religious person," she admits, "but I have my moments of reflection and being in the moment."
Remarkably, Jenny has also taken on the rare opportunity to plan her own funeral, writing her eulogy and gifting treasured possessions. The luxury of having the opportunity to gift things now… feels good.
When asked about her legacy, her answer is beautifully simple: "That I cared… that I always had time to listen."
Her heartfelt gratitude extends to her community: "Lismore is my soul place… You’ve given me my soul place, and I’ve loved every minute of it. So thank you."
Jenny Dowell's full interview offers a profound and emotional depth that goes beyond what can be captured here. While some may find her story confronting, and others may disagree with her choices, her strength and her willingness to share her end-of-life journey to help others are undeniably admirable. Do you believe individuals should have the right to plan their own end-of-life care? Share your thoughts below – we'd love to hear your perspective.
