In a moment that stopped the nation mid-breath, beloved comedian and national treasure Magda Szubanski revealed on Tuesday night that she has been quietly fighting stage-four bowel cancer for the past 14 months; and that she very nearly didn’t live to tell the story.

The 63-year-old Kath & Kim icon, whose character Sharon Strzelecki has been making Australians laugh for two decades, appeared on 7News Spotlight visibly thinner, eyes glistening, and delivered the confession no one saw coming.

“I honestly thought that was it,” she said, voice trembling. “I was overseas, promoting a book, when the pain got so bad I ended up in emergency in Los Angeles. They found a tumour the size of a lemon. By the time I flew home, it had spread to my liver and lymph nodes. Stage four. The doctor sat me down and said, ‘Magda, you need to get your affairs in order.’ I’ve never felt terror like it.”

For over a year, Magda kept the diagnosis completely secret from the public and almost everyone in her inner circle. Only her partner of 12 years, her elderly mother Margaret, and two closest friends knew. She underwent brutal rounds of chemotherapy in private clinics, shaved her head under a beanie before anyone noticed, and filmed cameo appearances while hiding a port under her famous tracksuits.

“I didn’t want to be ‘Magda with cancer’,” she explained. “I didn’t want pity cameos or sympathy laughs. And selfishly, I couldn’t bear the idea of a nation grieving for me while I was still alive.”

But the turning point came three weeks ago, when a routine scan showed something no one dared hope for: the tumours had shrunk dramatically. Her oncologist used the word “remarkable responder.” For the first time in 14 months, the prognosis flipped from months to “potentially years.”

That’s when Magda decided Australia deserved the truth; and what happened next has been described as one of the most beautiful outpourings of love in Australian entertainment history.

Within minutes of the interview airing, #WeLoveYouMagda began trending number one worldwide. By midnight, over 400,000 tweets had been posted. Coles announced it was bringing back limited-edition “Sharon Strzelecki-approved” Continental Roll-ups with all proceeds to Bowel Cancer Australia. Bunnings warehouses across the country started playing “Noice, different, unusual” over the speakers every hour, followed by a plea for people to get screened.

Then came the videos.

Kyle Sandilands cried on air. Hamish Blake posted a tearful 3 a.m. selfie holding a “Look at moi, I beat cancer” T-shirt. Jane Turner and Gina Riley (Kath and Kim themselves) released a 40-second clip in character: Kath tearfully spraying Glen 20 at cancer cells while Kim announced she was “donating all me body butter profits, noice.”

But the moment that broke Magda was far more personal.

On Wednesday morning, 87-year-old Margaret Szubanski; who survived Auschwitz as a child and lost most of her family in the Holocaust; was wheeled into St Vincent’s Hospital courtyard where 2000 everyday Australians had gathered in silence, holding candles and wearing hi-vis vests in honour of Sharon’s iconic uniform. They began singing, softly at first, the Kath & Kim theme tune. Magda, watching from her hospital window on the fifth floor, collapsed into her mother’s arms.

“I’ve never felt more Australian than in that moment,” she later posted on Instagram. “You didn’t let me fight alone, even when I stupidly tried to.”

By Thursday, the “Magda Fund” set up by the Peter MacCallum Cancer Centre had smashed $8.7 million, with tradies emptying their smoko jars and school kids selling lamingtons. A Perth mining company donated $500,000 on the condition Magda record one last Sharon voice memo saying “Look at moi bank balance, ya jealous?”; which she happily did from her hospital bed.

Perhaps the most telling reaction came from Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, who paused Question Time to say: “Magda Szubanski has spent her life making us laugh at ourselves when we most needed it. Tonight Australia gets to return the favour. Get well, mate. The fountain gate is not the same without you.”

Doctors now say Magda’s cancer, while still incurable, is “highly treatable” and she could have “many good years” ahead. She has already started writing again; this time a memoir with the working title I Thought The Story Ended, But Australia Wouldn’t Let It.

In her final words on the Spotlight special, Magda looked straight down the lens, eyes fierce with hope:

“I spent a year preparing to die. Turns out this country had other plans. And you know what? I’m bloody glad you did.”

As of today, Magda Szubanski is no longer fighting alone; she is being carried by an entire nation that refuses to say goodbye to its funniest, kindest, most reluctant hero.

And if stage-four cancer thought it could take Sharon Strzelecki quietly in a hotel room, it clearly never understood who it was dealing with; or who had her back.