"It started with me feeling a large lump in the shower, which seemed to have appeared overnight," said Sue, who endured an 11 month journey to fight the cancer.
Within 10 days of finding the lump, she had a mammogram, an ultrasound and specialist appointment, which confirmed it was breast cancer.
"Like mice on a wheel we began a more intense testing regime, which involved needle and cone biopsies, MRI, CT and PET scans and sentinel node biopsy, which I had as day surgery, between Christmas and New Year."
Working for a criminal barrister at the time, as well as having just become the president of the Wellington JP Association that October, Sue was not ready to put her life on hold, with just two law papers left to complete at university.
"I persevered, thinking I could block out this cancer.
"From early on I decided I wasn't going to quit and the cancer would not win."
However, the day before her final exams, Sue received news about the severity of the cancer, and that it may have spread through her body and bones.
"There was no time to waste and it was organised for me to have the bone and CT scans the next day, and it wasn't possible to do the exams."
She started her chemotherapy in January 2015.
"I tried to be positive but I was terrified, and my vulnerability really hit home.
"I wasn't in control of what was going to happen. I was informed, but I had to give my trust to the team trying to save my life."
Having described chemo as a rollercoaster, Sue was reminded by her husband and ongoing support person John that while chemo was going to make her sick, and push her to the brink of death, it was killing the cancer.
"People associate chemo with vomiting, feeling sick and losing your hair and for me the nausea was awful, but it was the other effects that were worse.
"It felt like I had a bad case of the flu all the time and ached all over, with mouth ulcers, and I couldn't sleep."
Sue also suffered from anxiety and low self-esteem, hot and cold flushes, changes in her senses and 'chemo brain', which she described as foggy thinking and distorted memory.
In addition, because of removed lymph nodes, she could only have chemo in one arm and, as treatment progressed, the veins in her right arm collapsed.
Five weeks in to chemo Sue received a single mastectomy, which was a further challenge for her, emotionally and physically.
"I underestimated the power of having your breast removed," she said.
"Logically I understand why it was necessary and it's all about minimising the risk of cancer coming back, but it doesn't change the emotional response every time you look at your chest or some of the ongoing physical side effects."
Not long after, five weeks' daily radiation began, during which she reacted to mepatal, a film that is placed over the skin to reduce radiation burns.
"It left blisters and the fatigue really took its toll.
"Then, in February 2016 we went for a week's break, and a few days after returning, I was rushed to hospital with an air pocket under my lung and peritonitis.
"It turned out to be fairly life threatening and I was rushed to surgery as a code one patient."
Nevertheless, between finishing treatment and getting peritonitis, Sue had decided to finish her final law paper, thanks to help from the university.
Again, her life took a turn, but this time, it was positive.
Now, cancer free and slowly regaining her strength, Sue was admitted to the Bar in December 2016, and graduated this year.
"I could've cried the entire time and wanted to burst when I walked across the stage.
However, I kept telling myself if I started crying I'd end up being the graduate that was remembered for tripping over on stage."
Sue said during her cancer journey, a word that she uses to describe the experience, the most important thing was "aiming to be a very old lady with my husband John".
"What I've learnt though, is that lifestyle balance is very important. I love the simple things and I count myself very lucky every day."
Offering support: Sue's advice when you know somebody has cancer:
"Everybody's cancer is different and everybody's response to treatment is different.
"Make contact, be honest and tell people if you don't know what to say.
"Contact doesn't have to be straight away.
"When the initial fuss has died down and treatment is ongoing the days can seem long. "People might have had 50 people contact them but you might be the 51st and be just what they need at that time."
Above all, she said, be thoughtful.
"Nobody expects support people to automatically know what to do, as this is undoubtedly one of the biggest issues someone can face in their life.
"There's no right or wrong approach to support."
