I Once Spent Time on the Mountaintop
by Harriet Cox
When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, I felt a mental numbness. Because I didn’t hurt, it was hard to believe that I had a life-threatening disease. As time wore on and treatment was scheduled, I began to believe it, and the numbness was replaced with a fear and despondency so strong that I struggled through each day.
The Transformative Power of Cancer
by Meme Hieneman, PhD
My friends and family say I have changed since I was diagnosed with cancer, that now I am often unpredictable. And they are right. Cancer has caused me to question all that I thought I believed and wanted. My moods vary from peaceful to irritable, ecstatic to depressed. I am mediating an ongoing conflict between who I was before, who I am now, and who I ultimately hope to be.
Reclaiming My Life after Metastatic Breast Cancer
by Jean Rymon
The first thing my oncologist stressed to me after I was diagnosed with breast cancer was the importance of my attitude and support network. To this day, I continue to live by that advice.
I Had Cancer on My Wedding Day
by Crystal Brown-Tatum
As I flip through my wedding album, all of the details are a blur. I don’t notice the flowers or the detailed cake. What I cherish is the genuine smile on my face that reflects the love in my heart for so many things. Dazzling in my strapless wedding gown, little did I know I had breast cancer. Ironic isn’t it? I look so happy while cancer was dwelling inside me.
When Chemo Brain Follows You Home
by Beth Leibson
We sat on comfy sofas talking about fainting. Passing out was frightening, embarrassing, and seemingly inevitable. Someone was listing the various places we, as a cancer support group, had lost consciousness: the workplace, the schoolyard, on the way home from chemotherapy.
Battling Breast Cancer the SECOND Time Around
by Lisa Boccard
In 2003, I was diagnosed a second time with breast cancer. But this time, it was metastatic breast cancer. After eleven years of surviving Stage III breast cancer, I found myself once again fighting for my life. This time around is much different than the first time – I will be treated for this disease for the rest of my life.
It’s Not So Bad - You Are a Survivor
by Patricia A. Bauer
The waiting room is comprised of one small loveseat in a brightly flowered pattern. Two straight-back chairs of an anemic maroon color join a small, generic lamp that claims a small space on the magazine-laden table. Although a magazine wall-holder clings to the wall, it is empty. A square mirror that is desperately crying out for a squirt of glass cleaner is suspended above the table. This completes my first vision of the waiting room I would soon come to know very well.
My Cancer Philosophy
by Liora Hess
In the spring of 2007, about a month before my 39th birthday, my reading shifted to spiritual topics. I started meditating daily and began a serious effort to de-clutter my home and simplify my life. Looking back now, I see that I was anticipating something, though I didn’t know it at the time.