Blog|Articles|August 5, 2026

After Breast Cancer, Finding the Time and Space to Live Again

Author(s)Laura Yeager
Fact checked by: Quincy Attobrah
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Key Takeaways

  • Two breast cancer episodes over 15 years constrained broader life activities, underscoring how prolonged survivorship can narrow time, finances, and psychological reserve beyond direct medical demands.
  • A full kitchen gut renovation functioned as a proxy for recovery, redirecting focus from surveillance and treatment environments toward rebuilding routine identity and domestic normalcy.
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After breast cancer, one survivor reflects on reclaiming her life by remodeling her kitchen and embracing the freedom to focus on something beyond cancer.

For the past 15 years, since 2011, we've been a "cancer family." My first breast cancer was diagnosed in 2011, and the second one, in 2016. During this period, we've attended to my health, and I've worked to recover from these illnesses. We haven't done much else. Oh, we've traveled a little, but not out of the country on a major trip. And we certainly haven't done any massive remodeling, even though our carpeting is looking its age (29 years old), and our furniture is sagging.

Moving Beyond Cancer and Back to Everyday Life

Well, this summer, we decided that we could attend to something other than cancer. We're remodeling our kitchen—not just replacing the countertop, but completely gutting and remaking the room from the floor up.

For the last six weeks, we've "lived with" George and Mike, two excellent builders who have worked magic in our kitchen. They've laid new flooring, installed new cabinets, added new lighting, painted the walls a new color (out went the old powder blue), glued down a new backsplash, wired and plugged in new appliances, and supervised the placement of a new granite countertop.

My focus shifted from hospitals and treatment rooms to our little kitchen, which is getting a totally upgraded new look.

If you want to feel like a healthy individual, get a kitchen redo.

A Different Kind of Setback

The kitchen is almost finished. Today, the countertop folks brought out the heavy granite slab, but they had to take it back to the factory because they had neglected to cut the hole for the cooktop. This was partially our fault because we had forgotten to mention that we were using one. To compensate for our mistake, we'd taken the cooktop specifications to the countertop company, but somehow the paperwork got lost in the process.

As I write, I am waiting for the countertop gentlemen to return and finally lay the heavy stone top on our lovely new cream-colored cabinets.

As in the cancer process, things go awry during home remodeling. One must be prepared for setbacks and unexpected trouble. But with good doctors and nurses—as well as good builders and others in the remodeling business—your problems can be solved, and you can come out on top: alive and well, with a beautiful new environment in which to live and entertain.

Rebuilding More Than a Kitchen

It is my wish to have a kitchen party—a gathering in our newly remodeled space. I envision inviting close friends and serving hors d'oeuvres and mixed drinks.

With our old kitchen, I wouldn't have dreamed of hosting anyone there. The flooring was ripped, the cabinets were more than 60 years old, the paint was chipped, and the appliances were just hanging on. It was a mess.

I remember once when I'd had surgery for one of my breast cancers, and I was sent to a specialist to try to obtain pain medication because I had developed a bad infection in my chest. When I took off my top, she took one look at me and remarked, "You're a mess."

I'll never forget that comment, but both people and homes deteriorate and eventually need attention.

Having the Time, Money and Head Space to Heal

In short, I've come out of the medical woods and into the land of the living, where I've remade the most important room in my home—with the help of my dear husband.

All I know is that I could have never taken on a complete remodel of anything if I didn't have the head space, the time and the money. I certainly didn't have those things during the cancer years.

To me, this kitchen represents more than new cabinets and granite countertops. It represents healing. It represents moving forward. It represents having enough emotional room in my life to worry about something as ordinary as a misplaced countertop cutout instead of the next scan or doctor's appointment.

Stop in for a drink next time you're in town.

Mi casa es su casa.

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