A Former Mayor's Poignant Journey: Facing Life's Final Chapter with Unwavering Grace.
For many in Lismore, the name Jenny Dowell resonates with leadership and community spirit. Now, as she navigates the profound journey towards the end of her life, her story is touching hearts and sparking important conversations. Recently, I had the privilege of sitting with Jenny at her beautiful Goonellabah home, a sanctuary filled with the vibrant life of trees, plants, and flowers, to hear her remarkable story firsthand for the Talking Lismore podcast.
This deeply personal conversation dives into Jenny's courageous path, from her initial breast cancer diagnosis just days after becoming the Mayor of Lismore in 2008, to her current terminal cancer diagnosis. She candidly shares her decision to pursue voluntary assisted dying (VAD) and the profound sense of peace she has discovered in thoughtfully planning her final moments.
But here's where it gets truly striking: After successfully battling breast cancer 17 years ago, Jenny believed she had definitively overcome the disease. Routine check-ups and tests showed no signs of recurrence. She describes this period as "17 years of blissful ignorance," unaware that microscopic cancer cells had silently spread to her spine and pelvis.
Last May, following an invigorating week-long bushwalk, Jenny experienced a back injury while helping a friend. When the persistent pain didn't subside, a doctor's visit and subsequent scans revealed the devastating truth: incurable cancer in her spine and pelvis. "It hit me like a ton of bricks," Jenny recounted.
Initially, Jenny began a new hormone-blocking treatment, but the side effects were severe. She described "terrible nausea, shocking fatigue, no appetite," leading to significant weight loss and leaving her barely able to function. Food lost its appeal, and even the smell of cooking became unbearable. Facing a prognosis of potentially only six to twelve months, Jenny made a powerful choice: to prioritize 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 with conviction.
In January 2026, after scan results offered no clear path forward, Jenny made the decisive call to cease treatment. "That’s it. I’m stopping. I just want to have my pain relief," she stated, embracing a simpler focus on comfort.
Jenny has since initiated the process for VAD under New South Wales legislation. This involves two independent medical assessments to confirm her mental capacity and prognosis, a process she confirms has been straightforward so far. She speaks with remarkable openness about the two VAD pathways: doctor-administered medication for a quicker result, or self-administered medication. The latter requires the individual to be physically capable of ingesting the medication themselves, offering more privacy with only family present. Jenny is leaning towards the self-administered option, though the final decision is not yet set in stone.
And this is the part most people miss: Jenny's family has been an incredible source of strength and support. "We’re very open," she shared about her husband Ron and their two adult children. "Nothing’s off limits." She feels immense gratitude for their universal support, acknowledging that many face significant resistance from loved ones during such times. "I’m lucky. I don’t have that. I have everyone around me."
Rather than dwelling on fear, Jenny expresses profound gratitude. Reflecting on the 17 years she lived unknowingly with spreading cancer, she cherishes them as "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 practice of focusing on her senses: five things she can see, four things she can hear, three things she can feel, two things she can smell, and one thing she can taste. This two-minute exercise helps her feel calm and present. "I’m not a religious person," she notes, "but I have my moments of reflection and being in the moment."
Jenny has also undertaken the unique task of planning her own funeral, writing her eulogy and gifting cherished possessions. "The luxury of having the opportunity to gift things now… feels good," she says.
When asked about her legacy, Jenny's answer is beautifully simple: "That I cared… that I always had time to listen."
Her closing words are a heartfelt tribute 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 wealth of detail and emotion, providing a deeply personal perspective on end-of-life choices. While some may find her story confronting, and not everyone will agree with her decisions, her strength and her selfless act of sharing her journey to help others are truly admirable.
What are your thoughts on Jenny's approach to planning her final chapter? Do you believe open conversations about end-of-life care are crucial for individuals and their families? Share your agreement or disagreement in the comments below!
