Weekly Round-Up

Welcome, dear readers. I’m so glad you’re here. Each week, these stories remind me how personal experiences—whether painful, hopeful, or healing—can ripple out to teach and connect us.

Carolyn writes about how a cancer diagnosis—or any serious medical condition—can trigger unhelpful thought patterns. Drawing from her own experience with invasive ductal carcinoma, she describes how fear, uncertainty, and treatment side effects can distort reality. These racing thoughts and worst-case scenarios, she reminds us, are a natural response, not a personal failing.

Beth recounts her harrowing hospital experience after breast reconstruction surgery—from neglected Doppler checks to mocking staff and unsafe conditions. The trauma she endured still echoes today, yet she contrasts it with the healing she’s found through psychotherapy and art. Her newest draft of Surrender continues that process, turning pain into creative expression.

Dee outlines what happens when someone sees a doctor with ovarian cancer symptoms — including use of ultrasound, CT or MRI scans, and CA-125 blood tests.

Abigail shares a recent update on her metastatic breast cancer journey. Facing ambiguous scan results and shifting treatment decisions, she writes candidly about living in that uneasy space between what is known and what remains uncertain.

Nancy reflects on a lifetime of complicated messages about weight—from shopping in the “chubby” section as a child to navigating weight gain during treatment and hormone therapy. Now, instead of chasing diets or numbers on a chart, she focuses on walking, moderation, and opening space for honest conversation about body image and health.

Barbara reminds us that while a breast cancer diagnosis can feel overwhelming, it need not eclipse all else. Even in fearful moments, joy, connection, and small pleasures can remain part of daily life. Hope, she writes, is always possible.

Amy looks at the personal and collective lessons of her hereditary cancer journey—carrying the BRCA gene, grieving family losses, and finding strength in knowledge and awareness.

Gabby encourages us to mark life’s thresholds, both large and small, with simple rituals—journaling, lighting a candle, or walking mindfully. Especially after cancer treatment, she suggests, such practices help us let go of the past, embrace the present, and gently step into what comes next.

Finally this week, Connie tells the story of how her friend Delores sparked a chain reaction of kindness by encouraging outreach to a five-year-old boy with cancer. Connie’s own gesture—a Spiderman Lego set and a note—brought to mind the gifts she once received during chemo. She reflects on how small acts of compassion can ripple outward, multiplying far beyond what we ever see.

Until next time,

May you find steady moments of hope, kindness, and connection in the days ahead.

Much love always

Marie xxx