Angie Malone, Breast Cancer Survivor My name is Angie Malone, and I'm a 2-year breast cancer survivor. I joined After Cancer in 2025, and looking back, I want to share what that time was really like - because I know I'm not the only one who felt this way. The Hardest Part Was "What Do I Do Next?" When treatment ended, everyone thinks you should just be relieved. And I was, in a way. But the hardest part for me was: what do I do next? I had a nurse navigator. She was gone. All 79 of my doctor's appointments - gone. So I was on my own, and I just didn't know what to do next. I had a lot of anxiety, a lot of pain. Brain fog was horrible. Neuropathy - that was a new one for me. There's just so much that comes into play, and you're stuck going, what do I do next? That was really tough. What Was Missing The biggest thing missing for me during that time was community. Needing help. Needing people to lean on, to talk to. During my journey, I didn't have my family close by. I only had my husband, and he did the best he could - he still is by my side every single day. But I didn't have my mom, my mother-in-law, my brothers, my daughters. Didn't have anybody. They were all 700 miles away, so that was hard. And friends - they weren't there like I wish they would have been. That was kind of scary for me. Why I Joined After Cancer The biggest reason I joined was that I needed a sisterhood. I needed friendship. I needed answers to my questions. I needed a sense of community - other women who had been through what I'd been through, and were still going through it, just like me. I needed to learn how to breathe, how to be mindful. I needed someone to tell me, "Hey, you need to exercise more. These foods are better for you than what you've been eating." The deep dives have been great - learning from experts, and learning from other women who have walked this walk. That's my biggest reason, and I've learned so much. I keep learning every single day. What's Changed Since I Joined I'm a lot happier now. A lot happier. The anxiety has gotten so much better. I've learned how to breathe and not worry so much. Life goes on, even though you're still on this journey - life goes on, and you learn how to live each day a little happier, a little healthier. That's been a big, big deal for me. Why I Think Every Survivor Needs This I truly believe more survivors need access to something like this. Like I said, it's that sense of community - we all need that. It's a scary word, cancer. I remember when I was a kid, my mother would say, "Oh, so-and-so has cancer," and it just felt so scary. But when you actually walk that walk yourself, you realize we all need to come together - as friends, as a sisterhood, as a community - and talk things through, and work together, and make our lives a little more peaceful and a little happier. That's pretty much why I think everyone who has walked this walk needs this in their life. Thank you so much for reading my story.

Sabrina Tucker, Breast Cancer Survivor A diagnosis during a routine visit I was diagnosed with breast cancer in my upper right quadrant in January 2024. This discovery happened during my annual wellness day, which included my breast and gynecology exams. I received a follow-up letter for a breast exam retest that changed my life forever. Because my tumor was diagnosed early, I had a lumpectomy to remove it. Chemotherapy was not required, but radiation was highly encouraged, along with daily cancer medication to slow down the production of estrogen in my body. Life after surgery Due to radiation that was administered after surgery, I developed lymphedema. The swelling happened immediately and required physical therapy to control the flow. I currently use a lymphedema machine to help keep the fluid moving away from my breast and hips. The machine helps keep the swelling under control while I learn how to manage keeping the fluid under control. Finding The After Cancer I was introduced to The After Cancer program through Carolina Breast Friends. I was looking for additional support programs to help me navigate my new normal. TAC was the right program I desired to close the gap between life after surgery and managing survivorship. The programs on the app provide so many tools and services to assist the cancer community. I've joined various sessions on the app that include: a cooking class, doctor's hours, a quarterly book club, breast circles, and gentle workouts. Journaling has been the most impactful for me because it allows me an opportunity to express my thoughts, emotions, fears, etc. through written words. A community that understands I love the community of ladies I've met both locally and afar. We all share one common theme: Cancer. The beautiful thing we've all learned is that we all share various ways to live with the diagnosis with grace and dignity. TAC provides the right tools and resources to help us remain hopeful and understand that we are not alone in this journey. Why survivorship matters Survivorship matters, and having great platforms available for you 24/7 is a real blessing. I'm grateful I joined TAC because this is where I found my community.

Alexis Mencos, Ovarian Cancer Survivor A cancer diagnosis at 21 I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Ovarian Cancer in 2015, days after my 21st birthday. My journey started by being misdiagnosed for 3 months. What I know now is that my tumor actually mimicked a pregnancy. So other than having a positive pregnancy test, late period, and nausea - I had no symptoms to alert me that anything was wrong. At the clinic my bloodwork and HCG levels confirmed what we all thought was a pregnancy but when it came time for an ultrasound there was nothing to show other than a shadow on one side. It was then that I was told I had an ectopic pregnancy and to make a long story short, was rushed into emergency surgery 2 days after my birthday. During surgery, it was then that they found a tumor sitting on top of my ovary. The entire time the tumor was mimicking a pregnancy and it was removed intact along with one of my ovaries. A few weeks later, I started coughing up blood and learned that the cancer had spread to my lungs. After being sent home with cough medicine due to an oncologist not being on site until Monday, I opted to go to the emergency room at Loyola Medicine. I was immediately admitted and started chemotherapy within 48 hours. There was no time to process, I had to un-enroll from my semester in college, and faced the most intense treatment offered at Loyola at the time. Chemotherapy was a full time job, 8 hours a day, every single day. It wasn’t until I went into remission that my oncologist shared that I was Stage 4. We had my age on my side and he didn’t want to put any fear or doubt in my mind that I would beat it. When treatment ends, but cancer doesn't After treatment ended, I felt completely lost. I was thrown back into ‘normal life’ without any help in transitioning or processing what had just happened. In a new body that felt different and no longer trusted itself. Every cold felt like an emergency and reason to go back to the ER. This was in 2015 when there wasn’t a large online community of cancer patients or survivors, let alone anyone near my age. As a result, I went back to ‘normal life’ as best as I could and shoved my cancer experience into a box in the back of my brain. For the following 5 years my new normal would be put on pause as I navigated routine bloodwork and CT Scans every 3 months, 6 months, and finally yearly along with the PTSD that came with it. I experienced side effects such as fatigue, permanent neuropathy, and a compromised immune system without any support. All of my doctors said my cancer treatment was over and that everything should go back to normal eventually - in reality that is far from the truth. Bodies change permanently after cancer along with mental healing and physical changes that need to be addressed. I didn’t even find out about pelvic floor therapy until almost 8 years after being in remission, something that would have been helpful immediately after. The unique reality of AYA cancer AYA cancer is uniquely challenging because it occurs during some of the most formative years of life, putting life on pause very early on. At a time when young adults are building their identities, pursuing education, starting careers, forming relationships, and planning for the future, cancer shifts the focus to one thing: survival. Fertility is one of the first areas that can be impacted. Many AYAs are forced to make life altering decisions in a very short period of time, often without the time, financial resources, or emotional capacity to preserve their fertility before beginning treatment. Careers can also be significantly affected. Treatment and recovery may make it impossible to work or complete school, and long term side effects can lead survivors to pursue lower stress jobs that better accommodate their new physical limitations. For many AYA survivors, cancer alters the trajectory of their careers before they even have the chance to begin. In my experience, cancer entered my life when I was 21 years old. While everyone around me was enjoying college, traveling, celebrating milestones, and thinking about their futures, I was fighting for my life. I felt incredibly isolated. When I reached out to my cancer center for support groups, I was always the youngest person in the room, especially back in 2015. Although everyone was kind, I was often met with sympathy rather than shared understanding. No one could truly relate to the grief of missing spring break with friends, watching my classmates graduate while I had to withdraw from college during treatment, or lacking the energy to participate in the everyday experiences with friends. Even after treatment ends, the impact of cancer doesn't. Many AYA survivors continue to experience long term side effects, including fatigue, gastrointestinal issues, pelvic floor dysfunction, bone density loss, memory challenges, and iron deficiency. These lasting effects create an entirely new medical journey. Now, at 32 years old and 11 years post treatment, I find myself advocating for screenings and specialist care despite being considered too young for routine tests like colonoscopies or mammograms. Survivorship doesn't mean the challenges disappear, it simply means they evolve. AYA survivors experience cancer differently, both during treatment and long afterward. The diagnosis creates a domino effect that influences nearly every aspect of life for years to come. AYAs deserve a community that understands their unique experiences, greater awareness of the long term challenges, and more resources designed specifically to support them through survivorship. Why survivorship care matters Survivorship care matters because cancer does not end the moment we are NED (negative of disease) or in remission. Survivorship IS part of cancer care. Survivorship is a forgotten space that needs research, investment, and resources. Patients like me who are in remission and 10 - 11 years out are dealing with all the long term side effects of cancer and of treatment and we end up in a space where no medical professional/cancer clinic wants to or can manage care because we are not actively fighting cancer. This is the disconnect in cancer care and this is why I am so passionate about the work that I do in cancer spaces because survivors need more advocacy, we need plans/resources in place for long term maintenance. In my experience, medical professionals point you in different directions from PCP’s to GI to Hematologists to Orthopedic Surgeons in circles because no one can take responsibility since survivorship is a grey area of no longer actively having cancer but not being sick enough for ongoing proactive care. There is a lack of support and it is an ongoing theme I hear from every survivor. Finding a space to feel seen and heard The After Cancer has been an extremely supportive space. There are people of all ages who can relate with the ways Cancer shapes day to day life moving forward. The After Cancer is a space where all walls and masks are put to the side and true vulnerability shines through. Everyone is loving, supportive, and lets each other feel seen and heard. I have built a community where I can share my struggles, my lows, my highs, and my wins without judgement, instead I am received with understanding and care. Every interaction makes me feel validated.

Anna Grace Thronberg, OTR/L, CLT, RSPA Summer often brings vacations, pool days, gardening, travel, and more time outdoors. But if you're living with lymphedema - or you're at risk after cancer treatment - you may also wonder how heat, humidity, and increased activity could affect your symptoms. During a recent Chat with an Expert, occupational therapist and Certified Lymphedema Therapist Anna Grace Thronberg shared practical advice for protecting your lymphatic health without giving up the activities you enjoy. Her message was reassuring: you don't have to avoid summer - you just have to prepare for it. Heat can increase swelling Warm weather naturally causes blood vessels to widen, which may contribute to increased swelling in people with lymphedema. That doesn't mean you have to stay indoors all season. Instead, plan ahead by seeking shade, using cooling towels or fans, taking breaks from the heat, and avoiding prolonged exposure whenever possible. Hydration helps - not hurts One of the biggest myths surrounding lymphedema is that drinking less water reduces swelling. In reality, dehydration can make symptoms worse by making lymphatic fluid more difficult to move throughout the body. Staying hydrated, combined with regular movement, helps support healthy lymphatic circulation. Keep your body moving The lymphatic system relies on muscle movement to help circulate fluid. Whether you're walking, stretching, swimming, or simply standing up during a long flight, gentle movement throughout the day can make a meaningful difference. If you're traveling, remember to move at least once every hour whenever possible. Don't overlook skin care Protecting your skin is one of the most important ways to reduce the risk of complications. Sunburns, insect bites, cuts, and scrapes can increase the risk of infection and may worsen lymphedema symptoms. Daily moisturizing, sunscreen, insect repellent, and checking your skin for changes can all become simple habits that support long-term health. Traveling? Plan ahead. If you're heading on vacation, don't forget to pack: Compression garments (if prescribed) Sunscreen Moisturizer Medications A reusable water bottle Choosing rolling luggage instead of carrying heavy bags and wearing loose, comfortable clothing can also make travel easier. Progress, not perfection Perhaps the most encouraging takeaway from the session was that managing lymphedema isn't about avoiding life. It's about understanding your body, making thoughtful choices, and having the confidence to continue doing the things you love. With a little planning, summer can still be filled with travel, movement, connection, and joy. Watch the full Chat with an Expert recording in The After Cancer Library for more practical tips and resources on living well with lymphedema.

Cancer has a way of changing our perspective. Many survivors describe seeing life differently after treatment, with a renewed appreciation for what truly matters. Yet even after everything they've been through, one pattern often remains the same: putting everyone else's needs before their own. Whether you're caring for family, supporting friends, returning to work, or simply trying to get life back on track, it can feel natural to keep giving to others while pushing your own needs aside. Jacqueline LeVasseur, BSN Certified Integrative Nutrition Coach and Cancer Survivor Why do so many survivors struggle to put themselves first? For years, Jackie dedicated her career to caring for others. As a nurse, long shifts, skipped meals, missed breaks, and putting patients first became part of everyday life. When she was diagnosed with breast cancer, she found herself reassessing not only her health, but also the way she was living. She realized that although she had spent years taking care of everyone else, she had rarely stopped to ask herself a simple question: What do I need? Answering that question wasn't easy, but it became the turning point that led her to change careers, become a certified health coach, and dedicate her work to supporting women through every stage of the cancer journey. The first step is awareness Meaningful change begins with awareness. Take a moment to reflect: Where does most of your energy go? What activities, people, or moments give you energy? Some responsibilities - like caring for a loved one or doing meaningful work - can both require energy and bring purpose. Others may leave us feeling depleted without us even realizing it. Simply noticing these patterns can help us better understand our needs and where we might need more balance. Challenge the beliefs you've always carried Many of us have learned to believe that our needs should come last. Perhaps you've caught yourself thinking: "I'll take care of myself later." "Everyone else needs me first." "Rest can wait." These beliefs often develop over many years and may have once helped us navigate difficult circumstances. But survivorship offers an opportunity to gently question whether those beliefs still serve us. Instead of thinking, "My needs can wait," try asking yourself: What if meeting my own needs helped me show up more fully for the people I love? Sometimes, a small shift in perspective can change the way we approach self-care. Healing happens through small choices One of the most encouraging reminders is that meaningful change rarely happens overnight. It happens through small, intentional actions repeated consistently. Rather than trying to transform your life all at once, choose one simple action you can take this week to honor yourself. It might be: Taking a walk. Reading for a few minutes. Eating meals at regular times. Spending time outdoors. Saying "no" to one extra commitment. Scheduling time just for yourself. Small actions may seem insignificant, but over time they become habits—and those habits can reshape how we care for ourselves. A question to take with you Before you move on with your day, ask yourself: What's one small step you can take this week to honor yourself? The goal isn't perfection. It's progress. Healing after cancer isn't only about recovering physically. It's also about learning to extend the same compassion, patience, and care to yourself that you've so often given to everyone else. Perhaps it's time to put your own name back at the top of your list.

October 6, 2022 was my 61st half birthday. It was the day I was diagnosed with non-Hodgkin Diffuse Large B-Cell Lymphoma, discovered during a dental visit late that August. It presented in lymph nodes in my head and neck. And ultimately my neck swelled so grossly that I thought I might not be able to breathe. I was admitted to Atrium hospital and began my R-CHOP treatments that night. Upon discharge I continued those treatments at Charlotte's Levine Cancer Institute Infusion Center. Hopefawn Robertson, Hodgkin Lymphoma survivor During treatment, there were changes in many of my relationships. The complications of my life are many and not everyone wants to sign up for this ride. Technically, I'm not really tall enough to be on it myself. Some people drifted away. I was a bit lonely. After treatment I was feeling more isolated. I can't walk to the bus stops, I can't drive our car because of it's mechanical issues. My hips have degenerated and there's often pain that puts an end to whatever I might be engaged in. Transportation can be very difficult, getting out can be a challenge. My hands don't work as well as they used to. My brain is not as quick or sharp as it was before cancer and treatment. I can't get to a gym. I still have pain and brain fog, and my energy isn't quite what it used to be. I was struggling to find connections and help. There is the constant and real fear of cancer recurrence, especially since I am vulnerable to a host of cancers. I was finding it hard to find where I belonged. I knew that I felt comfortable talking with other cancer patients because they understood things about me that some of my closest kin could not, like the effects of chemo-brain, or the experience of survivor's guilt, or scanxiety. Through the last couple of months of treatments I began engaging in some of the supportive oncology at Levine Cancer Institute, (which are wonderful also) and while Levine's had filled some deep needs for me, I was about to discover another lifeline. I believe it was no coincidence that my long time QiGong instructor emailed me about the beginnings of The After Cancer. Marie Theriault, QiGong, TaiChi and Yoga Instructor, reached out to me and invited me to try this new platform for cancer patients. All of the sessions would be online! I could attend those! I agreed readily and signed up. I signed up for QiGong with Marie, and Yoga, and Gentle Stretch & Balance, I signed up for nutrition classes, and special sessions on specific and varied topics. I was signing up like a Girl Scout trying to earn a badge. As I attended these sessions, I felt more relaxed as time went by. I made connections; we would "see" each other virtually, but regularly through the week every week. We move to TaiChi, QiGong, and other exercise classes together, learn the ways to help ourselves through nutrition together, we learn techniques to manage pain, create art together and grieve together when we experience losses. The After Cancer became a place where I to make new friends, and learn to practice doing good things for myself. I am learning that I am worthy of self care time. I deserve time to heal. Time to just be; every day forever. One day, just a few months after my joining, Cheryl Lecroy, Peer Moderator, asked me if there was anything I would like to have in The After Cancer that I didn't see already? I said I would love to see art sessions, maybe music, but creative outlets would be wonderful, please and thank you. Within a few months, the first art class/sessions would begin. I was thrilled! And then healing journaling classes began, and a second artist joined Cheryl. The After Cancer's responsiveness to my suggestions was heartening and exciting. A year after my treatments ended, it was April 2024, when my husband and I moved back to New York for a year and a half. I was disheartened, and disappointed to learn that many large hospital cancer groups there did not have the extensive Supportive Oncology groups that exist in Charlotte. And I was immensely grateful that I could take The After Cancer with me. My path was arduous, but I persevered by reaching for my tools and resources, ever grateful for The After Cancer as the biggest tool in my box. I fought depression and anxiety, sadness and boredom, fear and loneliness with active participation in The After Cancer. During one co-create group this past April, with a couple of other members and Cheryl Lecroy, we talked about an event that was combining The After Cancer and Carolina Breast Friends. It was taking place in Charlotte within days. Cheryl and some of the other Care Team would be there, and a few of our members were coming long distance. I had already moved back to Charlotte, and we hurriedly plotted to meet up there. The After Cancer members got to share our experiences with potential new members and enjoy some time just socializing together. The experience of being in the actual presence of my friends whom I'd previously only known virtually, was indescribably invigorating! It is a favorite memory now, a moment when bonding was intensified by seeing and hugging each other in person, and this new core memory makes me smile widely with joy when I conjure it in my mind. It is now three years past the end of my treatments. I still face a bilateral mastectomy at the end of this summer and still face multiple regular screenings for life, but I know I have the tools and friends to get me through the fear and whatever may come. I have this online support in my pocket all the time, with my community who I engage with regularly, in chat groups, in exercise, in art, in nutrition, in deep thought, deeper emotion, and with truly deep gratitude.

To put it plainly: finishing cancer treatment can feel like moving from your hometown to a desert island with no preparation. In your hometown, you know where to go when you need help. You recognize the sounds around you. You have a routine. You have people nearby. You have a sense of orientation. Active cancer treatment, despite everything, can feel similar. There is structure. You know when you have treatment, when you have scans, when you have bloodwork. You go to the cancer center regularly. There is usually a nurse, social worker, or doctor you can ask when something feels wrong. There is a plan. Then the treatment phase ends. The appointments slow down. The medical team feels farther away. The routine disappears. And suddenly, many survivors feel like they have been dropped into the wild without a map. What if the cancer comes back? How would I know? What can I do to reduce my risk? Is this pain normal? Is this fatigue expected? Should I call someone? Every symptom can become a trigger. Every decision can feel uncertain. The body that carried you through treatment now feels unfamiliar. If you were dropped on a desert island without preparation, you would live in constant fight-or-flight mode. You would wonder where to find clean water, what was safe to eat, what sounds meant danger, and what tools you needed to survive. Now imagine trying to win Survivor as a cancer survivor. You would need the right team. You would need a plan. You would need knowledge. You would need tools. You would need support for each phase of the journey. That is what survivorship care is. Survivorship care is the support cancer survivors need after treatment ends, across physical, emotional, and lifestyle needs. It includes side effect management, risk-reducing lifestyle approaches, emotional well-being, and guidance for rebuilding life after cancer. At The After Cancer, we built a platform to meet survivors where they are in that journey. We help people navigate life after treatment with structure, guidance, community, expert support, and personalized tools. Because cancer survivorship should not feel like surviving in the wild.

Dr. Diane Benfield, Clinical Social Worker and Psychotherapist Rediscovering Meaning A cancer diagnosis can change the way we see ourselves, our relationships, our priorities, and the future we once imagined. Even after treatment ends, many survivors find themselves asking difficult questions: What now? Who am I after this experience? How do I move forward? For some, life after cancer can bring a deeper appreciation for what matters most. For others, it can feel disorienting, uncertain, or emotionally heavy. Finding purpose again is rarely something that happens all at once - it’s often a gradual process of reconnecting with yourself and discovering what gives your life meaning now. Purpose Doesn’t Have to Look the Same One of the most important reminders is that purpose after cancer does not need to look dramatic or life-changing. It doesn’t have to mean starting over completely, finding a new career, or becoming endlessly positive. Sometimes purpose is found in much smaller moments: Rebuilding relationships Creating healthier boundaries Exploring creativity Supporting others Spending time in nature Prioritizing rest and wellbeing Rediscovering hobbies or passions Simply learning how to be present again Purpose can shift after a major life experience, and that shift is not a sign of failure - it’s part of growth. Giving Yourself Permission to Change Many survivors feel pressure to “bounce back” to who they were before cancer. But healing often involves recognizing that the experience has changed you in some way, emotionally, physically, or mentally. We encourage survivors to approach this process with curiosity and self-compassion rather than judgment. Instead of asking, “Why am I not back to normal yet?” it can be more helpful to ask: What matters most to me now? What brings me peace or fulfillment? What do I want this next chapter of life to feel like? These questions can create space for a more intentional and meaningful path forward. Finding Meaning Through Connection Purpose is also deeply connected to relationships and community. Many survivors describe feeling isolated after treatment ends, especially when others expect life to immediately return to normal. Having spaces where experiences can be shared openly - without needing to explain or minimize emotions - can help survivors feel understood and less alone. Whether through conversations, support groups, creative expression, or simply connecting with others who “get it,” community can play a powerful role in rebuilding meaning after cancer. Small Steps Still Matter Finding purpose is not about having everything figured out. It often starts with small moments of awareness and small decisions made consistently over time. That may look like: Trying something new Reconnecting with an old interest Setting healthier routines Saying yes to support Allowing yourself to rest Creating space for reflection Even small shifts can help create a stronger sense of direction and emotional grounding. Continue the Conversation If this topic resonates with you, you’re not alone. Inside The After Cancer app, you can watch the full recording of Dr. Diane Benfield’s conversation on finding purpose after cancer and explore even more expert-led sessions designed to support your emotional wellbeing, relationships, and life after treatment. Join our community to access the recording, connect with others who understand the survivorship journey, and discover tools and conversations that help you move forward with greater clarity, support, and confidence. Disclaimer: The information shared in this article is intended for educational purposes only and should not replace medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment from your healthcare team. Always consult your doctor or qualified healthcare provider regarding questions about your health or medical care.

Why cancer support is important Studies  have found that social support is crucial to improving cancer patients’ overall well-being and quality of life. While patients undergoing treatment tend to receive support from cancer care teams, support groups, and online communities, for those who have ‘beaten’ cancer, the experience can look vastly different.  Cancer survivors often receive less support since they are no longer in constant contact with their care team, and may be expected to return to their ‘normal’ lives once in remission. For individuals like Peter Dornan , a physiotherapist, writer, and prostate cancer survivor, insufficient support made managing treatment side effects particularly challenging. Following the surgical removal of his prostate, Dornan developed his own program to resolve issues with incontinence, driven by the dearth of resources available to men who have survived prostate cancer.  For others, remission can come with significant mental health challenges and little guidance on how to best overcome them. According to one lung cancer survivor’s story , Deb: “The most challenging aspect of being a cancer survivor is living with the fear of it coming back, as it is a constant in my mind. The slightest shortness of breath or a cough can put me on tenterhooks.” This lack of support for cancer survivorship is exacerbated by the fact that survivors’ challenges are often invisible; lingering pain, fatigue, and social and mental health challenges are easier to overlook, as compared to the more conspicuous challenges that accompany active cancer treatment. The pressure to ‘bounce back,’ combined with a lack of guidance on nutrition, exercise, and social and mental health management, can also leave survivors exhausted, with nowhere to turn to for advice. Cancer stories, which include patients’ and survivors’ accounts of diagnosis, treatment, and survivorship, can help address this gap. Studies  have found that cancer stories, regardless of their format, are beneficial in supporting people with cancer.  How cancer stories help Stories can inform and educate those recovering from the disease. Resources like Our Cancer Stories  offer detailed accounts of patients’ and survivors’ experiences, and can provide both practical guidance and emotional comfort. Their comprehensive database of over 500 stories ensures that patients and survivors can learn from the experiences of those who have been through situations that most closely resemble their own. Since cancer treatment and recovery can be quite specific based on an individual’s background, circumstances, and medical history, hearing from those who have made similar treatment decisions, experienced similar side effects, and walked the same path can be reassuring. Such stories are meant to complement clinical care for those receiving treatment and serve as a starting point for those seeking advice once in remission. For instance, these stories may help readers understand the questions that are useful to ask doctors or set realistic expectations for treatment timelines. Patients’ advice, through responses to questions asking what they wish they’d known before treatment, or what they wish people knew about cancer survivorship, can guide and reassure those facing these challenges for the first time. How cancer survivors can get involved Cancer survivors and patients receiving treatment can begin by exploring stories that mirror their own circumstances. Our Cancer Stories features stories organised by cancer type. Each of these pages, such as those for colon cancer stories  or prostate cancer stories , provides survivors and current patients with the option to filter stories by gender, cancer stage, and cancer subtype. Cancer survivors may also choose to contribute their own stories  to Our Cancer Stories’ website.  Cancer survivorship is a journey best travelled together. By contributing diagnostic, treatment, and survivorship experiences to Our Cancer Stories, cancer patients and survivors can provide much-needed support to others on the same path, ensuring that nobody has to navigate cancer alone. This article is independent and not sponsored. References American Cancer Society. (2024, June 26). Social isolation and loneliness . Retrieved January 6, 2026, from https://www.cancer.org/cancer/managing-cancer/side-effects/emotional-mood-changes/social-isolation-loneliness.html   Andersen, B. L., PhD, & Dorfman, C., PhD. (2021, July 26). The Importance of Social Support for People with Cancer . Society of Behavioral Medicine (SBM). Retrieved January 6, 2026, from https://www.sbm.org/healthy-living/the-importance-of-social-support-for-people-with-cancer   Hofman, A., Zajdel, N., Klekowski, J., & Chabowski, M. (2021). Improving social support to increase QOL in lung cancer patients. Cancer Management and Research , Volume 13 , 2319–2327. https://doi.org/10.2147/cmar.s278087   Ruiz-Rodríguez, I., Hombrados-Mendieta, I., Melguizo-Garín, A., & Martos-Méndez, M. J. (2022). The importance of social support, optimism and resilience on the quality of life of cancer patients. Frontiers in Psychology , 13 , 833176. https://doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2022.833176

Hi, my name is Beatriz, and I am in remission from Hodgkin's Lymphoma for a year now. I have been writing about my journey since my diagnosis. Today, I want to share pieces of those chapters with you. My hope is to help those who might feel alone in their journeys. As we embrace the Thanksgiving holiday spirit, I feel immense gratitude. I am thankful for everyone by my side: family, friends, and my medical team. I am also grateful to be part of the amazing team at The After Cancer. Together, we have the opportunity to help many others who are in similar situations. I cherish the chance to celebrate this journey and share my story. Entry date: November 28th, 2025 "Do I even deserve the luck I have? Yesterday marked one year of my cancer remission. One year of my hair growing back. One year of doing things I probably wouldn’t have done if cancer hadn’t happened at all." The Complexity of Celebration But why am I scared to celebrate? And at the same time, why do I feel guilty? The thought of being lucky enough to have a diagnosis with one of the highest survival rates lingers in my mind. Yet, the fear of it returning or bringing a different diagnosis haunts me even more. It’s a mix of “I deserve to be proud and celebrate” and “Am I even entitled to celebrate when what I went through feels so small compared to what others have faced?” Happiness, relief, fear, and guilt - navigating the aftermath of cancer can be trickier than the treatment itself. This past year has been a full-on rollercoaster. Facing the Unknown Everything I feel that resembles the cancer symptoms I had before treatment scares me. I worry I won’t be able to distinguish between what’s normal and what’s concerning. I fear celebrating today, only to hear from my oncologist next week that it’s back. I worry that I’m not enjoying life as I should, and that it might be too late. I’m afraid that by focusing too much on my fears, I’ll let the good moments slip away. The truth is, I’m afraid because I can’t control it. Living each day to the fullest has been one of my goals during 2025. However, life still happens, and not everything is perfect. Celebrating small victories has become a coping strategy for me. It helps me manage my anxiety about the future and the things I cannot control. Yet, even that can be challenging at times. The Importance of Self-Kindness Learning to be kind to myself is a crucial part of life after cancer. I know this journey will help everything else fall into place. I still have a long way to go, but I refuse to make giving up an option. Reality is different for everyone, and all realities matter. Regardless of the diagnosis, finishing a round of treatment is a significant milestone. Completing an entire protocol is another achievement worth celebrating. Reaching one, six, or twelve months of remission is yet another important milestone in our journey. Embracing the Journey Together Celebrating can be tough sometimes. The journey after cancer is long and, let’s face it, can be a b. But I hope you can walk this road with me. As we navigate this path together, I want to remind you that your feelings are valid. It's okay to feel a mix of emotions. You are not alone in this journey, and together, we can find ways to celebrate our victories, no matter how small they may seem. Let’s continue to support one another and embrace the beauty of life after cancer.

Our team and their families at our annual gathering Every year, around this time, I try to pause, reflect, and plan. I was never a “New Year’s resolutions” person, but as a CEO, I care deeply about alignment. Beyond creating a North Star to guide my team, the harder task was answering this question: Did the work we did actually matter to the people we say we’re here for? In 2025, my answer to that question is yes. Not because everything was easy. It wasn’t. Not because everything worked perfectly. It didn’t. But because we stayed close to the people who trusted us with one of the most vulnerable chapters of their lives. In 2025, The After Cancer  became more real, more tangible, more alive. In September, we launched our new app. It wasn’t just a product release — it was a step toward something I’ve believed for a long time: survivorship support has to be continuous, not episodic. It has to live with people - not sit in a binder they never open, or be reduced to a one-off visit. Over the year, at The After Cancer, we: Offered 28 different modalities of support , recognizing that healing is never one-dimensional Delivered 479 hours of group sessions Worked with 19 experts who brought depth, rigor, and humanity to our programming Published 171 new articles, because information — when it’s accessible and compassionate — is a form of care. Behind each number is a survivor . Someone trying to sleep again. Someone learning to trust their body. Someone realizing they weren’t “failing at survivorship” — they just weren’t being supported. As we move toward 2026, one thing needs to become clear to everyone involved in cancer care: treating cancer is just the beginning. Survivorship is a phase of care that deserves intention, structure, and respect. For decades, survivorship was treated as an afterthought. Treatment ended, and people were expected to be grateful, resilient, and “back to normal.” Many felt none of those things and often felt ashamed or guilty for it. What we’ve learned is this: survivorship care doesn’t fail because clinicians don’t care. It fails because the system isn’t designed to support people long term. We built our product intentionally to support survivorship on both sides of the system: survivors and the clinical teams who care for them. Health and well-being are multidimensional, and long-term survivorship care can’t depend solely on clinical time. That reality shaped how we designed The After Cancer platform — as an ongoing support tool that lives alongside clinical care, not instead of it. For care teams, our platform makes it possible to support large survivor populations in a sustainable way. The app supports survivors between visits by providing education, tools, and ongoing guidance, while reducing the day-to-day burden on clinicians and care teams . For survivors, that same infrastructure creates space for connection and belonging. Group sessions, shared stories, and expert-led conversations help them feel less alone at a time that is often quietly overwhelming. Most importantly, we help survivors feel better and improve their quality of life. As I reflect on the past year and what’s to come, I don’t believe survivorship has been “solved” but it is no longer invisible. What started as a response to a deeply personal problem has grown into something bigger than me, and even bigger than our team. The work is far from finished, but the foundation is here. Survivorship now has a platform, a voice, and a future. I’m deeply proud of what we’ve built together to shape what comes after cancer.

On a recent trip to Vegas for a conference, we took a day off to do this beautiful hike. When I think about this year, it’s easy to first remember the bad news that marked it. Cancer diagnosis within my friends group, family health issues, a dementia diagnosis, my grandparents relocation to a nursing home, and the list could go on and on. So many times, the overwhelming responsibility of my job and of caring for my loved ones takes over and feels like a weight. When we deal with difficult news, we often think - Why me? Why now? I’ve learned that whenever I feel that things are going smoothly in my life and that I can pause to breathe - that’s breeding ground for something big happening soon. And so it is, I hear the bad news, go into crisis management mode (which I’m particularly good at), and drive through the storm. This month, I really dove into the Why me? question. Not to complain or victimize myself, but to digest and seek closure. And the only answer I found was to feel thankful for all these hardships. I’m thankful that it’s me and not someone else. I’m thankful for the ability to support my loved ones. I’m thankful for my large circle of friends and family. I’m thankful for this responsibility. I’m thankful for choosing to dedicate my life to cancer care. I’m thankful for all that comes with being human. I love the quote “pressure is a privilege”. It’s a personal motto of mine. It’s what drives my passion and energy in building The After Cancer. Diving into this introspection also made me realize that caring for my loved ones is a privilege. It’s a privilege because they’re alive, because I care, because I can support them. We all go through stuff… so this Thanksgiving, instead of why me, I invite you to say thank you.