Dealing with cancer can be lonely and isolating.
But screenwriter Ali Spuck is discovering ways to find joy and meaning during what has become a nearly seven-year journey with metastatic colon cancer. Even as she endures grueling chemotherapy treatments that leave her stuck in bed for days at a time, Spuck is determined to, as she puts it, “fully inhabit” her life.
For the 50-year-old mother of two, this means continuing to have adventures with her 12- and 14-year-old daughters, throwing herself a New Wave-themed birthday dance party, and inspiring others by sharing her story at events around Los Angeles.
“It’s soul-healing for me to feel like I’m doing something larger than myself, especially with what I’ve been handed,” Spuck says.
The surprising diagnosis
Spuck was 43 years old when she was diagnosed in 2018, still years away from 50, when health experts at the time advised Americans to begin regular colorectal cancer screening. In 2021, the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force, which makes national recommendations for preventive screenings based on the latest science, adjusted the guideline, advising screening for colorectal cancer to begin at age 45.
Colorectal cancer is the leading cause of cancer death in men younger than 50 and the second in women (breast cancer is first) in that age group, according to the American Cancer Society’s annual report for 2024.
By the time Spuck was tested, the cancer had spread to her liver, lungs and lymph nodes. Since the diagnosis, she has undergone a colon resection, four liver surgeries, several courses of radiation and ongoing chemotherapy treatments. “I’ve been on chemo constantly since 2019,” she says.
The long, curly hair that had been her signature has been replaced with a short buzz cut. Recently, when she donned a wig that looked like her old locks, her youngest daughter told her, “That doesn’t even look like you anymore! I don’t know who that lady is.”
“But they used to say, ‘I miss your long hair,’” Spuck says.
One of the biggest heartbreaks of ongoing cancer treatment is how it affects her daughters, she says: “I hate it for them. They’re going to remember their childhood with their mom being in chemo every other week.”
And yet, Spuck insists on living full out, as much as her health circumstances will allow. She was hospitalized over the summer, but still managed to take her daughters on a planned trip to Paris, where her sister lives. They went to Disneyland, strolled the Champs Elysee and did a photo shoot in front of the Eiffel Tower.
When Spuck turned 50 in August, she not only threw herself a party, but dressed up as the “Saturday Night Live” character Sally O’Malley, known for her extremely high-waisted red pants, flamboyant high kicks and boastful pride about being 50 years old.
“After I got diagnosed, I wasn’t sure I would make it to 50,” Spuck says.
Though she has yet to write about her experiences with cancer, she continues to write for the screen, with credits including "A Nashville Country Christmas" starring Tanya Tucker and Keith Carradine for Paramount in 2022, the 2023 TV movie “Bringing Christmas Home,” 2022’s “Baking Spirits Bright" for Lifetime and "Back of the Net" for Disney+. "A Dad for Christmas" will air this holiday season on Hallmark.
Living fully
Nicole Sunseri, MSW, a counselor with the Simms/Mann UCLA Center for Integrative Oncology, rejects the idea that being diagnosed with cancer means one is dying.
“Dying is a very discrete period of time,” she says. “Everything else is life. It may not be the life that you would have chosen or wished for. It’s still your life.”
Spuck embodies that ongoing love of life, even as she faces difficult times, Sunseri says.
Part of that embrace includes doling out wisdom to people who want to support loved ones with cancer. Spuck offers three pieces of cheeky yet helpful advice in the keynote speeches she’s given at fundraisers and other health events around town.
First: Do not give the sick person a mug. “People love to send a mug and tea,” she says. “I have so many mugs. I have all the mugs.”
Second: Avoid what she calls “the sympathetic head tilt” when asking your loved one how they’re doing. Spuck imitates this action by dramatically tilting her head to the right while asking, “How are you?”
“It’s always on the word ‘are,’” she says.
And finally, rather than asking how you can help, tell your friend or loved one what you plan to do to lighten their load. For example, say, “I’m going to bring you a lasagna” or “I’m going to take your kids for the afternoon so you can have some time to yourself” or “I’m going to come over and listen to you say everything that’s on your mind and just sit with you.”
“Because when you ask, now I have to make another decision,” Spuck says. “I have decision fatigue as it is, when I’m thinking about my treatment and everything else.”
It’s practical advice, especially since it can be hard to know how to best support a loved one with cancer. And sharing it with audiences is helping Spuck bring meaning to her own experience with the disease.
“It makes it not so lonely,” she says. “It’s like I can do something with this thing that I’ve been given that isn’t just about me. I want to make a difference. I want to feel like I’ve inspired people.”
