For a list of survivor stories by cancer type, click the Type of Cancer and follow the link at the bottom of the page.
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.
Still Standing with Late-Stage Lung Cancer
by Joseph Liguori
If I’ve learned anything from my battle with cancer, it’s that cancer can find anyone; it doesn’t discriminate. But more importantly, I’ve learned that a frightening and bleak cancer diagnosis is not necessarily a death sentence.
I'm Not Waiting to Live
by Melissa J. Gallagher
Patience is a necessary virtue. We all have heard countless times throughout our lives that in order to succeed, we must be patient. To achieve what we want in life, we simply must wait. I find myself repeatedly telling my own children, “Please, be patient. Wait.” But there are certain situations in which we can’t wait; we have to act. Fighting cancer is one of them.
Words of Wisdom from “The Running Rabbi”
by Rabbi Hirshel Jaffe
In 1978, I bounded across the finish line of the New York City Marathon wearing a shirt identifying me as “The Running Rabbi.” I was equally as tireless in my calling as a rabbi in Newburgh, NY. I had marched for civil rights in the 1960s, rallied to free Soviet Jews, and in 1980 visited the hostages held in Iran. I’d never been sick in my life. I felt indestructible. That was then.
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.