Give me a situation and I'll find a silver lining. There are lots of things to darken our days when we're in a cancer battle, but we can still find silver linings and maybe even some gratitude as we enter Fall.
I'm thankful for the wake-up call to find my purpose, to discover my true dreams, finally love my family fully and live my right life.
When I was diagnosed with recurrent cervical cancer in Feb 2016, I was prepared to do things: change my diet, exercise, find alternative health treatments like acupuncture. What I didn't expect was I would have to face all the emotional demons in my very large closet of repressed emotions in order to heal.
“When I was sick with incurable cancer, the hardest part of healing was learning to lean on others. Suddenly, the skill that got me into and through college, helped me create a life in New York City and build a successful career — fierce independence — was useless in my cancer journey. Good-natured people wanted to help but didn’t know how, nor did I know what to ask for.”
Every cancer parent faces a brutal decision: how much and what do I tell the kids about my cancer? Here's a story that explains why I opted for full transparency and never regretted it.
I was the one with cancer in my body,
but everyone else I loved was
equally shocked, scared and desperate.
This weekend I dragged my husband to a "Getting the Love You Want" couples workshop at a Massachusetts retreat center. I want to get my marriage right. I want us to be happy when we see each other. I almost died, I don't have time to live a half life anymore. Here are 3 nuggets I learned that we can all work on our relationship.
It’s a bit late in the summer to be starting a summer reading list, but cancer doesn't take the summer off so I thought it was still worth the time to give a little reading material to anyone battling cancer, or people that love someone battling cancer. So while you're at the pool or beach, grab one of these five books to take some control back of your healing.
I vowed to make summer 2017 one to remember. If this was going to be my last hurrah, I would give my son a summer full of memories. Alternatively, if I continued to thrive, well then, we had the makings of a beautiful photo album.
I just celebrated the one year anniversary of my expiration day—the day conventional medicine predicted I would prematurely die from recurrent cervical cancer. I was given fifteen months to live when I was diagnosed in Feb 2016. That meant I needed to have my affairs in order on or around my forty-fifth birthday in May 2017.