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The call that raised the hair on my arms, which is the one I least expected, came at 7:30 a.m. during a sales meeting.

It was during the spring in 2007. At the time, I sold real estate for the Hilton Corporation. I remember the morning vividly. That Tuesday, the sunrise shot pinks and purples across the sky as I drove the 15 miles to work.

I wasn’t in my chair for more than a few moments when my phone rang. Caller ID showed it was Karen, which the sister next to me in age. Karen is the organizer, the accountant, the person who delivers all the news, good or bad, to our large family. I wondered why she was calling me. “This can’t be good,” I can remember thinking. I stepped out of the conference room to take the call.

Karen’s voice was thick and deep. “Pamela, start praying for Claire right now. She’s in the ER and not doing well.”

Before my sister called me, I knew something was happening with my eight-year-old niece, Claire, because my brother, Dan, had called questioning me about my eye disease.

I was born with Brown syndrome, which is a rare condition that affects the muscles in my head. I only see with one eye at a time. Dan mentioned during that call that one of Claire’s eyes would not focus. However, I was born with my disease, and Claire’s was recent. Dan and his wife, Colleen, had taken Claire to an ophthalmologist, but the doctor had no explanation for her condition.

Then shortly after that, Claire started falling. She was such a clown though, everyone thought her behavior was her being a silly eight-year-old, and that her stumbles and spills meant she was kidding around. Dan and Colleen called her an “oops” child. They had no intention of having a fourth child but when Claire entered the world, with her brilliant blue eyes and sunny disposition, she had everyone eating out of the palm of her hand.

That morning, as I stood in the cold hallway at work in Orlando, listening to Karen who lived in Boynton Beach, Claire was having seizures in a hospital somewhere in Dallas.

“Pamela, she may not make it out. They are removing fluid from her brain now,” Karen said. Her words sounding far away and echoey.

A few days later, Claire was diagnosed with diffuse intrinsic pontine glioma, a highly aggressive brain tumor, also known as DIPG. If there is such a thing as worst of the worst cancer, this is it. DIPG grows at the base of the brain stem, which controls many of the body’s vital functions such as breathing, blood pressure, and heart rate. This type of cancer is inoperable because of its location in the brain. Treatment is not for a cure but to give the patient more time. Claire was given six months to live.

Claire was taken to every doctor and clinical trial possible.

But ultimately, her little body could not rid itself of the tumor that raged in her. She went to heaven on December 6, 2009. No parent should ever have to endure losing a child to cancer, or any way. I couldn’t imagine if it were my son, James. I struggled with how to console Dan and Colleen, so I did what my mom taught me, and I prayed.

Her favorite term, “we’ll find a way to make it better” was not for teenage breakups anymore. Life was happening. This time it was for those left devastatingly heartbroken.

Thank you for reading. My memoir, “Midlife Cancer Crisis,” will be published on October 15, 2020. Visit my website www.cancerfreeliving.life for more information.

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What it Was Like to Lose My Niece to Cancer

October 13, 2017 was the day that four words changed my life forever. That was the day I heard a nurse say, “You have breast cancer.” I was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma, stage 2B, hormone-receptor positive, and HER2-negative breast cancer. My tumor was in an uncommon spot at a high traffic intersection of blood and lymph vessels with lots of places for the cancer to run and it had begun to micrometastize into the sentinel lymph nodes.

My oncologist told me that if I didn’t do the aggressive treatment plan that he designed for me that I would die within a year. That is the day I put on my boxing gloves and entered the ring for the fight of my life, which was the fight for my life. Despite the grim prognosis, I never gave up hope throughout treatment.

My faith remained steadfast and unwavering. I knew my God was bigger than my cancer.

I was immediately thrown into a whirlwind of surgeries, bloodwork, scans, tests, doctor appointments, and treatments. My life became consumed by cancer and the fight against it. I spent five months receiving chemo treatments and two months of daily radiation treatments.

The oncology nurses told me they never saw anyone smile and laugh as much as I did through treatments. They were curious to know why. My answer was because I had hope and the joy of the Lord was my strength. There were days where I cried and felt like it was all just too much. I took it one day at a time, and a lot of days I had to take it one minute at a time. In the difficult struggles during treatment, I set a time limit and allowed myself to feel whatever emotion I felt, and I allowed myself to express it whichever way I needed to. Then when the allotted time was up, I forced myself to find the positives, dusted myself off, and made a game plan to get through the difficulty.

As difficult as my cancer journey was, there were a lot of good things that came out of it. Cancer changed my life. It changed my perspective. It showed me what is truly important and valuable in life. It helped me to see that all the things I worried about before cancer really wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. Cancer gave me an appreciation for the little things in life and showed me that those little things are really the big things. It showed me that I have more inner strength than I ever realized I had — I just had to dig deep to find it.

Going through cancer deepened my faith. I had to completely rely on my faith to get through each day. It also brought me closer to my family, especially to my older sisters.

I started a ministry called Boxes of Hope which sends care packages, fabric face masks, mastectomy pillows, mastectomy drain aprons, and port pillows free to women who are currently going through treatments for breast cancer. We also provide fabric face masks for free to cancer centers and children’s hospitals.

I pray for each recipient of a Boxes of Hope care package. I have formed friendships with some of the ladies who received my care packages. It is an honor and a blessing to walk alongside these women offering hope and encouragement to let them know they’re not alone in their cancer journeys.

Traci Fotorny is a breast cancer survivor and lives in central Pennsylvania with her husband and their two adult sons. Fotorny is the founder of Boxes of Hope Ministries. Email Fotorny at boxesofhopeministries@gmail.com or message her on Facebook at facebook.com/PinkBoxesOfHope to request a care package or to donate.

As difficult as my cancer journey was, there were a lot of good things that came out of it. Cancer changed my life. It changed my perspective. It showed me what is truly important and valuable in life.

Hope for The Cancer Journey

I know this is a tough subject. We love our children and grandchildren and want to protect them from everything out there that will make them hurt. And if you have been diagnosed with cancer and have young children or grandchildren, the worry of when and how to tell them about this scary illness is probably at the top of a long list of your AD (after diagnosis) concerns.

I recently put a resource together for newly diagnosed patients, which includes several videos, where I briefly broach the topic of telling family about cancer. The timing is uniquely personal to each new cancer patient — but the sooner the better, and don’t keep putting it off. Good advice, yes, but also scanty on the “how” part, especially as it applies to telling the youngsters in the family.

The “how” part, like the timing part, is also uniquely personal, and is different for each of you as they were the differences in each of our BC (before cancer) family lives. There are several online sources that offer advice on how to tell your kids that you have cancer. And they are worth looking at, to see if any relate well to your family circumstances, and resonate with you, personally, as a parent.

There are four things I would emphasize about what you are seeing online:

First, this is not a “one-and-done” task. Some advice you may find may suggest you make elaborate plans of the right setting, the right time, the right set of words, and map out what you will say when your kids ask questions. Sounds to me as though you might interpret that to mean you need to take days, maybe weeks or months, to prepare for that first conversation. Don’t fall for that or use it as an excuse to postpone. Your kids, no matter how young, know something is wrong. So, don’t keep putting it off until you work out the perfect speech. It is merely the first conversation, and probably not nearly the most important of those to come, in terms of helping your kids or grandkids come to grips with the concepts of cancer, illness, treatment, and separations due to hospitalizations — and what all that is going to mean to them.

And, it is not a “solo act” kind of task. Again, some of the sites tell you to pick the person who will tell your kids. I say it doesn’t matter who, or how many people, have these initial conversations. I think it is much more important to get some basic facts said – like getting the word “cancer” out on the table, because they are overhearing the word, and are sensing everyone’s fear and worry; and like reassuring them that cancer isn’t something they can “catch” from your hugs and kisses; and repeating as many times as possible that no matter what else is happening or is going to happen, they are loved and will continue to be well cared for. Certainly, the parent or grandparent who was diagnosed with cancer should play a major part in that first discussion with each of the children, but you don’t need to be the only one doing this.Set yourself, and them, up with a path going forward that encourages them to share their concerns with other adults on your “home team.” Kids and grandkids need to know that they can come to several people among your family and friends and clergy when (not if) they have questions and worries. This way, when both you and your spouse or primary support person are too distracted with the everyday burdens of living with cancer – your children know that there is someone else with whom they can share their feelings and concerns.

And, unless you have an only child, know that for each of your children, this series of conversations and intercommunications is individual to each one. Children of different ages and emotional maturity are going to require very different conversations. And they will have much different needs, going forward. And, if you can, identify for each of your kids the persons in their lives who are good “go-to” family members or adult friends, with whom each child seems to most easily and comfortably interact. Then work out with them a plan to support and mentor that child. Finally, if your oldest or most mature-acting child seems to be someone to whom the younger child or children go to when they have concerns or feelings they want to share, keep an eye out for that child to offer support when he or she gets overwhelmed.

And last but certainly not least, my advice to you parents is this: Your cancer will undoubtedly impact the lives of your children. For them, coping with cancer of a parent can produce both developmental and behavioral issues. Look around, now, for support services for your kids in your community. Some communities’ cancer support services even include specialized programs, support groups, even summer camps for kids from ages 6 and up. If your community is one of those, it is worthwhile to get your kids into these programs. It provides a social bonding of kids with the same worries and fears and frustrations, and they do truly benefit over the months and years as part of that peer group. If your community does not offer such programs, check your insurance benefits to see if there are mental health services for counseling your kids, including support groups and family counseling.

In addition to the advice offered online, some cancer centers offer psychosocial services that include help with how to handle the delicate first conversations when you share with your young children the news of your cancer diagnosis.

And there are a few children’s books that focus on stories about a parent or grandparent who has cancer, written from the viewpoint of a younger child, tween or teen. If you decide to get one of these books, make sure that you read them first, yourself, to see if they make sense and apply to your family circumstances.

There is one set of books for younger kids ages 2-6 (one for a sick parent and another for a sick grandparent) written by Kathleen McCue, called “Someone I Love is Sick.” It is (like My Notebook) published as a loose-leaf binder, with a plastic pocket to put the pages that don’t “match” your family.You can read to your children your hand-selected pages of the book. Maybe in a few months or a year, you may add and subtract pages, as appropriate.

All the above, is stuff that I have pieced together from authorities and resources I have researched.

Now, I have my own two cents to add: Please, look for advice and resources that do not further complicate or adversely affect your own efforts to cope, but rather offers a path for you to do the best for your kids but still focus on all the aspects of you and your whole family living with cancer. I am asking you, and the other adult members of your home team, to remember that there is no right or wrong way to do this. Some days, you will think you really got it right and some days, not so much.But it serves no one in the family well, if you are not only sick and fighting your disease, but also making yourself sicker worrying that your kids are being neglected while you are on this journey.

If you have any questions or comments or would like to share your own stories, please feel free to contact me at barbara@newcancerpatient.org

Please, look for advice and resources that do not further complicate or adversely affect your own efforts to cope, but rather offers a path for you to do the best for your kids but still focus on all the aspects of you and your whole family living with cancer.

How to Have the Cancer Talk with Children

Fear of having cancer is not unusual, but there are a few actions you can take to help calm those fears:

Acknowledge your fears and look for ways to deal with your feelings. Many people try to ignore or hide “negative” feelings like anxiety and fear. Ignoring them only makes them grow stronger and potentially become overwhelming. Talking about them may help you discover the reasons behind them. You can also write down your thoughts in a journal.

Criticizing yourself for being afraid or telling yourself not to worry will not likely make these feelings go away. Accept that you are experiencing some anxiety. Sometimes, talking to your health care specialist may help you realize that what you are afraid of is probably unlikely to happen. You can also join a support group or talk to a therapist.

Knowing your cancer risk or prognosis and planning for the future can help you feel more in control of your health.

The surest way to know you don’t have cancer is to complete the screenings your physician recommends.

Finding ways to cope with stress will help lower your level of anxiety. Try different ways of dealing with stress to find out what works best for you. These might include:

Spending time with and friends and family;

Focusing on hobbies and other things you enjoy;

Meditating, taking a walk, or enjoying a bubble bath;

Practicing yoga or other forms of exercise;

Watching a funny movie or reading a funny book, and

Remember that many discomforts like colds, headaches or achy joints are normal. Your 

Although no single type of food can protect you against cancer, an overall healthy diet can support the immune system and improve your well-being. Healthy habits like exercising regularly, eating nutritious meals, and getting enough sleep can help you feel better, both emotionally and physically. Avoiding unhealthy habits, like excessive drinking or smoking, can help you feel like you have more control over your health.

Here are some other diet and activity recommendations for cancer prevention 

Carry as little extra body fat as possible, but don’t become underweight;

Practice physical activity for at least half an hour every day;

Avoid using supplements unless recommended by your medical professional;

Eat more vegetables, whole grains, fruits and legumes (like beans);

Avoid sweetened drinks and limit the consumption of added-sugar foods;

Limit your consumption of processed meats;

If any, limit your daily intake to two alcoholic drinks for men and one for women, and

Fear of having cancer is not unusual, but there are a few actions you can take to help calm those fears

Tips for Facing Your Cancer Fears

There are moments in a person’s life that mean that a big change is coming. Those moments include graduation day, getting married, and having a child.

On March 15, 2019, I received a phone call that would alter the course of my life in ways that I couldn’t possibly have imagined. On the other end was my 27-year-old daughter and I sat dazed and confused as she tearfully said, “Mom … it’s cancer.”

The first thought I had was, “But you’re too young.” That is the course of my denial in a nutshell. When she first told me that she was investigating the lump she had found in the shower, I never once acknowledged that it might be cancer. I did online research about all the other things it could be because there was no way it was worst-case scenario.

I have never been more unprepared for news in my life.

I was able to pack up and move my life thousands of miles away from home and move into her one-bedroom apartment where I stayed for almost a year. I am more grateful than I can express that our relationship allowed us to dance around each other, both literally and figuratively, because I needed to be there like I need water to survive.

There were times when the anger and anxiety were so huge that there was barely room for either of us to breathe. There were times when we laughed so hard our sides ached (and I’ll admit I might have peed myself a little). There were times when we had to retreat to our corners because the fear had manifested into an ugly beast that gnashed its teeth and engulfed us with its foul breath. But there were also times of peace when the universe allowed her to not feel so much pain, so much sorrow, so much betrayal.

I thought I knew what was coming for her. One thing that I learned from holding her hand through the surgeries, treatments and various things she took or did to help with the side effects of the surgeries and treatments, as well as the added things you have to do to manage the side effects of THOSE (I’m sure you get the picture) was that my knowledge was woefully lacking.

There were many general pieces of information out there that apply to all women diagnosed with breast cancer, but when I went to look for resources specifically for people like me, mothers of young women going through the experience, there wasn’t a lot for me to find. And believe me, I’m a magical unicorn when it comes to Googling.

One of my biggest “aha” moments about how much outliers my daughter and I were happened in the radiation waiting room. It was winter, so both of us were wearing hats to keep warm, and when it was she, not I, who got up to go in for treatment the puppy-dog-head-tilt moments happened every time.

I could see the other patients and their family members struggle to reconcile what they were seeing, the innocence bubble burst. They would make eye contact with me and most of the time I would just have to look away. I just didn’t have room for their own shock and sorrow.

I am overjoyed to be able to say that the treatments worked, and my daughter is in full remission. Now I am living in “The After”. “The Before” is when you live in a world where your child did not have cancer.When you did not have to think about what it might be like if the battle were lost. In “The After” it is sharing a significantly dark sense of humor with your child talking about exactly where you write in a dating profile that you’re a breast cancer survivor and that you still have both your boobs.

In “The After” one thing has become perfectly clear. There is no end date to cancer. There is just The End …

And so, we go on, with the MRI’s and exams to check and see if the monster has returned. With me looking at my phone every time she calls hoping beyond all measure that all I’ll hear is … “Hey Mom … how ya doin’?”

I received a phone call that would alter the course of my life in ways that I couldn’t possibly have imagined. On the other end was my 27-year-old daughter and I sat dazed and confused as she tearfully said, “Mom … it’s cancer.”

You’re Never Prepared to Learn Your Adult Child Has Cancer

By my fifth and final colonoscopy, I already knew what was coming.

But prior to that moment, I had stubbornly refused to get a colonoscopy for years. The doctors would set up the appointment and be very stern with me, but I would cancel. I even met with the gastroenterologist once and still canceled. Eventually, they didn't want to set up the appointment for me, but they persevered.

For several years I was sure nothing was wrong. I have lived a pretty healthy life. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t drink, except socially. And, I didn’t do drugs.

Plus, I could not get over the idea of someone inserting a camera into my butt. Besides, other than my mother’s breast cancer that never returned after a lumpectomy, there was no cancer history in my family. So, doing this colonoscopy was just one of those things they made me do just because I turned 55. And, I was fine.

Each time I would fill the prescriptions for the colonoscopy prep to drink the night before. But I would cancel the day before. In fact, I canceled four times over the course of three years. The doctors even sent me home with various ways to take a sample of my bowel movement and mail it in. I never did this simple procedure either.

I did not know it at the time, but something terrible was happening. I've had a hemorrhoid since my son was born decades earlier. Occasionally it bled. And by late 2018, I realized I was bleeding more heavily. In fact, I was bleeding with almost every bowel movement. But it wasn't until the fatigue set in that I took this seriously. I was tired all the time. And then I lost 10 pounds very quickly. I am a large woman and that never happens.

Despite this, I still found one more way to delay a colonoscopy. In late 2018 I told my husband I would wait until the new year because of insurance. I canceled the fourth appointment and rebooked it for January 9, 2019.

My gastroenterologist performed so many colonoscopies he didn't meet with some patients until the day of the procedure. Instead his nurses called, sent you a long application form to fill out and return, told you how to prepare and sent in the prescription of cherry flavored yuck to drink. As it turned out, this was my kind of doctor. Because if I canceled this time, I was canceling a surgical room and staff.

The night before my procedure, I drank all the gross cherry flavored liquid preps that friends had told me is the worst part. But I didn’t agree. I think sticking the IV in me and having it take three different nurses to finally get it done the next day was the worst part.

After the IV was set, I was given something intravenously and started to relax quite a bit. I was rolled into the room for the procedure and finally met the doctor. He was sitting and reading my written information I had sent in a few days earlier. He noted my meds and asked me about what I had eaten recently (nothing, and I was ready for an In-N-Out burger as soon as this was over) and if my bowel movements were clear (they were).

The night before my procedure, I had a deep cleansing of my bowels with an urge every hour or so to hit the bathroom. It was simple and I didn't understand why I kept canceling this.

Just before I was put completely under, I admitted out loud for the first time to my doctor, whose face I could not see behind his surgical mask, what my instinct was telling me. I was pretty sure he was going to find cancer and told him why. He told me if he found any, he would be waiting for me to wake up and let me know immediately. I didn't find that particularly reassuring, but OK.

There is too much mystery surrounding a colonoscopy and I'm here to tell you it's completely unwarranted. By the time I was in the room I was completely relaxed. They had me turn onto my left side with the doctor and nurse behind me along with TV screens. The anesthesiologist asked me about an upcoming planned trip to Europe and by the time I said “London and Tusc...” I was out.

I don't remember anything else. After the 30-minute procedure, I was gently awakened by a nurse. My husband was sitting there too. As I began to grasp my surroundings and remember what I was doing in the hospital, the gastroenterologist stuck his head around the curtain and said matter-of-factly, and I'll never forget it, “Denise, we did find cancer. It's five centimeters. We're taking you for a CAT scan now."

After her colonoscopy, Denise talks about what her doctor said that changed her life.

I’ll Never Forget My Doctor’s Words After I Woke Up from My Colonoscopy

It was the summer of 2015. I turned 40 that summer and became a “flattie” just days after my milestone birthday. At that time, I was still fairly new to breast cancer and had no idea what to expect.

I met with the surgeon for the first time and I can still remember our conversation about my size and not having enough skin to reconstruct so he said he could use skin from other parts of my body. I am a smaller person and always have been. I had friends tell me I should gain weight. But gaining weight was not going to help anything; it wouldn’t create extra skin.

Turns out my oncologist was the one running the show, and not the surgeon. And because I was metastatic, he did not want me to have reconstruction. His concern was we wouldn’t be able to see my recurrences as well if I did get reconstructive surgery.

The surgical oncologist and the oncologist had come to an agreement, mastectomy without reconstruction.

If I was going to have a mastectomy without reconstruction, I wanted both breasts removed, which I was told was OK at the beginning of the process. But, about a week before surgery I was told they would be only doing a unilateral mastectomy. In my mind, I felt that I would be much happier with both breasts removed even though I was told this wouldn’t increase my survival.

For symmetry and the hopes that I wouldn’t have to go through any other surgeries, this was my choice.I had to do a little bit of letter writing and cajoling, but it was decided I could have a double mastectomy.I was unknowingly advocating for myself and learning to speak up. So, back to the surgeon to figure this all out.

I was a little nervous at first because the surgeon was younger than me and I didn't even know him. I told him (OK, more like pleaded with him), “Just make my scars flat, even and straight. Please just make it look nice.”

Little did I know at the time, there are surgeons out there who leave extra skin, called a skin sparing mastectomy, just in case. Imagine waking up like that. I’ve seen pictures and it’s not pretty. I was one of the lucky ones. My young surgeon did exactly as I asked, aesthetic flat closure, even before aesthetic flat closure was considered a reconstructive option.

Now, five years later, there are women all over the world advocating for flat closure and starting nonprofits to put flat on the menu and make it a viable choice when it comes to mastectomy. A few of these organizations are Flat Closure Now, Not Putting on a Shirt, Flat Retreat, Flatties Unite, and so many more.

Some of these women even hosted a ball, which I attended, and it happened to be the last normal event pre-COVID 19. These women make me proud to be a “flattie.” What an inspiring night that was to be surrounded by so many who had been through the going flat process and still look and feel beautiful.

If I had to do it all over again, I would still go flat, and make it a double.

There are women all over the world advocating for flat closure and starting nonprofits to put flat on the menu and make it a viable choice when it comes to mastectomy.

Make it A Double: My Decision to Go Flat After Breast Cancer

I was talking with a friend when I saw that my nurse was calling me on the other line. It was a Wednesday afternoon and I was enjoying my usual stroll in the lobby of the office building where I worked. I do not remember much of what happened after I hung up the phone.

I could not feel my knees because it felt like somebody hit them with a baseball bat. I found myself in a meeting room being hugged by one of my co-workers as I was sobbing and screaming.

How could this happen? Maybe it is a mistake. Maybe they made a mistake in a lab. Maybe, just maybe …

I drove home with black mascara running down my cheeks and I tried to pay attention to where I was going, but I could not stop crying.

I was sitting in my SUV in front of my home, glued to my seat, and I wondered how I would reveal the bad news to my sons. How would I tell my family? Will I live? Will I die?

Those questions were racing through my head, but I realized I had to get out of my head if I wanted to keep my sanity. I had to find a new way to be at peace. But first, I had to adjust my perspective.

I called my sister Ingrid in Russia. We have not spoken in a long time, and it was an opportunity to heal our relationship. I often blamed it on the distance and being away from each other, and that we never wrote letters to each other but rather just spoke on the phone or sent the occasional social media message.

She lost her husband to cancer in 2012 and I knew she would understand me. Something in my heart told me to call her. It was late at night and I tried to keep myself together, but I could not. I cried. I was scared. I let it out. I told her I loved her and cared deeply.

That night, she told me something that became my anchor going forward. “Look at this challenge as your quest to discover who you are,” she said. “Remember you are loved, and you are love. It is your journey to accept love again. You always give love and you are afraid to receive love.”

Instead of accepting my cancer diagnosis as a major health challenge, I looked at it as my awakening to see the truth about what truly mattered in my life. It became my mission to heal my body, and for the very first time I felt like a new woman, ready to conquer the world and thrive again. It infused my spirit with courage and faith. I made a tough choice – to keep going and never give up.

Two days later my best friend flew in from Philadelphia. I picked her up at the Nashville airport. We have not seen each other in more than five years and I never expected our reunion would be under such circumstances. She hugged me tight and said in her soft, kind voice, “You will be OK. You will beat it. You will be just fine!”

And I knew right then it was a beginning of something beautiful and exciting in my life. It was my first step to loving myself again.

The next three months revealed what needed to be done. Every day I would learn something new about self-care and practicing mindfulness. One night after seeing my new surgeon, I came home and sat on the floor in the middle of my tiny living room and I prayed to God. I prayed for miracles and asked for guidance.

My intuition led me to Dr. Pat Whitworth, a brilliant breast cancer surgeon with Nashville Breast Center. Suddenly, everyone was telling me about him. Even a lady who ran a local donut shop said, “Honey, he saved my life!”

I believed her while savoring my Bavarian cream donut and sipping on my coffee on a Saturday morning.

The moment the surgeon walked into the room; I just knew he was the right doctor for me. My search stopped right there.

He was different than any other doctor I have met. He knew how to bring me out of my funk and into a state of inner peace. There was a calmness about him. His energy spoke before he did. He helped me see my life in a new light, embrace each moment and never lose hope for the best. His care has helped me win a battle within myself and accept myself for who I am, with all my flaws and all my scars and accept a new title of “Wounded Warrior.” Every time I would experience anxiety, his response would be “Tatyana, find your peace and stay there.”

Since I started my breast cancer journey, I have met a few women who are powerful cancer survivors. They told me that cancer had given them a new lease on life.

Some of the life lessons I have learned include:

Let go of everything that feels lukewarm or toxic,

Stop doing things that do not excite you anymore and do something kind for yourself, and

Forgive often and say “I love you” without fear of looking stupid.

Breast cancer makes you wiser and more mature, but it also opens your heart to see that love is around you.

Removing cancer was only a fresh beginning of discovering my true purpose in life.

Cancer also taught me another big lesson about trusting myself and listening to my intuition. The most beautiful gift you can give to yourself is to listen to your inner voice, the one you are so afraid to trust and often you tend to brush it off, saying “You are thinking too much!”

Cancer has showed me something that I initially did not want to accept, which was to love myself.

Tatyana Gann is a publicity strategist, mindset coach, writer, lifestyle advocate and breast cancer thriver. Her aim is to inspire women to tell their story to heal their mind and body. Tatyana resides in Nashville with her two sons. You can follow her on 

Breast cancer makes you wiser and more mature, but it also opens your heart to see that love is around you. It has showed me something that I initially did not want to accept, which was to love myself.

Breast Cancer Taught Me to Love Myself

Managing Fears During Cancer Discovery and Diagnosis

You cannot hide from your cancer! It’s important that you quickly face it! Knowledge is power, so learn about the kind of cancer you have, gather the details about its stage and prognosis. Then you can move on to finding out how to take control and what you can do: What tests and treatments are available? What are the benefits and risks of each?

This information will arm you with knowledge to help you do whatever you can to be sure that you’re getting the best possible treatment, which is empowering.

Another part of easing your fears during this time can be connecting with a physician with whom you can develop confidence and trust. Your physician will guide you through the whole journey ahead of you.

You can also discover your own strengths and weaknesses, your personal beliefs as well as how others can help you and who your friends are in this challenging time.

With all this crucial information, you can take charge of your life and redirect it.

Building a Medical Plan for Cancer Treatment

The most difficult part of your journey will be at the beginning; between diagnosis and when a 

 is made. It’s a time of shock and great uncertainty. Simply knowing that this period is the worst can make it more bearable!

As you begin to develop your treatment plan, consider getting several opinions. It’s reassuring to hear the same options recommended by different doctors.

And once you have chosen the right physician, you can relax a little and know that your specialist will do their absolute best for you.

Managing Anxiety During Cancer Treatment Appointments

You will have to see your doctor many times. Despite their best intentions, time spent waiting can sometimes be prolonged, especially if you have multiple 

 scheduled on the same day. Make sure you bring a pillow, a crossword puzzle or even a laptop or a tablet if it helps you feel more comfortable. As long as you’re not so loud that you disturb other patients, the staff won’t mind these coping tools.

It’s also a good idea to write down all your questions and bring them with you to every visit. Keeping a notebook or journal can help you see just how far you’ve come since the beginning of your journey and can be a safe place to share even your scariest or angriest thoughts.

While going through your therapy, don’t get down on yourself if you do not follow every direction explicitly. You’re the one going through your individual experience and therapy. Feel free to express your wishes to your physician. If you think some courses of therapy would be too hard for you, speak up.

Cancer Treatment Testing and Waiting for Results

Throughout your therapy, there will be visits for urine and blood tests and body scans. Generally, they shouldn’t be difficult, but they can cause some anxiety. MRI scans seem to cause the most concern, but results provided by an MRI are often superior to conventional scans. Keep your eyes closed and visualize being somewhere on a beach or a place you enjoy. Practice slow and even breathing.

Your physician may also give you medication to help you relax.

Waiting for test results can also be scary. Ask your physician to call you back as soon as possible. They will be sensitive to your anxiety. If you miss that call, don’t wait multiple days to follow up on your results.

Distract yourself with activities and people that make you happy and remind yourself of how many proactive steps you’ve taken to care for yourself mentally and emotionally as well as physically.

Feeling overwhelmed and scared during cancer treatment is completely normal. Here are some tips to help patients conquer their fears each step of the way.

Helpful Tips for Conquering Fears During Cancer Treatment

I recently moderated a virtual workshop for seven patients with cancer who were diagnosed within the past six months, along with their primary caregivers. And the subject of clinical trials came up.

As someone who spent 30 years designing clinical trials and analyzing outcomes for the National Cancer Institute, I recently put together a resource for newly diagnosed patients with cancer. One of the sections in the resource is called “Getting Treatment: The Basics of Cancer Care, Standard Treatment vs. Clinical Trials.”

But, as I learned during the workshop, it seems that many want more information regarding the topic of clinical trials.

There were three people in the workshop who had just been diagnosed and were still looking at what their treatment options might be, once their differential diagnoses were completed. Two more were diagnosed less than three months ago, with very serious stage 3 and 4 cancers. Two more participants were diagnosed four months ago, had undergone surgery, and were already receiving standard treatment.

All of them were still fuzzy on the idea of clinical trials and wanted to know if they should be considering them. In fact, depending on the type and site of the cancer, and where they were willing to go for treatment, any of them might be a candidate for participating in a clinical trial.

None of them had been told that there was a standard treatment available for their cancer that worked extremely well in other patients who shared the same characteristics as themselves (for example, age, gender, race).

If I were in their place, I’d want to check out other treatment options. They all agreed they would like to check further into clinical trials and asked for basic information on why, and how to go about it.

So, first, here are the basic reasons why you might want to consider becoming a participant in a clinical trial.If you:

Have a cancer for which there is currently no standard treatment that has been shown to be routinely effective in reducing or curing your cancer.

Have a cancer for which the standard treatment has been effective in some patients, but not shown to be effective for many others.

Are diagnosed with a later stage disease or were treated for your cancer, but it recurred later.

Have a cancer for which the standard treatment has been effective, but for which the researchers are looking for new ways to reduce the side effects or to find new approaches that work as well or better than standard treatment.

Want to consider a treatment that will take less time, cost less, or need less radical surgery or high doses, but still have the same or better outcome.

Clinical trials are basically studies funded by the government, by other cancer foundations, and by pharmaceutical and medical device companies who are developing new cancer-fighting treatments and techniques.

The results of clinical trial studies, called “treatment outcomes” may include better methods for eliminating a cancer tumor or cancer cells, shrinking the tumor’s size, stopping the cancer cells from multiplying, keeping cancer from spreading, and/or keeping it from coming back. Or, the outcomes may focus on easing post-treatment nausea, avoiding side effects, bolstering the immune system’s defense against infection or other secondary illnesses, or managing pain. These second set of treatment outcomes may be of benefit to patients, even if they have already begun a standard course of treatment.

There are, however, two misconceptions about clinical trials. First, that patients who are being treated are human “guinea pigs.” I reassure patients that laboratory testing of these treatments has been exhaustive before it reaches being studied in humans. Also, if a patient participates in a study assessing a drug, they will not be given a “sugar pill,” or placebo, instead of a cancer treatment drug or drugs. They will either receive the new treatment or treatment protocol that is the subject of the study, or they will receive the standard treatment.

The amount of available clinical trials can vary from none to many depending on the disease. A trial may be available for a patient, but it could be in another part of the country and patients need to determine if they want to go there for treatment. Or, one could exist, but patients may be excluded from participating for a variety of reasons.

Eligibility requirements are developed when a study is designed to protect the volunteer patients from any undue risk, and to make the results of the research more reliable.

Understand that it is possible that a doctor just doesn’t know about any, or all, trials for a type of cancer. They could also have a bias against clinical trials or may say they are too expensive and mostly not covered by insurance.

I would suggest checking them out anyway. A patient, with or without a doctor, can look up which oncology doctors are conducting clinical trials for a specific disease in PDQ, a 

database developed by the National Cancer Institute

. It is updated monthly with the latest listings of clinical trials and their criteria for eligibility. It is an extensive list, although it excludes many trials from drug companies’ trials or ones funded solely by drug companies, without NCI funding. For more information on company-sponsored trials, 

Many drug companies often bear costs associated with their trials and may pay patients for participating. Also, many government-funded trials are conducted at cancer centers that have found financial resources to help patients whose insurance is inadequate.

Lastly, I advise patients not to think they aren’t treatable if they don’t qualify for a study. They may be eligible for another trial, whether it’s an ongoing one or happening later.

A former clinical trial designer at the National Cancer Institute offers patients with cancer advice on why they should consider joining clinical trials and provides insight into two common misconceptions about trials.