My darkest moment wasn’t the cancer itself so much as having to share my diagnosis with my closest family members. In some ways, I was embarrassed to say the word leukemia. I worried that people would feel sorry for me or worry that they would lose me to the disease.Read More
I’ve also always sensed that I’d have to overcome a health hurdle in my 50s—and if I survived, I thought I’d live to be 88. The breast cancer experience didn’t feel as scary as I’d envisioned. I was back to life as usual and tried to figure out what having cancer was supposed to mean.Read More
Someone talked to me when I could barely walk. That made all the difference in the world, to believe that I could be well one day, too. I find I “have to” talk to people. I didn’t know how to quilt, but I learned so I could deliver a piece of security and love while someone is enduring chemotherapy. I do my very best to keep in touch with the new people that have come into my life.Read More
Yet, as my mother used to say, “You can’t un-ring a bell.” I did contract ovarian cancer, and it taught me that all I had gone through with breast cancer was a walk in the park compared to the complexities and difficulties of treating ovarian cancer.
I was almost gone by the time ovarian cancer was diagnosed, and no one expected me to survive the first occurrence, much less all the recurrences that have followed. The surgeries, the complications, the chemotherapies – they all left me feeling flayed alive, stripped down layer by layer, and abandoned in heaps and piles all over a room I could not leave.Read More
My pre-cancer self was innocent and unsuspecting of any health issues; arrogant in her healthiness and immortality. I’d tell her to listen to her body. Don’t ignore the signs that she’s ill. I’d also tell her that she’s strong. Much stronger than she gives herself credit. And that, despite the unbearable hardships she’d face in the coming year, she’d find a wear to bear it. She would come to own the word ‘survivor’ by showing up to the cancer center every day, making soul connections as she fought her way back to life.Read More
The darkest moment in my cancer journey was initially finding out in 2007. I was mortified. I could not wrap my mind around the diagnosis. I was only 36 years old and healthy as a horse. It was like it came out of the blue. Also, after the first round of chemotherapy, I had Neutropenia, low white blood cell count. The shots to remedy the condition made me so sick, I could not lift my head off the pillow.
It was some scary times. It was scary being bald. The wigs helped me so much but I really enjoy my own hair. I was happy to have my hair back.Read More
Without a doubt, a cancer diagnosis is a very dark moment all by itself. But there are a million other things affected by it. At my diagnosis, I was a newlywed and my eldest son (a career Air Force intelligence agent) was about to deploy to Afghanistan. I gave my new husband permission to leave, not knowing what the future held for me. And I was terrified he’d take me up on it. Equally frightening was my son’s safety, which actually overshadowed my own fear of death.Read More
Whether you’re a sister survivor, a caregiver, the loved one of a survivor, an advocate, or just in search of some truly inspirational reading, welcome!
As with everything else A2ndAct.org does, our blog’s purpose is to support and celebrate women survivors as they give back to the greater good in their 2nd Acts. The voices here come from all over the world. Their stories will amaze you, and, we hope, inspire you to begin your own 2nd Act.Read More
Our first official co-branded event was to bring Annie Parker to town for screening of the award-winning film, “Annie Parker Decoded.” It was inspiring, motivating, and great time! And we’re cooking up much more cross-border fun. Till the next event, we hope you’ll enjoy this gallery of photos. And if you missed the event – […]Read More