Diagnosis/Treatment Update: Back to Boobs

Not Done Loving

On the eve of my first cancer surgery, I skip the Super Bowl and follow a quiet pull to hear a group of Buddhist monks on their Walk for Peace. The year before, after divorce, heartbreak, and a visit to the Garden of 1,000 Buddhas in Montana, one unexpected realization changes the way I think about purpose, love, and what it means to keep living.

Diagnosis / Treatment Update: Breast Surgery 2.0 + THE MRI

This week: MRI news, a successful implant surgery, and a clear path to my next surgery on July 28. But behind the scenes: a positive Signatera result, unexpected stomach pain, and some of the hardest mental health days of this journey that have reminded me healing isn't linear—and that acceptance is something we have to practice over and over again.

Classic

The night before surgery, I learned a friend had died from an overdose. The next day, I woke up in recovery and was offered fentanyl and oxycodone for my pain. This is a story about a man who dedicated his life to helping others recover, the day I drove two hours to help him after a relapse, and why I believe addiction deserves the same compassion we so readily extend to illnesses like cancer.

Diagnosis/Treatment Update: Back to Boobs

In this update: a surprise return of rectal cancer symptoms, an emergency visit with my colorectal surgeon, and the MRI everyone seems to be waiting on. I share my first Herceptin-only infusion, the joys of hot flashes and possible chemo-induced menopause, pre-op appointments for my implant swap surgery, hair loss, acupuncture, and a question I can't stop asking: Why is the universe testing me like this? We also talk about receiving uncertainty, receiving love, and why I'm looking forward to the rearview mirror even more than the MRI.

Left of Surviving

A friend once suggested there’s a place even further left on the spectrum than surviving. I thought I understood what he meant. Then came divorce. Cancer. Chemotherapy. Grief. In this episode, I share what happened when my body finally stepped out of survival mode—and all the things I had been too busy surviving to feel came rushing in. Sometimes making it through the day is too much. Sometimes the goal is just making it to the next breath.