Blogs

A recent injury reminded me that I could be dropped into the “cancer blender” at any time, though I should not focus on all the “what ifs.”

Nobody prepared me for the hardest part of my cancer experience — the toll it would have on my 6-year-old son.

I used to love spending time outdoors during the warm weather, but when I started getting hot flashes after my cancer-related oophorectomy, enjoying hot days got a bit trickier.

Since being diagnosed with breast cancer, I’ve been vigilant about reading the labels of items I buy to see if they contain carcinogens, but I never thought about the potential chemicals in my drinking water... until recently.

John Wayne coined the term, “the Big C,” for cancer, but I think it’s time that the capital letter C stands for something better.

Throughout my cancer experience, I’ve relied heavily on friends and family for support. But as they are moving on and starting families of their own, I realized how much time I’ve lost to cancer.

Well-meaning comments can come off as bothersome — or even hurtful — to me as I navigate cancer.

Before being diagnosed with neuroendocrine cancer, I started to live a healthier life and took notice of some concerning symptoms.

If there was a certain diet that could prevent my daughter from going through the perils of chemotherapy, she’d do it in a heartbeat. But science doesn’t back the sugar-feeds-cancer myth.

After my breast cancer metastasized to my lungs, I was put on a PARP inhibitor, which caused an unexpected side effect that, unfortunately, happens like clockwork.

There are so many things I wish I’d known before being diagnosed with breast cancer, but if I’d known them all in advance, I wouldn’t have learned many valuable lessons.

As the COVID-19 pandemic seems to be winding down, I’ll still be masking up, knowing that it could return as quickly as it left.

My wife and I took a weekend break from the worries of cancer and everyday life, but things did not go as planned, forcing me to tap into all the self-work I’ve been focusing on this year.

After going public with my cancer diagnosis, I was met with an onslaught of “grief tourists” who may not have been interested in the harsh realities of cancer.

A trauma therapist who specializes in cancer would have been helpful for my wife and I as we navigated her cancer experience, but the option was never discussed at our health care visits.

Upon reflecting on my late wife's cancer experience, one of my major regrets is not properly saying goodbye.

When I was first diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, I did not know there were so many other people like me until I attended Living Beyond Breast Cancer’s Conference on Metastatic Breast Cancer.

Early 2022 was difficult for me, with the death of my dog and some difficult cancer-related situations, but thankfully, I know wonderful people who helped pull me out of my slump.

After surviving cancer, I’ve developed complex post-traumatic stress disorder, which comes with feelings of insecurity and anger.

As I prepared for my friend’s celebration of life, I reflected on other loved ones I lost to cancer and pondered why I am lucky enough to survive.

While wandering around an outdoor art exhibit, I found a sculpture that really spoke to my cancer experience.

When my late wife was diagnosed with BRCA2-related triple-negative breast cancer, I realized how important medical literacy is for patients and their loved ones.

As a melanoma advocate, I realized that people of color often are not included in research or properly understand their risks for skin cancer. Here’s what I’m doing to change that.

I have a lipoma on my back, and since I’m worried about both the aesthetics and potential malignancy of the fatty tumor, I’ve decided to have it removed.

Going through the COVID-19 pandemic with a cancer diagnosis made me feel jittery, and I know that many others felt the same way, too.

After being diagnosed with cancer, I scoured the internet for ways to live as long as possible and found some helpful tips and not-so-helpful “cures.”

When visiting the cancer center (or any other health care center), the people who greet me at the front desk can have a major impact on the whole experience.

The year 2022 has already been filled with obstacles and heartache — as well plans for a new cancer treatment — but I’m putting away the bad thoughts to get ready for the fight ahead of me.

Motivating affirmations are one thing, but to me, labels like “survivor” and “cancer-free” are a touchy subject.

Twice a week, my local Gilda’s Club holds a “Lunch and Laughs” group meeting with cancer survivors that has kept me grounded through COVID-19 isolation and beyond.