At just thirty years old, Steve was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a rare and aggressive bone cancer. The journey has taken him through chemotherapy, multiple surgeries, and many different avenues of holistic health. An avid blogger, Steve shares his personal health regimens as well as love of music, movies and sports in his writing. Follow along his quest for wellness as he reacclimates into the world in spite of daunting statistics. You can connect with Steve on Instagram 

Steve Rubin

Navigating through insurance and medical leave forms has always felt nerve-wracking and high stakes for me. From the moment those bulky packets arrive in the mail, my stress levels fly off the charts. I’ve been afraid that if I fill out anything wrong, I’ll get denied or punished in some way — emotions that aren’t quite rational but feel valid to me, nonetheless. And maybe you’re a cancer fighter struggling with the same issue.

Try to remember that your stress levels are usually highest right after you receive the forms. Feel free to put them aside and let your nervous system regroup. Give it a few days or even weeks before you worry about dealing with filling them out. You may just need a little time to process that something new has been added to your plate.

What I eventually started doing was dedicating an hour or two outside my apartment to go through everything. Leaving behind all the stressful cancer triggers in my home just seems to help lower my anxiety in general. I’ll also ask my wife to sit with me to make sure I’m not missing the mark or misrepresenting my situation. It’s always good to have a few friends or family members in mind that you can turn to if needed as well.

When I was applying for social security disability, the process felt even more intimidating and between treatment, scans and surgeries, I was already running on fumes. I invited a close friend who’s a lawyer to come out for the day. I bought him lunch, we got to catch up and hung out for the day — which was great in itself — and he was by my side guiding me along each question. It took a lot of the pressure off and reminded me to ask when I need support. Most people want to be there for you as long as you make it clear how they can contribute.

Another lesson I’ve learned is the importance of having the right doctor as an advocate — someone you can fall back on when you need guidance. Don’t just settle if your primary care doctor or oncologist doesn’t seem in tune with your situation or if it feels like they’re simply running through the motions. You can always maintain relationships with multiple health specialists and then figure out for yourself who’s better to turn to for what. Ask around, do some research and make sure to find that ally. It’s worth it.

Stress along the cancer journey arrives in many forms. Remember to take a breath, leave yourself time to process unexpected twists, and then try to break down whatever’s come your way into manageable parts.

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Navigating medical leave and insurance forms can be nerve-wracking and feel high stakes for some, writes a cancer survivor. Here, he offers advice on how to manage that stress.

Managing the Stress of Medical Leave and Insurance Forms

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned throughout the cancer journey is to be your own health advocate.

When you’re first diagnosed, deferring entirely to your experienced, highly competent doctors is extremely appealing; you basically just want someone else to have all the answers, make the big decisions and do whatever it takes to make the whole nightmare go away. And in some cases, it is that easy. But many times, you’ll need to take a more active role.

I learned this the hard way when first diagnosed in 2016. On just the first meeting, an aggressive oncologist recommended rushing into chemo before taking any reproductive precautions — my wife, Kori, and I were actually told the treatment wouldn’t affect anything, which was 100% false — and I was so shook with fear that I probably would’ve went right ahead if Kori hadn’t pumped the brakes to get a second opinion.

That was my first wake up call. Here are other takeaways from over the years:

As much as a patient wants to believe the world revolves around their treatment, I’ve learned that’s definitely not the case. I’ve had to correct doctors and nurses or remind them about something they’ve forgotten or overlooked plenty of times. On both the conventional and holistic side. Speak up or ask your caretaker to get involved if something doesn’t feel right.

Between surgeons, oncologists, functional medicine doctors and different holistic professionals, everyone has unique insight, tips and tricks you can pick up along the way. Always be learning, adding new tools to your healing regimen, and working to improve your situation.

Grow thick skin and get used to uncertainty

My healing journey has crossed paths with both conventional and holistic medicine, two sides which don’t always see eye to eye. Many holistic supplements and treatments lack research backed studies and not everyone is comfortable discussing them as legit resources. What’s worked out best for me has been to tune out the noise, do my own research and then listen to my gut (while working out a plan under the supervision of a functional medicine doctor). As for managing the uncertainty, that’s one of the hardest parts about life as a cancer fighter and there are no easy fixes. The best I can offer is to keep reminding yourself, “one day at a time.”

After a year of intense chemo didn’t get the job done, part of what attracted me to experiment with the holistic world was the idea of working with clean, natural ingredients rather than foreign chemicals and the painful side effects packaged in with clinical trials I was offered. That’s a personal decision. But remember to weigh quality of life right up there with a treatment’s chance of success.

There are less options depending on the condition’s severity. For that reason, it would be unfair to preach hard and set rules on the “proper” way to tackle fighting cancer. Remember that whenever people like me are offering you advice. Trust your gut.

The main thing I’m trying to remind you is that 

, so make sure to own that. Medical professionals, health influencers — whoever you turn to for guidance, try to think of them more as key consultants whereas you’re the CEO, fully responsible for the end results. And that’s not always easy; I’ve been in the room with some pushy and impatient doctors — it’s intimidating being pressured into decisions. but if you find yourself in this spot, remember to take a deep breath, step away if you must, and after collecting your thoughts, make sure you’re both informed and comfortable with whatever choices are made. It’ll be worth it in the end.

A cancer survivor recalls some experiences he had along his journey and reminds others to be the CEO of their care team, as it’s their life on the line.

Patients With Cancer Are The CEO of Their Care Team

fighting cancer has helped me step up my coping game.

I’d settled into a decent groove during COVID, with health routines, reading, writing, meditating, guitar— all my solo activities keeping me busy. With Kori working remotely, I was no longer alone in the apartment all day.

But Kori’s wired differently. She needs people around and changes of scenery. Kori thrives off in-person conversation, not video chats. She really missed her parents and friends back in Northern California whom we hadn’t seen all year.

It forced up a scary dilemma. While a trip out west felt important for Kori’s holistic health (we were protecting ourselves physically, but her heart and soul missed her people), California was pretty much the last place you’d want to travel.

I thought about how the past few years of our relationship have centered around protecting me and nurturing my needs, and this time, recognized I had to put the anxieties aside and make sure my wife was cared for. It was a proud moment to push ahead on the decision with her— I knew she’d be worrying about me and that I had to reassure her it was 

 choice too, and I’m not sure I would’ve felt as comfortable risking it in years past. But here we were, rolling the dice.

After planning safely ahead: stocking up with masks, face guards and areas to quarantine, we booked our flights. I still worried about leaving my healing center behind to essentially travel straight into the covid storm, but just like Kori has sacrificed endlessly for me, I’d do anything for her.

Two weeks later, we’ve been having the best time. Whenever I see Kori light up, chatting away with the people she loves, it brings so much joy— just knowing that she’s finally getting what she needed. And I’ve been just as happy. Didn’t realize how much I needed the change myself.

Maybe the past few years have trained us well for navigating high-risk situations. They’ve certainly helped us build trust in one another. They’ve toughened us up and brought us closer. And with scans coming up next, I’m glad to know we’ve gotten in more moments and created new memories; that even after all we’ve endured, we’re still enjoying ourselves the best we can and still taking things one day at a time.

A survivor discusses the challenges of finding connections during COVID-19.

Risky Business: Navigating COVID Challenges To Still Find Connection 

One of my favorite songs has always been “Don’t Look Back in Anger” by Oasis. I remember first hearing it back in high school. The chord progression just seemed to reach out from the speakers, like 

whatever you’re doing, stop and pay attention! 

Then came the catchy anthemic chorus, just begging to be sung along with and finally, Noel Gallagher brought it all home with a sizzling electric guitar solo.

I love this track so much that I actually chose it as the last song at my wedding. By then, the title felt much more symbolic since Kori and my first wedding had been canceled after the year of treatment, after the surgeries and multiple recurrences. I mean I’d really been getting my ass kicked.

And while I had a fair case to make in feeling so, I rarely recall feeling 

There was this incredible shock. I grew scared, depressed, and after a while, outright exhausted. I’ve cried and screamed in frustration 

the circumstances, but it didn’t sit well with me, directing hatred at “cancer”, like it was another person who’d intentionally done me wrong. If anything, I view cancer as the 

 of some cause and effect that we don’t entirely understand yet. Maybe it's harmful chemicals added in products, or radiation, or the stress or in many cases—just bad luck.

The day I received that first call back post-MRI, the “don’t google osteosarcoma until you meet a specialist (but we’re almost positive that’s exactly what it is)” phone call— I broke down in tears afterward. My legs grew weak. It was an insane amount of pressure to suddenly take on.

Fortunately, after I regained composure, a wave of acceptance washed over me. My immediate next thoughts were:

This is what’s happening. There’s no going back. What’s the next move gonna be?

I was lucky for that. It kept me thinking and acting productively. Moving in the right direction.

Of course, repressing emotions isn’t healthy or productive either, so if you 

 furious at cancer for ruining your life or taking someone, you love— 

 cope however you need to cope. But hopefully, you can find outlets for that feeling because there’s also the idea that when you hold onto anger, you’re only poisoning yourself. And that’s the last thing any cancer fighter or caretaker needs.

Holding onto the anger that a cancer diagnosis provides can be a ruinous exercise, here's how one cancer fighter tries not to look back at his cancer with anger.

Steve Rubin

Managing the Stress of Medical Leave and Insurance Forms

Patients With Cancer Are The CEO of Their Care Team

Risky Business: Navigating COVID Challenges To Still Find Connection

Don’t Look Back in Anger At Cancer

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