My Health Journey

It was the beginning of November 2025 when I noticed something different about my right breast. The majority of my breast felt unusually hard and had what looked like stretch marks all over it. It wasn't a typical lump, and my breast was hurting, so I didn't think it was breast cancer. I thought it was probably related to my menstrual cycle since I had just finished it.

But when it didn't go away, I started wondering if there was an emotional explanation. My father's first death anniversary had just passed, and I was still carrying so much grief from losing him. I thought maybe my body was reacting to everything I had been going through emotionally.

I scheduled an appointment with my doctor expecting him to tell me that I had a breast cyst. I wasn't expecting anything serious. But after examining me, his expression changed. I could see the concern on his face. He told me that I needed to get a mammogram and an ultrasound immediately.

I went to get the mammogram and ultrasound, still hoping that everything would be okay. While I was there, the radiologist came into the room to speak with me. This had never happened to me before. He told me that I needed to schedule a biopsy immediately because the ultrasound showed a strong possibility that I had breast cancer.

I left the clinic in tears. I was scared. I didn't know what was going to happen next, and I had so many unanswered questions running through my mind.

On February 12, 2026, the biopsy and PET scan confirmed the news I had been dreading. I had Stage 4 invasive ductal carcinoma that was triple-positive for HER2 and had spread to several parts of my body.

Words can't even begin to express how sad and anxious I felt. I was overwhelmed and honestly scared. It was a lot to take in, and there were moments when I couldn't even believe that this was actually happening to me.

After my diagnosis, I quickly had to make some very difficult decisions. How was I going to tell my family and friends? Where was I going to receive treatment? And perhaps the biggest question of all—what was going to happen next?

At the time, I was working as a psychologist and running my own private practice. I had worked hard to build my practice, and I genuinely loved helping my clients. But I knew I needed to focus on my health. I made the decision to shut down my mental health practice so I could dedicate my time and energy to my treatment and taking care of myself. It was one of the hardest decisions I had ever made, but I knew I needed to put myself first.

By March, I decided to get my care at Memorial Sloan Kettering in New York. I wanted to be somewhere I felt confident in my care and where I could find a team with experience treating my type of cancer.

Thankfully, I found an incredible team there. From the beginning, they gave me hope. They were knowledgeable, compassionate, and made me feel like I wasn't facing this journey alone.

Looking back, I am so grateful that I chose to receive my care there. Finding the right team made such a difference in my journey. I felt supported, heard, and, most importantly, hopeful. After everything I had been through, having doctors who believed in my treatment and reminded me that there was still hope was exactly what I needed.

Shortly before starting treatment, my health began to decline more. I became extremely weak and sick. I had almost no appetite and was constantly vomiting. I couldn't keep food or water down and became severely dehydrated, requiring several trips to urgent care for IV fluids.

There were times when I could barely get out of bed. Even walking felt exhausting.

I had always been independent and used to taking care of myself and everyone around me. Now, I was struggling to do things that I had always taken for granted.

I remember feeling anxious when it was time to start my first chemotherapy treatment, because I had no idea what to expect. I was already feeling incredibly sick and weak, so the thought of starting chemotherapy was frightening.

Then, shortly after my first treatment, I developed pneumonia and had to be hospitalized for a week. I remember feeling overwhelmed and thinking, How much more can my body take? I had just started chemotherapy, was already feeling so sick, and now I was dealing with pneumonia on top of everything else.

It felt like one thing after another, and honestly, it felt like I couldn't catch a break.

As treatment continued, I began experiencing more changes to my body. I started losing my hair, which was another difficult reminder that I was going through cancer treatment. I also lost 20 pounds because I couldn’t keep any food down. My abdomen began retaining a significant amount of fluid, which required a procedure called paracentesis. During the procedure, a needle is used to drain the excess fluid from my abdomen. I had to have this procedure done several times. I was also told that my treatment would put me into medical menopause.

It was a lot to take in and adjust to.

This was around the time I began to struggle with depression. I started losing hope and questioning whether there was even a reason to keep fighting.

Emotionally, I was exhausted. I was tired of being sick, tired of being afraid, and tired of hearing that the cancer had spread.

There were moments when I honestly felt like giving up. I didn't know how much more I could take, and there were times when I couldn't see a way forward.

But I didn't give up. My faith in God, along with the love and support of my friends and family, kept me going. They reminded me that I wasn't alone, even on the days when I felt completely overwhelmed. They prayed for me, checked on me, encouraged me, and continued to be there when I needed them most.

As my energy slowly started to improve, I began to focus on more than just following my doctors' treatment plan. I wanted to take a more active role in taking care of myself and started focusing on healing my mind, body, and soul.

For my mind, I started journaling, which gave me a place to process my thoughts and feelings. I began working on releasing past hurts and resentments that I had been holding onto for a long time. I also started doing forgiveness work—not only forgiving other people, but learning to forgive myself as well. I realized that there were things I had been carrying for years, and I was ready to start letting some of them go.

For my body, I started paying more attention to what I was putting into it. I have always been a sweet-tooth and caffeine girl, so I began working on reducing my sugar and caffeine intake. After everything my body had been through, I wanted to be more intentional about taking care of it and giving it what it needed.

For my soul, I began focusing more on my faith. I had always believed in God, but my best friend really helped me develop a deeper relationship with Him. She taught me more about God. His miraculous ways, and how to pray. Through her guidance, I began to understand my faith in a different way and learned to trust God more with my healing and my journey.

Taking care of my mind, body, and soul became an important part of my healing. I realized that while my doctors were taking care of the medical side of my treatment, there were also things I could do to take care of myself from the inside out.

Fast forward seven months, and I am cancer-free.

Sometimes I still have a hard time believing how far I have come. There were moments when I didn't know if I was going to make it through, and times when I felt like giving up. But today, I am here. I feel energized, at peace, and genuinely joyful, with a deeper appreciation for life.

This healing journey has taught me so much about faith, gratitude, and what truly matters in life.

It taught me to have faith in God even when things don't look good. There were times when I kept getting bad reports and hearing that the cancer had spread, and it was hard to understand how things could possibly get better. But I learned that faith isn't about having all the answers or knowing how everything will turn out. It's about continuing to trust God even when you can't see the outcome.

It also taught me to be more grateful. Before my diagnosis, I don't think I realized how easy it was to take the simplest things for granted. Now, I find myself appreciating things I once barely thought about—being able to eat and drink without feeling nauseous, getting out of bed without needing several minutes to get myself up, walking a distance without becoming exhausted, and having enough energy to sit and talk with the people I love.

I'm also grateful for the people who showed up for me. This experience taught me who my true friends are. I saw who was there when I wasn't able to give anything back, when I was sick, and when I needed support. I will never forget the people who checked on me, prayed for me, helped me, and made difficult days a little easier.

Before my diagnosis, I was incredibly stressed and constantly giving to everyone else. I was always taking care of other people, showing up for others, and trying to keep everything together, but I wasn't giving myself the same care and attention. I was often very hard on myself and, as a psychologist, I realized that I didn't always practice what I preached. I knew the importance of self-care, setting boundaries, and giving yourself grace, but I wasn't always giving those things to myself. By the time I was diagnosed, I had very little energy left for myself.

This journey has changed the way I look at life. I don't want to rush through it or wait for something big to happen before I allow myself to appreciate it. I want to notice the small things, be present for the moments I have, take care of myself, and remain grateful for the life I have been given.

So if you are in a place right now where you feel like giving up, please don't.

I know what it feels like to hear bad news, to feel exhausted, and to wonder how much more you can take. I know what it feels like when you can't see how things could possibly get better.

But keep going. Have faith, even when things don't look the way you hoped they would. Trust that things can change, even when you can't see how yet. Take it one day, one moment, and one step at a time.

You may not know what the next chapter holds, but don't give up on your story. Keep believing, keep praying, and keep moving forward.

There is still hope.