Blogs

Back 50 years or so ago, people didn’t discuss cancer freely. Today, things have changed.

This is how I accepted that I am running out of time and options.

The very first blog I ever wrote for CURE asked the question, “Why me?”

Trust me, I made the mistake of blaming every symptom on my cancer.

October brings many mixed emotions to mind as a breast cancer survivor.

The highs, lows and a courageous decision that changed everything.

Living with stage 4 cancer begs reflection. Have I lived my life with purpose? How will I be remembered? Did I do all I wanted to do?

Rachelle’s unexpected departure reminded me I need to express my appreciation to these special, beloved providers now.

Nine years of Pinktober while living with metastatic breast cancer.

With National Hereditary Cancer Week and National Previvor Day coming up at the end of the month, I sat down to write something about cancer advocacy and being the parent of a previvor.

If I could turn back time and speak to my newly diagnosed self, here's what I'd say!

After cancer and chemo, I tell myself all the time that nothing matters more than your health.

Although I know I am not a scientist, and understand my cancer may take a lifetime, I contemplate why I ended up with too many copies of the HER2 gene.

So many aftereffects occurred with my two cancers.

I didn't have a choice but to get tattoos for my radiation.

“And… ok, that’s enough!” That was my brain’s reaction after the oncologist broke the news.

I don’t know about you, but music moves me. Literally. It makes me move.

Before my biopsy, the doctor assured me it was nothing. He said he was just doing this to prove it to me. We definitely didn’t expect what followed next.

After getting over the shock of being diagnosed with a rare cancer, I could only think about returning to my “normal” self, but I later discovered that the normal I was trying to return to would change.

I like to think that I always checked off the “be an organ donor” box on my driver’s license forms, but of course that just may be the way I remember it.

I always enjoyed writing about my summers, but this is what I would write today.

For three-and-a-half years, my cancer was stable.

Sitting vigil next to an end-of-life patient.

Cancer is truly @#%^%# %#*$!, so go ahead and let the anger out!

My experience with multiple surgical procedures for breast cancer showed me just how important it was to have the total support of my husband.

Becoming an advocate after my cancer diagnosis made an impact not only on others, but for myself.

Here's how I learned to talk about my cancer.

Constantly replaying scary cancer situations or drowning in anxiety isn’t only depressing it wastes valuable energy that could be used for healing.

Someone was watching over me the day I was diagnosed with non-small cell lung cancer.

Once a friendship turned toxic, I had to put myself first.