
The symbolism of seasons helped me to put some challenges of my cancer journey into perspective.

The symbolism of seasons helped me to put some challenges of my cancer journey into perspective.

Thoughts on standing up to cancer through recovered mobility and by sharing my multiple myeloma journey.

Leaving a legacy is essential for many, especially for those who have faced cancer. We long for our friends and family to understand how cancer impacts our lives.

As we head into Fall, I’ve been thinking about how much this season represents my daughter’s cancer experience for me.

Through exercise, meditation, and gratitude, I reset my mind and body, finding peace and strength in life after my cancer diagnosis.

For me, standing up to cancer means honoring my wife’s melanoma journey by raising awareness, supporting early detection and research.

Cancer taught me to embrace life’s seasons, finding hope, joy, and gratitude in each chapter, no matter the struggles I face.

Autumn lifts my spirit, reminding me to embrace beauty, family, faith, and gratitude even while living with cancer.

Facing a cancer diagnosis was terrifying, but determination, lifestyle changes, and a strong support system helped me fight and find hope.

The shift in seasons reminds me I’m alive, grateful, and still changing as a cancer survivor embracing life’s new chapters.

Standing up to cancer means focusing on the blessings, reveling in good news, and living life to its fullest every day.

I share practical strategies for living well with cancer, from research and self-care to support, creativity, and wise giving.

What does standing up to cancer mean to me? It meant I got to choose the terms of my fight instead of relinquishing that to an uncurable disease.

Creating our own metaphors to stand up to cancer can help with the healing journey; own words can give us a better sense of control.

After my breast cancer diagnosis, blogging became a way to process emotions, share updates with loved ones, and connect with others facing similar journeys

In a defining moment for both my husband and me, we learned of the need for and the meaning of support during a cancer journey.

I share how my daughter’s cancer team let me stay involved and supported, helping me remain present as her mom through every step of treatment.

Through cancer treatment, loss, as well as many life changes, I found healing in simple moments of community and laughter that lifted my spirit.

I share how my friendship with advocate Amy Byer Shainman helped me navigate hereditary cancer, showing that real support comes from empath and honesty.

Through three family cancer diagnoses, and my own life-threatening stage 3b lung cancer verdict, family support and reconnection helped support me.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, I found strength, support, and hope through friendship and community that carried me through the hardest moments.

A diagnosis of breast cancer isn’t something most people would think of as a teacher, but sometimes important lessons come to us in unexpected ways.

Living with stage 4 cancer taught me the power of community; connecting with others provides guidance, support, and hope in an often-lonely journey.

When I was diagnosed with peritoneal mesothelioma at 21 years old, the doctors gave me 18 months to live; that was 18 years ago.

I’m a testicular cancer survivor diagnosed at 20. My story is about finding strength, building routines, and sharing hope for those facing cancer.

I was facing rare mesothelioma alone at 21 years old, but sharing my story connected me to a community that offers hope and strength to keep fighting.

August is World Cancer Support month, and a time to honor the quiet strength of caregivers and the communities that lift them up.

During World Cancer Support Month, I’m remembering a moment in 2012 a group of teachers — especially Mrs. Reed — lifted me up with unexpected kindness.

I survived peritoneal mesothelioma thanks to the love, prayers, and support of family, friends, and strangers who reminded me I was never alone.

During my breast cancer journey, my sister Kelly’s love and support — especially the day she shaved my head — gave me strength, comfort, and control.