The After Cancer Blog

Breast cancer is a life-changing diagnosis, and for many women, the emotional impact of the disease can be just as overwhelming as the physical effects. Feelings of depression are one of the most common psychological struggles for breast cancer patients, affecting them at various stages of treatment and recovery. Understanding the emotional journey, from diagnosis to post-treatment, is crucial for supporting women through this challenging time. Disclaimer: The content on this article does not mean in any scenario that it will happen to every patient diagnosed with specific cancer types. Use is to understand when you might start feeling different, and ask for help! Why these feelings might arise A breast cancer diagnosis brings a flood of emotions, and feelings of sadness, fear, and anxiety are all normal responses. However, when these feelings persist and interfere with daily functioning, they can develop into clinical depression. Several factors contribute to depression in breast cancer patients, including: The Shock of Diagnosis : Learning that you have breast cancer can cause overwhelming feelings of fear, uncertainty, and disbelief. The unknowns about treatment, the future, and the prognosis can weigh heavily on a patient’s mind. Body Image Changes : Many women experience significant changes in their body, especially after surgery such as a mastectomy or lumpectomy . These physical changes can trigger deep feelings of loss, anger, and diminished self-worth. A woman’s sense of identity and femininity may feel disrupted, contributing to body image issues and emotional distress. Treatment Side Effects : Chemotherapy, radiation, and hormone therapy can cause various side effects, including fatigue, nausea, hair loss, and changes in skin or breast tissue. These side effects can lead to a diminished sense of well-being and increased emotional vulnerability. Fear of Recurrence : The fear that cancer may return can create ongoing anxiety, leaving patients feeling uncertain and fearful about their future. This worry can be compounded by physical symptoms from treatment, making it difficult to find emotional peace. Hormonal Changes : Treatments like hormone therapy (e.g., tamoxifen or aromatase inhibitors) can lead to hormonal imbalances that exacerbate feelings of depression. The side effects of these treatments, such as hot flashes and mood swings, further contribute to emotional instability. Recognizing the Signs of Depression in Breast Cancer Survivors Depression is not just about feeling sad; it affects how you think, feel, and behave. Recognizing the signs of depression early can help in seeking appropriate care and support. Symptoms include: Persistent feelings of sadness, hopelessness, or emptiness Loss of interest in activities that used to bring joy Difficulty concentrating or making decisions Changes in appetite, sleep patterns, or energy levels Feeling disconnected from others or experiencing isolation Thoughts of self-harm or suicide (seek help immediately) If you or a loved one is experiencing any of these symptoms, it’s important to seek professional help from a therapist, counselor, or healthcare provider. Coping with Depression During Breast Cancer Treatment While it’s natural to experience emotional ups and downs during cancer treatment, there are steps that can be taken to manage depression and improve emotional well-being. The best way to manage emotional health during treatment is through a combination of physical care, emotional support, and professional guidance. Support groups, therapy, and mindfulness practices can all make a significant difference. Therapy and Counseling : Speaking with a mental health professional, such as a psychologist or therapist, can provide emotional support and coping strategies. Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) is particularly effective in helping cancer patients reframe negative thought patterns and improve mood. Support Groups : Connecting with others who understand your struggles can be incredibly comforting. Support groups for breast cancer survivors offer a safe space to share experiences, gain advice, and find emotional support. These groups can reduce feelings of isolation and offer practical tips for coping with depression. Mindfulness and Relaxation : Techniques such as mindfulness meditation , deep breathing exercises , and yoga can help reduce anxiety and stress, fostering a stronger mind-body connection. These practices can be powerful tools in managing the emotional challenges of breast cancer treatment. Physical Activity : Regular exercise, even light activities like walking or stretching, can improve mood and energy levels. Exercise boosts the release of endorphins , which can help lift your spirits and reduce feelings of depression. Medication : In some cases, antidepressant medication may be necessary to help manage depression. It’s important to consult with a healthcare provider to discuss the risks and benefits, especially when taking other medications for cancer treatment. The Importance of Support for Breast Cancer Survivors Having a support system is essential for managing depression during breast cancer treatment. Social support plays a crucial role in the mental and emotional well-being of breast cancer survivors. Having loved ones to talk to, or joining a support group, can help mitigate feelings of loneliness and provide a sense of community. Whether it’s a partner, family member, friend, or healthcare professional, emotional support can make a significant difference in how a patient copes with their illness. Encourage open communication about feelings and concerns, as this can help alleviate the burden of depression. Conclusion Breast cancer is a journey that affects every aspect of a woman’s life, physically, emotionally, and mentally. Feelings of depression are a common and challenging side effect that many women face during and after treatment. By acknowledging the emotional toll that cancer treatment can take, and seeking appropriate support and care, women can begin to rebuild their sense of self and regain control of their emotional well-being. Remember, it’s okay to ask for help. You don’t have to face this challenge alone.

Beatriz Costeira at her first dance class dio post cancer diagnosis The cancer diagnosis is life changing, and for a 24-year-old trying to make her way into the job market and create a name for herself, it’s disruptive to say the least. Hi, my name is Beatriz, and I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma in May 2024. When I was first diagnosed, my priorities shifted completely. Instead of overthinking about how stagnated and lost I felt in life, my focus was on winning the battle ahead. Little did I know that that battle was only the first of a very long war. We are indeed wariors, this is a stone that life only places in the path of those strong enough to overcome it, never forget that. I received the news of being in remission in November, three days before my birthday. Everyone would say that it was the best birthday gift I could get, and that’s no lie. But for some reason, my reaction to the news wasn’t as cheerful as I expected, not as cheerful as my mother’s or everyone else’s. I wanted to, but in the back of my head a lingering thought of “what now?” haunted my little Happiness from pressing the cheer button in the mental control console, just like in Inside Out (great movies by the way). If you’re reading this and find yourself lost in “the after cancer”, know that you are not alone and there is indeed a light at the end of the tunnel! I was very lost and misplaced on the path I was on before cancer, and to certain extent I felt like all of this was a hint from my body that I was not following the right direction, and I listened. The next six months of treatment made me question every decision I made up until that point – studies, careers, relationships, hobbies, and even the way I pushed myself beyond my limits. I had an even harder battle to fight after chemo: finding myself. I’ve struggled deeply with depression and anxiety, even before cancer, and it is not easy to overcome. It takes a lot of strength, and we need to pull ourselves up while reaching for an helping hand. The diagnosis and the chemo made it worse, but what went through my head then could fill an entire trilogy, so let’s focus on the after. I had a mission: to build a future where I felt fulfilled, happy and proud of myself. These were my tactics: 1. Communication. Therapy and opening up with the ones close to me were my first line of attack, and I plan to keep seeing my therapist for a long time. 2. Hobbies . I started hobbies I had been wanting to try forever, ceramics mostly. I found out that I’m actually good at it – take a look! 3. Happiness . I went back to what makes me happy: dance. I don’t think I’ve ever been as heartbroken as I was when I had to stop dancing in 2018. But this was the time, I had to go back. 4. Exercise . Going back to the studio was challenging, because everything I had worked for was gone - muscle strength and flexibility - and I had to start all over again. But I was determined to not just get back to where I was, but to build a new, even stronger version of myself. 5. Nutrition . With the weight fluctuations during and after chemo, I struggled with both my self-esteem and my overall health. What we feed our bodies is crucial for easing chemo effects during and after treatment. For me, I’m on a mission to feel good in my body again. My first ceramic piece Chemotherapy was a setback, but also an experience that made me mentally tougher, I just had to tap into that strength. I could develop way more on each of these strategies, but we would be here for hoooours. My professional life also had to be rethought, but my only rule to myself is to take it slow. And so, it happens that I started working with The After Cancer , where I get to learn more about how to manage my side effects after chemotherapy while contributing my first-hand experience to help improve the approach to different topics. All in all, what I want to emphasize is that the road back from chemotherapy is undeniably challenging, full of ups and downs. There is no way we can avoid that. But we can work around it, with resilience, patience, focus and a handful of troops by our side. Notably, research shows that exercise and healthy nutrition can improve survivors’ quality of life and even reduce risk of cancer recurrence. So I strongly advocate that nourishing and listening to your body will significantly improve post-chemotherapy symptoms. And above all, take care of your mental health. Learn that new skill you’ve always wanted, do what makes you happy, connect with those who bring the best in you, and try that dance class you’ve been hesitant to take (you are never too late for that)! Spread kindness, and kindness will find its way back to you. The present may be shaky, but the future is bright and full of good things to come.

Kelly Brown, a chondrosarcoma survivor and member of The After Cancer My favorite season is the season of awakening. One that brings bundles of yellow flowers, buds waiting to burst forth and color the branches of southern trees in vibrant hues while pale landscapes turn green seemingly overnight. A season of longing for brighter days and the early morning chirping of birds. But beyond the emerging beauty, this season brings hope for a family of strangers bound together through the rare cancer that is Sarcoma . The Sarcoma Stomp is held every April in Charlotte NC to continue the vision of Paula Takacs. As a young mother, Paula was diagnosed with Liposarcoma soon after birthing her son in 2004. At the time of diagnosis there were no dedicated Sarcoma Centers in Charlotte and funding for Sarcoma research was grossly lacking. She had a vision to make a difference for the Sarcoma community by creating The Paula Takacs Foundation . The initial goal, to raise crucial funds for Sarcoma research.  Sarcomas are rare bone and soft tissue cancers. They account for 1% of all adult cancer diagnoses and 15% of all pediatric cancer diagnoses. Soft tissue sarcomas are more common than bone and there are over 100 Sarcoma subtypes.  When I personally received a cancer diagnosis of Chondrosarcoma , I had never even heard of sarcomas. My world suddenly felt smaller, lonelier. But, after a single surgery I was cancer free and through social media, I discovered The Paula Takacs Foundation and I knew the impact they were making was vital in the fight against sarcoma. I attended my first Sarcoma Stomp in April 2022, a little more than a year after my Chondrosarcoma diagnosis and surgery. I opted to walk the 3k accompanied by a few of my favorite people. For the first time since my surgery, I felt surrounded by people that understood - no uneasy stares at the long scar on my leg, no awkward looks as I walked really slow with a limp. There was a deep sense of unity and a common purpose, to honor loved ones, celebrate progress and uplift the sarcoma community. We were a family that no one would choose, but a family nonetheless.  As I was walked the 3k, I remember feeling overwhelmingly thankful to be able to participate. The 3k walk offered a great alternative to the 5k run, making participation possible for those who couldn’t run. When I received an endoprosthesis in my leg I was told I couldn’t run again. It wasn’t a big deal at the time because running was never really my preferred method of exercise. For those who love running, the 5k is still an option and I hear it can get pretty competitive! Both the walk and run go through a scenic South Charlotte neighborhood, followed by a celebration featuring race awards, team spirit recognition, and fundraising acknowledgments. The after-party shines as an honor to each participant and volunteer. More than just a race, the Sarcoma Stomp has become an annual gathering, an opportunity to raise funds, increase awareness, and rise up in unwavering support of all those affected by sarcoma.  Sarcoma Statistics  https://paulatakacsfoundation.org/what-is-sarcoma/ Paula’s Story https://paulatakacsfoundation.org/paulas-story/

When I was in 6th grade, I started doing gymnastics and by high school I was competing for my high school team. I competed on everything - floor, uneven bars, vault and balance beam. I was pretty good I guess, winning plenty of awards for the meets. One day, Senior year, I fell. I was doing a back flip on the balance beam, like I had done hundreds of times before, but this time, I fell to the floor upside down on my head. That’s a long way to fall off a four- inch plank.  I was ok but my self- confidence was not. My coach let me settle down a bit and then told me to do it again.  Although I was able to do it a couple of times during that season, I never felt self-confidence like I had before. It was stuck in my mind “I might fall”. Lots of us struggle when we fall with a difficult diagnosis, a family challenge, a business problem, addiction - no matter what it is. But what does it mean to get back up?   One of the best examples might be the undoing of Tiger Woods. The world watched the arguably finest golf player ever fall to grace upon a marriage scandal of proportions hard to fathom. In a humiliating public arena, we watched the demise of not only his reputation, his marriage, his wealth but also his storied role as the greatest golfer ever- as he even lost his swing. This story doesn’t end here though. Woods has slowly rebuilt his life, his game, and even his reputation. Although he still gets into top golf competitions, he doesn’t perform nearly close to what he used to. But this is the greatest part of this story for me. He’s out there. He’s trying. He has learned some hard things the hard way but has decided to get up anyway.  And I admire this kind of grit from anyone, digging deep to learn more about oneself and understanding that often the best success doesn’t come from the shiny awards, the new job or the results from the doctor’s office, but for the inner sense that by picking yourself up, you have already won.

We are still basking in the amazing feels from this past Saturday’s Get Your Rear in Gear  event, hosted by the Colon Cancer Coalition  at First Ward Park in Charlotte. It was one of those days that fills your heart and reminds you exactly why this community is so special. There’s something sacred about arriving in the early morning hours, before the city has even started to stir. That quiet, reflective time has become a ritual for me—this was my 7th year  supporting colon cancer survivors through the GYRG Survivor area, and each year I find myself remembering those we've lost and celebrating those who continue to thrive. It’s a moment to honor every single survivor counting the years since diagnosis, and the strength it takes to do so. As the sun began to rise, casting an orange glow  over the Survivor, Friends & Family tent, it felt like a warm embrace—a promise of hope and healing. The Charlotte GYRG has truly become a homecoming . Survivors, friends, families—so many familiar faces gathered once again to walk, to run, and to celebrate life together. The After Cancer team  was honored to be there, welcoming survivors with open arms and open hearts. We shared stories of hope, resilience, and recovery , and introduced many to our virtual survivorship program . It was exciting to offer integrative care and support to every survivor who registered for the race. Knowing we can continue supporting them beyond this one day means the world to us. One of the most touching additions this year was the debut of “Kids Comfort Bags,”  lovingly created by 12-year-old Alyssa Miller . These bags, filled with items to help children express their emotions, carry the powerful message: “You are not alone.”  It was such an honor to hand these out to the young ones attending GYRG. Alyssa’s compassion and thoughtfulness reminded us all that support comes in many beautiful forms. The weather was perfect , the crowd was record-breaking , and the energy was phenomenal . From the moment the first teams arrived—captured beautifully in the opening photo of the race—you could feel the excitement and love in the air. Charlotte, thank you for showing up with your hearts wide open. Thank you to the Colon Cancer Coalition for organizing such a meaningful event. And to every survivor, caregiver, and supporter: we see you, we honor you, and we are here for you—every step of the way. With gratitude and love, Cheryl Lecroy

March 8th, 2025, was more than just a date on the calendar—it was a radiant celebration of life, love, and legacy. The Go Jen Go Foundation hosted a fabulous breast cancer race that brought our community together in a way that was truly magical. As the sun beamed down on us, we also joined the world in honoring National Women’s Day , making the day even more powerful and meaningful. From the moment we arrived, there was a sense of joy and connection in the air. The DJ didn’t miss a beat, cheering on the incredible women who showed up to walk, run, and rally. It felt like the whole day was wrapped in celebration and empowerment—an affirmation of the strength that lives in each woman who has faced or is facing breast cancer. And yet, amidst the celebration, there was a soft, humble undercurrent of remembrance. The race is named for Jen Pagani , a woman whose spirit continues to touch this community in beautiful ways. Through the heartfelt stories shared by those who knew her best, you could almost feel Jen’s presence. Her light, her strength, her joy—it was all there with us, guiding our steps. One of the most touching parts of the morning was seeing the men in pink tutus  running alongside the women they love. Their presence reminded us that this journey isn’t walked alone—it’s one of community, of support, and of unwavering love. We also had the pleasure of visiting with other incredible non-profits who, like us, are working to serve and support the breast cancer community. It’s always uplifting to connect with others on this path, to share stories, hugs, and hope. Smile. Sun. Warmth. Community. Connection.  That’s what this day was made of. It was a perfect event that reminded us how powerful we are—especially when we come together. I’m so grateful to be part of this beautiful, resilient community. Thank you, Go Jen Go, for letting us walk (and dance!) in Jen’s light. 💖

Marie Theriault, instructor of Tai Chi, Qigong and Yoga at The After Cancer Fatigue is something that everyone experiences.  Cancer-Related Fatigue  (CRF) is much more difficult.  It is a combination of physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion that persists during and sometimes after cancer treatment.  Simple tasks such as taking a shower may require a nap.  At the same time, getting that shower in offers a sense of accomplishment.  It’s a little win that brings hope. The causes of CRF are many.  It could be the cancer itself, the treatments, the anxiety that causes sleeplessness , improper nutrition , digestive disturbances, pain, weakness, or a feeling of overwhelm. When I think of Cancer Related Fatigue, I recall a conversation that I had with my brother who had been diagnosed with non-hodgkins lymphoma.  He had endured many harsh treatments and ultimately needed a stem-cell transplant.  He was talking to me about his extreme level of exhaustion and described it like this:  He said, “It’s like you see a pencil across the room, and you know you need that pencil, but you just don’t have the strength to stand up and get it.  You may look at it for a long time, trying to muster up the energy to get there.  Whether or not you do just depends on the day.”  Perhaps this is an extreme example, but anyone experiencing CRF can certainly relate. The American Cancer Society  has many recommendations for coping with CRF.  Getting moving  is one of them.  Take a walk to the mailbox, throw in a load of laundry, do some gentle stretches in a chair.  Make little neck circles, rotate wrists and ankles, stretch out fingers and toes.  Even tiny micro movements done for a few minutes several times a day can really help.  The effects will be uplifting and cumulative if done over time.   In this 2021 study , patients who participated in yoga showed significantly greater improvements in CRF and a reduction in anxiety, fear and depression. These benefits can also be gained by practicing Tai Chi and Qigong.  The results of Clinical Trials published by the Oncology Nursing Society  also discusses the benefits of Tai Chi for CRF.   A study led by Brown University  researchers found that a low-impact, meditative movement program involving Qigong was as effective as more standard exercise programs in improving cancer-related fatigue.  Other tips for managing CRF are staying hydrated, eating nutrient-dense foods, and practicing mindfulness meditation for stress management, and seeking assistance from an oncology-trained therapist or physician. There is so much evidence supporting the positive effects of mindful movement to improve symptoms of CRF.  The key is to find a style of exercise  that you enjoy and that you will look forward to doing.  The online classes with The After Cancer make it easy to participate.  The idea is to do what you can and rest when you need to.  Even just watching is a good distraction and a learning experience that is uplifting.  Being in a group with others who understand and support you takes away loneliness and offers a safe place to exercise that is appropriate for you.

This photo is of me at my second opinion consultation with the cancer docs at the UCHealth Diane O’Connor Thompson Breast Center in March 2015, unhappy about the stereotypically ugly pink smock and tired of being poked and prodded. I had already had half my hair cut off because I thought it would help make the thought of losing all my hair easier to accept.  Five year anniversary as a breast cancer survivor Well, I did it! I reached THE milestone. Yep, on February 11 I reached my five-year anniversary as a breast cancer survivor.  Rene, my husband, was at a work-related conference in San Antonio, so I was home alone, which didn’t creep me out; however, his absence reinforced how it takes a village of two for the Simard household to function properly. Since it snowed (again!) during the night before the big day, I got up 45 minutes earlier than usual, then ventured outside to shovel sidewalks. After pulling on my furry white snow boots and gearing up to face Mother Nature’s wrath, I walked out the garage service door, dreading the task ahead.  Much to my stunning surprise, though, when I closed the door behind me, I realized the world was completely still as I shuffled across the driveway through what felt like 4 inches of baby powder. I felt at peace in the pristine beauty of freshly-fallen snow, and I wished the epic moment of tranquil darkness could last forever. I said a silent prayer of thanks while I effortlessly glided the snow shovel along, remembering the queasies of chemo nausea whenever I smelled coffee or jet fuel, the stare-downs with strangers over my baldness, and the creepiness of the closed suction drain that hung from my side under my left armpit for two weeks after lumpectomy surgery.  Staying positive after a cancer diagnosis Although I am committed to remaining positive, let’s face it. My 2015 was unpleasant. Okay, it sucked. But it changed my life. On the day after I was diagnosed, I had my first-ever MRI, a breast MRI to determine the exact number of tumors. After plopping face-down on the MRI table and being pushed backward into the tube that reminded me of the inside of an irrigation pipe, I gave myself the first of many pep talks to help me cope with trauma-induced anxiety. During my ponderance of the opportunity to wallow in perpetual self-pity, I decided to embrace the opportunity to be brave. That’s right, from Day 2, I viewed breast cancer as an opportunity.    Who was I before February 11, 2015? Those who knew me then say I was the one behind the scenes, getting things done, making others look their best. “I think you exceled at putting the chess game together — in work and in your charitable pursuits — but you weren’t the person necessarily holding the microphone,” says one of my dearest friends. During treatment, I was annoyed, achy and fatigued 90% of the time, elated or confident 9% of the time and “fine” 1% of the time. More feedback from another cherished friend:  “I’ve literally never met anyone more resilient than you, and this came across so purely during treatment. You were informed, you were determined, and you were always optimistic. I distinctly remember sitting at lunch with you during treatment and you endeavoring to poke fun at the process and make me laugh!” Rene says that before cancer I was a quietly strong and committed woman. “During and after treatment, it was Diane’s resilience, passion and determination that came bursting to the surface,” he says. “I am in awe of how she has embraced life and inspired by the positive impact she continues to make on me and others.” The what ifs These days I ponder what might have happened if my mammogram in early February 2015 had not picked up on something in my left breast that appeared to be “clustering.” My oncologist has admitted I likely had breast cancer for several years, but the tumors were too small to be detected during my annual mammograms. What if the largest 2 cm tumor hadn’t been noticed five years ago? Then what?  Many have told me to focus more on gratitude than pondering the unthinkable. But I am a realist, so spending time on “what if” is a priority. I haven’t blogged on my weird dreams lately, but I still dream at least once a week about being lost in a shopping mall or cruise ship with no way out, facing an approaching tornado, standing in an imploding house while walls start crumbling, or watching in frozen horror as floodwaters begin to rise. The difference in my dreams after surviving cancer is that I now attempt to avoid the pending danger. I walk up and down staircases, attempting find a way out, or I begin screaming for help (thankfully not out loud), usually calling out my oldest brother, Randy’s, name.  I have become a fighter, doing everything in my power to live a healthy life in peace, to be tactfully candid in my messaging, and to offer insight, love and hope to others. Most important: I have finally stopped trying to be perfect and accepted myself for who I am.  Warts and all. About the Author Diane M. Simard Psycho-oncology Advocate Author | Motivational Speaker Podcaster | Patient Advisor Stage IIIc Breast Cancer Survivor To learn more, please visit her website at DianeMSimard.com .

I believe cancer’s emotional scars deserve compassionate healing.  Here’s why. Near the end of my 16 chemo infusions for Stage IIIc infiltrating ductile carcinoma ( breast cancer ) in 2015, I cycled into depression due to the repetitive nature of treatment. Consumed with fear that I would never feel good again. When I asked my medical oncologist for a referral to a counselor who understood what it was like for a control freak like me to experience something as bewildering as cancer, she said she didn’t know of anyone who specialized in working with cancer patients. Then she said if I did find such a healer, they likely wouldn’t accept my health insurance. Initially, I was shocked and frustrated by her response, but after some brief research I realized not enough training opportunities were available to educate mental health therapists and the general public about the unique aspects of cancer-related trauma. So, I seed funded and founded a specialty at the University of Denver called the Center for Oncology Psychology Excellence (COPE) and continue to advocate for more attention and resources to be paid to the intersection of mental health and cancer, a field referred to as psychosocial oncology, also known as psycho-oncology .  In essence, psycho-oncology is a cancer specialty that helps patients, survivors, and caregivers address the variety of emotional, psychological, behavioral, and social issues that can accompany a cancer experience. Efforts include taking care of basic needs, improving communication, addressing emotional reactions, and making action plans. Psychological trauma created by cancer can change an individual’s capacity to reason, sometimes savagely erasing the ability to cope and impacting their body’s ability to heal. A global survey commissioned in 2020 by the Wellcome Trust found that 92 percent of people viewed mental health as being equally important to overall wellbeing as physical health, if not more so.  The most common symptoms of mental health trauma from cancer experiences are distress, depression, and anxiety . Here is a breakdown: Distress symptoms Sadness, fear, anger Helpless, hopeless, not in control Pulling away from relationships Worry Depression symptoms Emotionally numb Nervous and shaky Moody Difficult to maintain focus Suicidal thoughts Problems sleeping Anxiety symptoms Uncontrollable worry Muscle tension Trembling and shaking Restlessness Dry mouth Irritability Anger outbursts In addition, fear that cancer could return (FCR) is a common concern, often aggravated by treatment anniversaries or learning someone close has received a cancer diagnosis. FCR is different from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) , which causes one to relive past events. Despite these concerns, there are a variety of mental health resources that may help address the symptoms: Work with a mental health professional trained in psycho-oncology Join a support group Write in a journal Look into equine therapy Explore art, music, or theater resources specifically for those impacted by cancer Increase your physical activity Schedule “worry sessions” Perform breathing exercises Consider digital therapeutics (cognitive behavioral stress management), often available as cancer distress apps Trauma can be a tough but transformational teacher. Besides focusing on launching COPE, writing became my preferred form of self-therapy during treatment. In addition to authoring books about how my cancer experience was transformational, I blog, speak, and advocate about the importance of patient-centered cancer care. About the Author Diane M. Simard Psycho-oncology Advocate Author | Motivational Speaker Podcaster | Patient Advisor Stage IIIc Breast Cancer Survivor To learn more, please visit her website at DianeMSimard.com .

I love water sports and it's one of the approaches I take to move more and de-stress. Cancer Prevention Month triggers me. Does it mean it’s up to me to prevent cancer? If only it were that simple. As someone with several family members with cancer, I’m acutely aware of my own risk. Every time I hear about “cancer prevention,” it feels overwhelming—like a burden. I used to avoid thinking too much about it because, honestly, the idea that I could somehow prevent cancer felt both empowering and terrifying. But my curiosity (and probably my anxiety) pushed me to dig deeper into what cancer prevention really meant to me. Through research, reading, and lots of reflection, I started breaking it down in a way that made sense for me: Things I Can Control: My lifestyle: I know what I eat , how much I move , and how I sleep all play a role. My environmental exposure : I've been upgrading and opting for clean brands for household and beauty products, and cooking utensils. My screenings and check-ups routine: This one is fully in my control, and I stay on top of it. What I Can’t Control: My genes My cells Screening results I try to focus on what’s in my hands and let go of the rest. Over the past few years, I’ve made small, sustainable changes—cutting back on alcohol and processed meats (I probably have them once a month or less), drinking green tea daily, and making an effort to eat 5 portions of fruits and veggies every day. I know I don’t move as much as I should on work days but I try doing short workouts and compensating on the weekends. Am I perfect? Nope. I try to do the best I can that fits into my life without stressing me out. Step by step I know I'm going in the right direction and I feel empowered by my decisions. For me, cancer prevention is about making choices that help me live a healthier, happier life— without driving me crazy in the process — and knowing that if one day I hear the bad news, I know I did the best that I could. What does cancer prevention mean to you? This month, we're deep-diving into risk-reduction strategies and we'll cover the main "controllable" areas of our lifestyles: movement , nutrition , stress , and sleep . Watch our blog and social media to learn a few tricks to reduce your risk and improve your overall wellbeing.

Breast cancer . A stealthy, inconvenient bully that incites terror and bewilderment. A havoc-wreaker on women (and some men) of all ages.  My time in the breast cancer ring occurred in 2015 when I was 49. I was an anomaly—an enigma who didn’t fit the statistical parameters since my non-aggressive grade of breast cancer was behaving aggressively. I was diagnosed as a late Stage III because my three breast tumors were two centimeters or less, yet cancer had spread to at least one axillary lymph node, perhaps as many as five. Since the tumors had a high probability of spreading throughout the rest of my body, I was prescribed the nuclear bomb treatment, a plan that was vetted and confirmed by a second-opinion medical team. Like so many other cancer patients, there was no history of breast cancer in my family. The day I was diagnosed, I went through the typical stages of shock, denial, and anger. But I quickly realized I wanted to experience cancer deeply, capturing the reactions from strangers in the grocery store who saw me in a bandana and describing to them the nauseating smells of red onions and jet fuel that nearly made me faint in the first few days after each of my 16 chemo infusions.  Details of the excruciating sorrow I experienced every time I met or witnessed a terminal cancer patient were captured in my journal, later published as The Unlikely Gift of Breast Cancer , named one of the best breast cancer books of all time by BookAuthority.org . This spring, in recognition of my 10 years as a survivor, I will release the book’s sequel, Unlikely Gifts Unwrapped: Unfiltered Reflections on Life after Breast Cancer, which has already received five stars from Readers’ Favorite. Sign up for my monthly newsletter and blog at DianeMSimard.com for details on how to purchase Unlikely Gifts Unwrapped  and my other award-winning books.  Cancer is never invited, and cancer never leaves. The experience transformed me into a clearer-thinking, purposeful business leader and forced me to ponder my mortality. As a result, I now live with intention, embracing the second chance I was given to do a more impactful job of living.  About the Author Diane M. Simard Psycho-oncology Advocate Author | Motivational Speaker Podcaster | Patient Advisor Stage IIIc Breast Cancer Survivor To learn more, please visit her website at DianeMSimard.com .

Oh 2024, you overstuffed year of hype and divisiveness, give me space to breathe.  It’s January 2025—time to pause, reflect, and attempt to figure out what just happened.  Let’s see. I won’t bring up presidential politics because I know better. If I had to summarize what I remember about 2024 in speed round style it would go something like this: Taylor Swift, hurricanes, weight loss drugs, AI, Tayvis, Boeing problems, Middle East turmoil, and Paris Olympics.  Thankfully, though, there were welcome moments of unexpected clarity.  My annual Oncology appointment In November I had my annual oncology appointment —this year with my medical oncologist, not one of the nurse practitioners. I am a grateful nine-year survivor of Stage IIIc breast cancer who writes and advocates for more resources and attention to be paid to the impact a traumatic cancer experience has on our long-term mental and behavioral health.  We had a few minutes to spare after my medical oncologist and I reviewed the routine list of post-cancer questions, so I asked if I could hammer her with a few questions. At the time I was working on the final draft for my next book, Unlikely Gifts Unwrapped , about what life after cancer has been like as I continue to seek answers, understand the new me, and blaze my path forward. A sobering conversation with my Oncologist Here is a recap of our conversation: Me: Since my breast cancer was “estrogen-fed” and chemo launched me into menopause, will I ever be able to take estrogen supplements to help balance me out? I mean, I’m 59 now and those who know me are still trying to get used to how unfiltered I can be. Oncologist: I recommend you continue to avoid estrogen. The risks vary based on a range of factors, but they far outweigh any potential benefits.  Me: Okay. I had no idea how much of a long-term impact cancer can continue to have . Oncologist: (No words, just a smile). Me: As you know, I continue to advocate for more attention to be paid to mental health and cancer , but it appears that, statistically, cancer is either continuing to become more prevalent, or life with cancer is being prolonged, or some are getting diagnosed earlier. I don’t know. What do you think is really happening? Oncologist: It’s a combination of factors, but yes, overall, our cancer care center here is busier than ever. Some of my patients are experiencing cancer multiple times, but are being diagnosed with new, different types of cancer. Me: What concerns you most about the future when it comes to cancer? Oncologist: The shortage of oncologists. We need more of them, and I don’t see nearly enough entering the field.  Me: Wow, that’s sobering. I’m curious, since you just mentioned more occurrences of different types of cancer, what is the highest number of times one of your patients has received a diagnosis of a different type of cancer? Oncologist: Seven. It’s a man, and he has the BRCA gene.  Me: I can’t even imagine going through treatment seven times for a different type of cancer. Oncologist: To say he’s resilient would be an understatement. That conversation, as sobering as it was, was one of the most memorable moments for me in 2024. Nothing—yet everything—about what she said made sense. What she provided was clear-cut honesty about a complex, troubling disease that continues to haunt me in unthinkable ways.  From asking why me, to focusing on living better Nowadays, though, instead of asking Why Me, I focus on doing a better job of living. Which includes forgiving, saying no more often, setting boundaries, and focusing on those who accept and appreciate me for who I am. But I will never stop asking questions, seeking answers and information. Because that’s how I grow. And continue to heal. About the Author Diane M. Simard Psycho-oncology Advocate Author | Motivational Speaker Podcaster | Patient Advisor Stage IIIc Breast Cancer Survivor To learn more, please visit her website at DianeMSimard.com .