A shock diagnosis and a shift in perspective
Jordan Brunoli, the bass player from the Australian band Bugs, has publicly spoken about his terminal cancer fears in his first in-depth interview since his diagnosis earlier this year. The words he shared with triple j hack reveal not only the gravity of his condition but the way it has reframed his approach to life and music.
When the doctor finally delivered the news, Brunoli’s initial reaction was jarringly pragmatic and human at once. “I was like, ‘Hell yeah, I get some time off work,’” the 30-year-old bassist admitted. “I was just so burnt out from general life stuff and immediately switched to downplaying it in my mind. But five seconds after that I was like, ‘that’s ridiculous, I’m too young.’”
The medical journey: symptoms, misdiagnosis, and persistence
Brunoli had been wrestling with months of troubling symptoms—blood in his stool, persistent lethargy and painful bouts that left him unable to move for hours. He describes a period where the pain was so severe that he had to take time off work. Yet the medical system didn’t immediately acknowledge the severity. “There was blood in my stool occasionally … lethargy and general tiredness,” he said, noting that tests repeatedly came back as nothing serious. The message he heard from doctors was, in effect, that it was a virus and would pass in a couple of weeks.
That diagnostic detachment spurred Brunoli to advocate for himself more aggressively. “Advocating for yourself in a doctor’s office is difficult as a young person,” he recalled. After a string of visits and a growing sense of panic, he sought a second opinion. The result was a terminal diagnosis that would alter every aspect of his life. While he doesn’t harbor anger toward the first clinician, he wonders how differently things might have progressed had he not pressed for answers earlier. He is now urging other young Australians to push for clarity when their bodies signal trouble.
From diagnosis to the bigger picture: the cancer, the surgery, the stoma
Brunoli’s cancer had already advanced to his liver and lymph nodes when it was finally confirmed. The treatment path has included major surgery—the removal of about half of his bowel, resulting in a permanent stoma—and an intensive chemotherapy program that he will likely continue for life. The side effects have been stubborn and real: skin reactions on his hands, brittle hair, pins and needles, and fatigue. He notes that nausea has not been a major issue for him, which he considers a small mercy in a tough treatment regime.
Despite the gravity of his medical reality, Brunoli remains resolute. He has accepted the idea of ongoing chemotherapy and the daily adjustments required by his condition, reinforcing that his life with cancer will be a long-term routine rather than a short battle.
Facing prognosis: fear, anger, and choosing to live
When asked about his prognosis, Brunoli paused, sharing how his oncologist recently delivered difficult news. “There was silence in the room,” he recalled. He has experienced episodes of anger and admits fear openly. “I’m constantly thinking tomorrow might be the day when my liver just gives up and I get jaundiced and drop dead. It could happen at any time, which is terrifying.” Yet from that fear has emerged a sense of liberation. “You kind of live life like you’re going to die and just do the things that make you happy. Finding peace with the fact that time might be limited … and it’s not my fault.”
Brunoli’s candor about his mortality has also brought clarity about what brings him joy—his music, his partner George, and the sense of community that surrounds him. He is quick to acknowledge that the fear is part of a broader, shared human experience—one that can prompt people to appreciate the present and to push for what matters most.
Australian music rallies: a fundraiser and a show of solidarity
In Brisbane this weekend, a sold-out fundraising concert in Brunoli’s honour—Saving a Bug’s Life—highlights the extraordinary support from the Australian music scene. The lineup features notable acts like DZ Deathrays, Beddy Rays, and Hope D, with Bugs themselves taking the stage. Brunoli initially resisted the idea of a fundraiser, but the overwhelming response from friends and peers convinced him it would improve his quality of life by easing everyday costs—groceries, stoma supplies, and other essentials that can become burdensome during treatment. “It’s helping me with groceries, stoma supplies and little things like that. It’s just one less thing I have to worry about and I can focus on recovery and healing,” he said.
The generosity of fellow musicians has been described by Brunoli as “unlike anything I’ve ever seen.” The event is more than a performance; it’s a lifeline that underscores the power of community in times of illness and hardship.
Music as therapy and a future creative chapter
Even amid medical uncertainty, music remains a constant anchor in Brunoli’s life. He hints that Bugs is working on new material, foretelling a sound that may differ from the band’s lighter material of the past. He calls playing guitar a form of therapy—an outlet to release the noise in his head when days are tough. “Especially when I’m really down, I’ll just play guitar as much as my fingers will allow. I’m never gonna give that up.”
A note to fans: advocacy, resilience, and moving forward
Brunoli’s story is not only about illness; it’s about resilience and empowerment. He urges others to advocate for themselves in medical settings and to lean on their communities when needed. As he prepares for a future that remains uncertain, he remains thankful for the support that allows him to keep making music and to live with purpose, no matter what tomorrow brings.
