“I Won’t Let This Define Me.”

I remember very clearly driving home from my second-to-last chemo. My brother was driving us to his house, which he was trying to sell. He had his own way of being supportive during my treatment, which included occasionally being my support person during chemo.

Phantoms of Daily Life

I remember when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer: I remember falling to the floor and violently sobbing. After adjusting to the diagnosis, I had assumed that I would just have a double mastectomy and move on with my life.

I’m Just Happy to Be Here

Two years after sitting in the hospital with a pulmonary embolism, three years removed from almost dying postpartum, my daughters had me tackled on the playground in a tickle fight and I looked to sky, laughing, just grateful to be alive in this moment.

Running “Away” from Cancer

For years before I had cancer, I was a runner. I started in 2014, just doing 5ks and eventually training for my first 10k. In 2016, I signed up for my first marathon and ran for a charity team. The same year, I got to see firsthand the charity work, and I knew I wanted to keep running marathons and fundraising for my cause.

Dear Cancer, You Ruined So Much for Me

Dear Cancer,

I am so mad some days about why I don’t have an ordinary life. When I was diagnosed, I was only 33 and my babies were not even 9 months old.

You robbed me of so many fragile memories I have of my babies. You robbed me of their first birthday—I had to be at chemo instead of celebrating. Weekends in the hospital, months where I didn’t get to pick them up because of surgical restrictions.