Metastatic Breast Cancer

Today Is The Day I Never Dreamed I Would See – Now What?

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I was wondering how today would hit me. Although I forced myself not to think about it. It’s just another Friday. How is anyone supposed to feel on the anniversary they had their world blow up in their face? It’s a slope I can never seem to navigate comfortably. 

I Don’t Know What To Call Today – Does It Need A Name?


Ten years is a long time to survive in the world of metastatic cancer. This particular year is such a mixed bag of emotions. So many friends are gone, a few are really struggling, and another I’ve known almost as long as I’ve been in these circles and have the utmost respect for will be entering hospice. While I know this is how it all goes, I have conflicting feelings about celebrating my longevity. 
I can count on one hand the people I know who are living double-digit years with MBC. A few, like me, have reached the elusive 10 yr mark. Are there more? No doubt, but I can only go by who I know. Am I grateful? Absolutely, yes. However, I didn’t do anything unique or different than anyone else has or will. 


I wrote about this in an article featured on Health Union’s AdvancedBreastCancer’s website earlier this year. Now that this day is here, I relive that particular day as I do each year. Groundhog day, if you will.


Hour by hour. 


Minute by minute. 


Each action, conversation, and phone call that happened that day is engraved in my memories and replays like a D-list horror movie, whether I want it to or not.

What I Wish I Knew Then And Burden Of Loss


I wish I could go back and tell that frightened and angry younger me that while the doctors meant well, they would be wrong about my prognosis. I would tell her this ride won’t be all pink glitter and sunshine but that she would meet people and have experiences that would fundamentally change her. I would say to her it’s OK to feel all the feelings, that a perpetual smile won’t help or cure her no matter how many insist that positivity is the key. 


Since Tori died, things don’t seem to hit the same way for me. Her humor, her wisdom, and her understanding of all of this was such a comfort. It hasn’t gotten easier. It never will. I have to learn to live without her. I hold on to our conversations, shenanigans, and the other close friends she introduced me to. I know she would be so that we talk regularly and have helped each other.

The Bright Sunshine Burning Away The Gloom


The day is half over, but not the worst part. That comes at 5:30 p.m. That’s when I received THE call. That’s when I finally understood the gravity of those words. When my brain began to swim, I felt like I was drowning. The oxygen left my lungs as I thought of how I had to tell my loved ones and my then 14-year-old son what I knew.


As the clock ticks down to that hour, I will focus on my beautiful granddaughter, Piper, and my second granddaughter, arriving in October. Piper has been the gift I never dared imagine I would know. Her sister, Sophie, will be another blessing in my life. It’s those girls that I will be focusing on.


I don’t know what the scans in November will show, and right now, I choose not to think about that. I know that whatever the results are, I will continue to live a life my granddaughters can be proud of.

Piper and Nanna Today
Piper and Nonna Today

Let’s Talk About Labels

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It seems as though we are obsessed with slapping a label on things associated with illnesses. These labels, regardless of stage, can be isolating to some extent, even off-putting. Other people closely identify with them.

I will be the first person to tell you that cancer is difficult. One size does not fit all, and living through it can fundamentally change a person. While it makes perfect sense to want to celebrate being done with it all and putting it in the review mirror, is it essential to identify with a specific label that constantly reminds you of that experience? And what happens if cancer returns? Does “survivor” still resonate?

So, when did this start, and why has it changed over the years to incorporate a whole month and a specific day dedicated to survivors & survivorship?

To Be Or Not To Be

The term “cancer survivor” was introduced by a US physician Fitzhugh Mullan which appeared in New England Journal of Medicine in 1985. He suggested that survivors included people from diagnosis to the end of life. Distinguishing them from others with a worse prognosis.

Margaret I Fitch, RN, Ph.D, Editor in Chief, Canadian Oncology Nursing Journal wrote an article entitled “Take Care When you use the word survivor in 2019. Fitch acknowledges that there are several ways in which to define the word survivor and that none are universally accepted.

“The word itself likely grew out of the declaration of ‘the war on cancer’, and is connected with a notion of ‘winning a battle’

Margaret Fitch, RN, PhD

Additionally, a small study was conducted in the UK focused on 20 young women (between 18 & 44 yrs of age) that were 1 – 10 yrs post diagnosis. The study acknowledges 23 previous studies that explored how individuals who have had cancer view the word survivor.

The conclusion of this particular study was not unlike the others in that 

“…not all individuals living beyond cancer identify as survivors and that this language may indeed be alienating and harmful for the well‐being of many”

Let’s Try Something New

It’s clear the term survivor does not resonate with everyone who has had a lived experience with cancer. Even those who are no evidence of disease years after completing successful treatment. So, why is it still used? Why can’t we adopt something new that doesn’t alienate anyone while being truthful to everyone’s experiences?

I challenge everyone to stop using survivor and instead say: “lived with” or “living with” cancer. Cancer isn’t who we were or what we are. It’s something that, for whatever reason, happened. W are all doing the best we can to live through or with it.

How do you feel about the term survivor? Let me know in the comments.

Let’s Talk About Bucket Lists

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Bucket lists.

They’ve always made me itch. From time to time I’ll hear friends talk about making their list or they will post pictures with a lead in of “Well, I checked this (whatever ‘this’ is) off my bucket list.” I immediately think about what happens when they finish the list or worse; they don’t get to finish because their health suddenly takes “that turn” no one wants to happen. Because of that, I’ve associated bucket lists with bad karma and never really put one together. I’m already living on borrowed time, why would I wag my finger in the face of fate just begging to get a clap back?? Ask anyone, I can be a pain in the ass with the whole – “no one’s going to tell me what to do, if I want to do it, it’s happening” but this is a whole other animal and I don’t think I’m ready to poke that chupacabra. Know what I mean?

All that being said. I still don’t have a formal list. Not even a Post-It note. However….

There has always been one thing, just one, that I’ve wanted to do. Even before cancer became my dark passenger. I had even kind of resigned myself to the fact that it wasn’t going to happen.

Then . (holy shit) . It . Happened.

What I consider a once in a lifetime opportunity landed in my lap to go home. Well, not where I grew up, but close enough. San Francisco, California. This was huge. I haven’t been home in 25 yrs. I truly believed I was going to die from this hideous disease without ever going back. The ironic thing is the way it worked out, I missed my 30th High School class reunion by four days but that was OK. Totally, absolutely, 100% fine.

This past Wednesday, two days ago Wednesday, I got on a plane and flew west. It was surreal. It really didn’t hit me until the plane touched down. As the plane taxied in and as I looked out the window, the familiar mountains in the horizon was like a hug to my senses. I cried. I cried the same way I am now typing this on the plane back (looking absolutely ridiculous to anyone that may catch a glimpse of me. I need a damn Xanax)

Oh those mountains

San Francisco Neighborhoods are Awesome

I only told one person I was coming home. There was only one person that was important enough to occupy the precious time I had. I only wish it could have been two. Both classmates. One from elementary/junior high and the other from high school. Unfortunately, Laurie, my dear friend from elementary school tragically died in 2011. That will always be my biggest regret, not coming back in time to see her.

I was able to give the biggest hug to Melanie. She’s no slouch giving hugs back! We had the best time catching up and hanging out. It was like I’d never left. Kind of. We ended up at at a casual neighborhood pub that made the evening even more memorable. We had no idea we walked in on trivia night. We opted out which lent to even better comedy. (We were compared to the old men on the muppet show but in a good way – I swear).

Our “30th Reunion”

It was the most amazing trip. I cannot emphasize this enough. This was everything.

I still don’t have a bucket list. After this week, I honestly don’t need one because I completed it without ever needing to make one.

To those that made this all possible (the whole thing), I could spend the rest of my days thanking you and it truly wouldn’t be enough.

Seriously, Thank you.