This was not (and sometimes still isn’t) easy. I blamed and shamed my way through surgery and treatment. As a result, I held my breast cancer diagnosis close to my heart, not really talking about it or sharing about my experiences with anyone beyond my tight circle of confidants. It wasn’t until a friend pushed me to write an article about my experience with breast cancer that I started to crack open and search for a different way to go through it ..read more

I call Tamoxifen hot flashes: bonfires with a flood. Because when one hits you, it feels like your entire body is going up in flames right before it’s soaked in a flood of hair-flattening, body-drenching sweat. It’s horrible and exhausting, never mind totally gross. And there was nothing I wouldn’t do to avoid having one. Even giving up sugar ..read more

Firstly, I want to say that I am not sharing my story to encourage anyone to quit treatment. Please don’t! This is risky. I’m really rolling the dice here. I am choosing my quality of life over longevity. That’s not for everyone. I had been unable to tolerate any of the aromatase inhibitors (AI; a type of hormonal therapy used to lower estrogen levels to slow or stop cancer growth), so I felt I had little choice but to pursue other options ..read more

I don’t need to tell you what was happening between 2019 and 2023. By May of 2022, I’d received four COVID-19 vaccinations and felt confident to attend a musical production with my niece. We were front row centre and seemed to be the only patrons with masks, soon discarded I must confess. When I found myself coughing a few days later I assumed it was COVID that I’d picked up in the theatre and left it to my presumed immunity to deal with ..read more

I grew up as the daughter of a mother who battled lymphoma for 10 grueling years, only to be taken away by leukemia in the end. As a teenager, I accompanied her through this harrowing journey, unaware that I was accumulating PTSD along the way. Health and wellness became my fixation, a supposed guarantee against cancer. But this obsession was rooted in fear – fear so profound that I avoided having children, terrified of subjecting them to the horrors I witnessed with my mother's treatments ..read more

Feel it on the first. Know your lemons. Check your boobies. Get in touch with them apples. I never noticed these catch phrases written on social media to inspire women to do monthly breast self-exams until after I was diagnosed. Well after too, like, when I was recovering from having had breast cancer surgery and treatment. Ironic, isn’t it? More ironic is the fact that I never really did regular breast self-examinations on my boobs and when I did, they were always half-hearted, like an afterthought ..read more

During treatment, when I laid on the couch or in bed recuperating, I found support in a promise to seek and find more joy and purpose in my life once I resurfaced from feeling deep, deep under water. I kept it too, by returning to coaching competitive synchronized swimming athletes after a near 20-year hiatus from the sport. This has been incredibly rewarding. Along with the support of joy it continues to give me, coaching allows me to focus my energy and attention on others instead of on myself and to give back and support a community of young athletes I believe in very much ..read more

I am writing this from my hospital bed. One of many cancer-related hospital stays and visits. This hospital has become my second home. Fortunately, it’s a great hospital. That doesn’t mean I want to spend a lot of time here though. But that is inevitable when you have metastatic breast cancer, otherwise known as mBC. That is Stage IV cancer. Cancer that has travelled outside the breast and has metastasized into other areas of the body.&nbsp ..read more

And yet, somehow, each October, breast cancer morphs into being more than a life-taking disease. It becomes a metaphorically branded pink train that clothing, makeup, skincare, jewellery, appliances, hotels, restaurants, fast food chains, and even oil and gas drill bit companies jump onto, brandishing the small pink ribbon as a statement of support ..read more

The room shrunk and all that existed in the world was this radiologist and the screen she remained hyper-focused on. There was near silence in the room as she examined the dense breast tissue from every conceivable angle. Next, she went over and around my fully inverted nipple and through every conceivable angle, and over all the flesh of my breast under my nipple as well. “I don’t like the density of this breast at all,” she finally revealed ..read more