Go to Your Happy Place
by Ginger Johnson
Some people say that the cancer experience is like drinking from a fire hose – overwhelming. I tend to disagree. Adversity has the ability to make us better if we choose not to let it make us bitter.
Divine Secrets of the Ta-Ta Sisterhood
by Joanna Chapman
It can be really hard to make treatment decisions.
2. Seek out your pink tribe, the group that feels right to you.
3. Remember that it’s emotionally exhausting for your loved ones too.
Let’s Be Honest …
by Letty Cottin Pogrebin
Giving your friend with cancer permission to tell you the truth about what they want and what they’re feeling doesn’t mean they have to tell you absolutely everything. When friends of mine asked how I was doing during breast cancer, I used to answer in detail – until I started noticing how often their eyes glazed over.
Still Struggling with Post-Cancer Loneliness?
by Debbie Woodbury
I’m OK with solitude. In fact, I crave it. What I’m not OK with is loneliness. Before my breast cancer diagnosis and mastectomy, I thought I knew what loneliness felt like.
The Hidden Scars of Breast Cancer
by Beverly McKee, MSW, LCSW
As I emerge from a year of treatment for stage III breast cancer, I have 12 new scars. They vary in size, but each one bares a story of survival and a reminder of how much my body has endured in the name of surviving a life-threatening disease.
The Bald Blessing
by Nicole Malato
The other morning I looked into the mirror, just as I do every day. The woman with no wig on her head and no makeup on her face had a very different appearance from the dolled-up version who prefers to shield those around her from what cancer really looks like. This is the real me, a private reality that often brings sadness to my heart as I examine my reflection.
Cancer Has Shown Me That …
by Belinda Foreman
I love my children, but it is so difficult to let them
see me this way.
♦ It’s important always to tell the people around me how much I love them.
♦ God does exist, and God is good.
by Yvonne Watterson
Remembering the first time I saw it, nebulous and bright white on a screen in my doctor’s darkened office, the cancer makes me think of Carl Sagan’s “star stuff” quote. It requires magical thinking to accept the notion that human beings are descendants of a supernova that exploded long before we were born, that there is ancient stardust in each of us.