Docs removed 7 organs from my cancer-riddled body — I had no symptoms

“Florida is doing you well,” guests gushed to Louise Altese-Isidori at the opening party for the new location of her husband’s popular Manhattan Italian restaurant, Arthur & Sons.

A lifelong New Yorker, the 50-year-old had recently moved to the Sunshine State with her family and was thriving, completely unaware of the deadly threat growing inside her. 

“Everyone was complimenting me, telling me I looked so great,” Altese-Isidori recalled. “Meanwhile, I was riddled with cancer.”

With zero symptoms, she had no idea ovarian cancer had silently invaded her body and already begun to spread.

Before long it would cost Altese-Isidori seven of her organs — all because she pushed for a test doctors dismissed as “unnecessary.”

Clear test, close call

Altese-Isidori never thought to track her ovarian health until her fertility doctor recommended she undergo a transvaginal sonogram every six months.

Though another doctor brushed it off as unnecessary, Altese-Isidori figured it was “no big deal” to get it annually. That decision might have saved her life.

Last October, her doctor spotted a large cyst on her ovary during a routine gynecological visit. She hadn’t felt a thing.

Because of the size, her doctor ordered an Ova1 blood test to check if it was cancerous. The results came back negative, as did a second test a month later.

Still, the cyst remained, and she followed through on her doctor’s suggestions to remove her ovaries. She didn’t plan on having more kids.

“When he went in, there was cancer in my colon, my liver, it was already in my chest — and I had felt completely fine.”

Louise Altese-Isidori

But when the surgeon set to perform the procedure saw her ultrasound, a grave look crossed his face.

“I don’t want to scare you because your test came back negative, but I don’t like the way things are looking,” he told Altese-Isidori. “I need to get you in as soon as possible to have your ovaries removed.”

Signing her life away — or saving it

On Dec. 20, Altese-Isidori went under the knife for what she thought would be a routine procedure.

“When he went in, he was able to see that I was filled with cancer,” she said.

A biopsy confirmed the diagnosis: Stage 4B ovarian cancer, the most advanced form of the disease, meaning it had already spread to distant organs.

In the US, only 31% of people diagnosed at that stage are alive five years later, according to the Ovarian Cancer Research Alliance.

“I was in complete shock. I kept waiting for someone to say they made a mistake,” Altese-Isidori said.

She and her husband, chef Joe Isidori, sprang into action. Within days, she’d landed a spot at Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center in New York, where she was placed under the care of Dr. Dennis Chi, head of the hospital’s Ovarian Cancer Surgery Section.

“[I thought], ‘That’s going to give me five pounds.’ But I was so disappointed … it was like 10 ounces.”

Louise Altese-Isidori on having seven organs removed

“I feel very lucky in an extremely unlucky situation, because all of my stars aligned,” Altese-Isidori said.

On Jan. 15, she was back on the operating table.

As she signed pre-op papers, Altese-Isidori told her husband she felt like she was “signing her life away” — initialing every worst-case scenario listed in the fine print.

“The doctor heard me, and he said, ‘No you’re not, you’re giving me permission to save your life,’” Altese-Isidori said.

That was the turning point. “It was like something clicked in my mind,” Altese-Isidori said. “I got such strength from his words, it gave me so much motivation.”

Live goes on — seven organs lighter

Altese-Isidori’s incision scar stretched all the way up her torso.

“When he went in, there was cancer in my colon, my liver, it was already in my chest — and I had felt completely fine,” she said.

Chi had removed her spleen, appendix, gallbladder, uterus, ovaries, fallopian tubes and the lining of her stomach, all riddled with cancer.

Seven organs lighter, Altese-Isidori couldn’t help but wonder: Had she lost any weight?

“That’s going to give me five pounds,” she remembers thinking. “But I was so disappointed, we Googled it and added it all up and it was like 10 ounces. It was ridiculous,” she said with a laugh.

Chi managed to spare part of her liver and colon, but she needed a colostomy bag attached to a small opening in her lower abdomen where waste would exit her body.

She stayed in the hospital for 18 days, finding strength in “mirror talks.” “I would tell myself, ‘Alright, enough already. Enough of the pity party. We have a lot left to do,’” she said.

Chemo, which started a week later, was “mental warfare,” though she mostly had a “really easy run” through six rounds, which were split between MSK and the Miami Cancer Institute in Florida.

Aside from fatigue, body aches and losing all her hair, she waited for the worst — and was surprised when it didn’t come.

“There wasn’t anything really major compared to what I thought it would be,” she said, crediting IV hydration every few days.

Over time, Altese-Isidori adjusted to life with the colostomy bag. Slowly, glimpses of her old self returned.

“I was wearing sweatpants in the beginning, but eventually, I was like, you know what? Screw this. I’m getting dressed up,” she said. Soon, she was strutting into doctor’s appointments in her favorite dress and heels.

A new chapter begins

Recently, she had surgery to remove the colostomy bag. Then came the best news yet: Her CA 125 test — which measures a protein often elevated in women with ovarian cancer — had returned to normal levels.

“I’m technically in remission,” she said.

She celebrated with a “remission cake” alongside loved ones, including her 8-year-old son, Roman, and 94-year-old mother.

“My hair is starting to grow back, and I feel good,” she said, but added that she thinks she’ll always be in fight mode.

“I don’t want to let my guard down, I feel like there’s evil eyes lurking somewhere that are watching me,” she admitted.

For Stage 4 ovarian cancer patients, the chance of recurrence can be as high as 95%, according to the OCRA.

“To think that at seven months I won and I beat it for life is silly. But today I’m OK,” she said, noting that she’s taking a daily PARP inhibitor pill, a type of targeted therapy, which can delay or stop cancer’s return.

“I want to redefine the face of stage four cancer,” she said. “I want people to know that you could still have a full life — even with a colostomy bag.”

“It’s important to remember that there’s a lot of hope,” she added. “It’s not a dead end.”

The whisper killer

Now, Altese-Isidori is raising awareness about ovarian cancer, urging women to push for early screening.

“Maybe I took one for the team [and] now there’s a woman behind me who doesn’t have to,” she said.

While she had no symptoms, there are often warning signs — but they’re typically so subtle, many women overlook them. That’s why it’s known as “the whisper killer.”

Common symptoms include bloating, fatigue, feeling full quickly, changes in bowel or bladder habits and pelvic, back or abdominal pain.

“The biggest thing is persistence,” said Jennifer McGrath, executive director of Hearing the Ovarian Cancer Whisper, a nonprofit working to raise awareness about the condition. “If something lasts longer than a few weeks, you’ve got to get in to see a doctor.”

McGrath urges women, especially those with a family history, to ask their doctors for a CA 125 blood test. Though it’s usually reserved for women already diagnosed with ovarian cancer, it can help establish a personal baseline that may prove useful down the road.

Altese-Isidori and McGrath also recommend that women get an annual transvaginal ultrasound, even if they aren’t postmenopausal, the age group ovarian cancer typically affects.

“Over the last 10 years, a lot of younger women are getting it,” McGrath said. “But it’s really not one of those cancers that I believe doctors are necessarily trained to screen for, you have to ask for it.”

In the US, a woman’s lifetime risk of developing ovarian cancer is about 1 in 91, according to the American Cancer Society. In 2025, they estimate that about 20,890 women will be diagnosed with the disease, and 12,730 women will die from it.