Survivorship

The stories and experiences are written by people after cancer treatments. These stories are written for those learning how to get back to work, college or just trying to be themselves again. Just getting past treatments isn’t enough, it is surviving and thriving that is key to being you again.

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No Guarantee of the Future

by Kathryn Pilgrim April 23, 2025

Cancer means fighting for your life with no guarantee of the future
Fostering means loving the children in your care with no guarantee of the future.

Finding Me Again

by Victoria Haveman April 21, 2025

They said they found something in my mammogram
I said I know, it’s my first one, it’s just dense breasts
no, come back in right away for more tests

Another Christmas Season

by Jennifer Anand April 14, 2025

Another Christmas season is speedily passing by. And with it, the weight of reminder of twelve years ago and relapse.

Invisible Seizures and Other Normal Twenty-Something Experiences

by Hedda Phan April 9, 2025

The feeling creeps in slowly, then all at once. I sit at a large conference table, surrounded by my classmates.

Misconceptions, Hard Parts, and What Others Ought To Know

by Jon Fox

One of the largest misconceptions about facing cancer as an AYA is the idea that life goes back to “normal” after treatment is over.

a common misconception

by Jessica Acosta

there’s a sense of shame casted over us, as if we aren’t back to living up to society’s expectations…

Lost and Found Middle Child

by Molly Gaynor April 7, 2025

We all wear many hats. We all identify in many ways. Me? I’m a wife, daughter, sister, cat mom, dog mom, friend, Disney aficionado-just to name a few.

Being a young adult with cancer (AYA) places you on a different planet compared to everyone else. You are suddenly ejected from your life without warning. Your peers often perceive you as brave as you navigate your cancer journey and resilient because of your youth—”You’ve got this.” As if we have a choice.

Coming to Terms with the Side Effects of Treatment

by K. Hudson Guttman

As a boy, I used to race the sun: I would start in the forest as the sun set, at the bottom of a hill, and try to climb as the darkness nipped at my feet. My body would throb with the blood rushing to my limbs before it collapsed with exhaustion. Now, sitting at the river’s edge, I am at that point again; I cannot go any further without rest.