Blogs

Breast cancer survivors who continue to deal with high-risk factors in a remaining breast need to be proactive about medical protocols that fit a high-risk survivor’s needs.

Five years after finishing treatment for follicular lymphoma, I reflect on remission, scanxiety, life changes, and the joys and challenges of recovery.

I reflect on caregiving, loss and gratitude, honoring the people who supported me through my sister’s cancer and my first Thanksgiving without her.

Cancer survivorship invites deeper questions about what we allow into our bodies, our homes, and the lives of those we love most.

All I can say is thank you Healthwell Foundation for giving our brother life, and for giving our whole family unit life. Because of you, we can keep on keeping on.

Christmas is my favorite time of year. Since my child was diagnosed with cancer, however, the only gift I want is one more Christmas with her being here.

I have been diagnosed with breast cancer for the third time, and I find it interesting how the places where I seek support have changed over time.

Losing an online friend to cancer reminded me that grief is real even across screens and that survivor guilt and gratitude can coexist in the same moment.

All I want for Christmas is to talk to and hear from as many readers and writers about their cancer experiences and their lives as I can.

Living with chronic cancer means navigating the holidays with extra caution — but also with deeper gratitude for every moment I’m able to show up.

It’s been two-and-a-half years since I “rang the bell” on the Oncology ward, signaling that I had ended my chemotherapy treatment.

I usually write about my daughter’s cancer, but my friend’s stage 4 breast cancer journey showed me the limits of strength and the need for help.

As I reflect on my lung cancer journey, I look back to the 2018 holiday season, feeling comfortable and at peace.

I attended this year’s Light the Night walk in remembrance of my sister, reflecting on her 11-year battle and enduring identity as a cancer survivor.

I struggle to understand why people support policies and leaders that make healthcare less affordable and accessible for everyone.

After cancer, even your closet tells a story you never imagined living. One quiet afternoon, that story took a hilarious and unexpected turn.

I believe time to be a gift, and as such, my sister was gifted more than a decade despite a terminal illness, and I do have gratitude for that.

Facing my cancer diagnosis, I learned it’s okay not to be okay and found comfort in laughter, honesty, and the support of loved ones.

I’ve lived with stage 4 breast cancer for 11 years, and each day brings gratitude for my family, my oncologist, and the care that keeps me going.

I experienced acute myeloid leukemia twice. Had it not been for follow up appointments I would not be here.

I share how my sister’s final days felt different from her many rebounds and how I continue to process the grief of losing her after years of anticipation.

I found purpose again after my myeloma diagnosis when I returned to teaching and shared my work, moments that reminded me I could still grow and reconnect.

A stamp on my Christmas cards stirred deep memories and reminded me that small actions can make a meaningful impact in the fight against breast cancer.

Feeling like others have it worse can dismiss the real challenges of follicular lymphoma and leave patients without the support they need.

I love flowers, and I especially love the Japanese tradition of ikebana. In Japanese culture, ikebana is the art of flower arrangement.

As we’re about to celebrate Thanksgiving 2025, I’d like to honor someone for whom I’m grateful – my son, Thomas. 

Bernadette’s strength and optimism lifted me through my own cancer journey and reminded me how much one person’s compassion can change how I move through each day.