
Integrating a metastatic breast cancer diagnosis with the life you have takes time and effort.

Integrating a metastatic breast cancer diagnosis with the life you have takes time and effort.

Sometimes I feel lazy and berate myself instead of admitting that I am ill.

As a mom, I have the “worry gene,” though it got much worse when my daughter was diagnosed with cancer.

For the past nine years, I’ve struggled with waves of overwhelming fear of cancer recurrence. I knew I had an issue, but until recently, wasn’t aware of how much fear was affecting my life.

I was diagnosed with cancer five years ago, and am extremely grateful for the people I met along the way.

With each hike I complete, I feel empowered and reminded that breast cancer — and lingering lymphedema — cannot keep me down.

After being diagnosed with a rare form of cancer — and seeing a clinician who did not know how to treat me — I learned the importance of asking questions to my providers and advocating for myself

I hated the way that hormone drugs made me feel, so I spoke with my loved ones and oncology team and made the difficult decision to stop.

After being no evidence of disease for about a year and a half, I am now fearing that I’m not fearing enough.

I don't remember the first time I heard the word "germline," but I do remember when it became a major part of my life.

After going through grueling cancer treatments, I thought I’d never be back to my old self again. But thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

Before leaving on vacation, I had to make sure I had enough of my cancer medication to last me through the trip.

Looking back on my experiences with leukemia and with alcoholism, I realized that the 12 steps of Alcoholics Anonymous can be applied to life with cancer.

Anything that got in the way of my healing from cancer had to be put on hold.

After going through cancer, Mother’s Day feels a bit different.

Slowing down due to cancer and COVID-19 made me realize the parts of life I’ve been missing, though my new pace isn’t all bad.

The night before my mastectomy, I had a dream about my grandmother who died of breast cancer, which gave me hope throughout the frightening process.

I'm thankful that I spoke up about my bone pain related to cancer metastases.

My husband is "that guy" who always takes care of everyone else, so his recent cancer scare was unfathomable.

I’ve learned that knowledge is the key to fighting cancer. Here are three ways I learn more about my disease.

I was told that I have survivors' guilt after seeing a friend while she was actively dying from cancer, but I actually see that day as a gift.

After undergoing an oophorectomy, I experienced some debilitating symptoms, but acupuncture and other holistic practices helped.

Many thoughts went through my mind during cancer, and journaling allowed me to organize them and helped me to feel better.

Mixed in the boxes of appointments and cancer treatments are milestones that uplift my spirits and are unique to my healing journey.

Even though my children are grown up, I still worry about their health — especially when it comes to breast cancer.

People are functioning as if the threat of COVID-19 is gone, but that’s not the case for many people with cancer.

Even though I’ve had no evidence of cancer for the last five years, I still stay up to date about the latest developments for the disease.

At first I was skeptical about how meditation and breathing techniques could help me with fear of cancer recurrence. But once I started practicing, I noticed a difference in my anxiety.

A cancer diagnosis often means putting your life in the hands of people you hardly know.

I was surprised and saddened at how some of my friends were not there for me when I was undergoing cancer treatment. The oncology ward became a lonely place.