Weekly Round-Up
Welcome, dear readers. I’m so glad you’re here.
In her first October since being diagnosed with breast cancer, Carolyn describes how the word havoc feels viscerally accurate. She contrasts her experience with that of two trailblazing figures named Barbara—activist Barbara Brenner and writer Barbara Ehrenreich—who challenged the polished narratives of survivorship. While acknowledging that awareness campaigns have raised funds and visibility, Carolyn cautions that they can also blur the brutal truths many patients face. Her reminder is simple and profound: choose empathy over empty platitudes.
Continuing that call for honesty, Abigail shares key facts about metastatic breast cancer, noting that while overall diagnoses are declining, cases among younger women with more aggressive disease are rising. She urges readers to “think before you pink”—to look closely at where donations go and to remember that breast cancer is not one disease, and awareness must reflect that complexity.
In a guest essay hosted by Nancy, Rebecca Herring (“Becks”) writes about living with metastatic breast cancer and the harm of comparing one patient’s experience to another’s. For her, MBC is not a chronic condition but a terminal one, and she calls for compassion, truth-telling, and awareness grounded in reality—not pink marketing.
Becky explores the emotional toll of certainty—how fear can distort perception and tighten its grip. A nurse’s casual remark before her CT scan left her convinced her cancer had returned. When her oncologist later shared that the scans were clear, relief didn’t come right away. As she writes, it takes time to unwind from fear and believe in safety again.
Barbara marks BRA Day by tracing its origins and purpose: to raise awareness about breast reconstruction options and the choices that too many women still don’t know they have. She highlights ongoing gaps in communication and understanding—reminding readers that informed decisions are an essential part of healing.
Beth revisits the Theresienstadt Ghetto—its cruel façade and the astonishing resilience of those imprisoned there. Amid starvation and terror, art still bloomed. Her watercolor tribute to Pavel Friedmann’s poem “The Butterfly” honours the courage of those who used creativity as resistance, memory, and hope.
Connie reflects on the trees that have sheltered her through every stage of life—from childhood adventures to the forest paths of the Camino. For her, trees embody steadiness and belonging, gentle reminders of where we can root ourselves when life feels uncertain.
And to close this week’s round-up, Lisa offers a quiet invitation: take five minutes. Sit, breathe, rest, or simply be. In those small pauses, she writes, we make space for calm, gratitude, and renewal.
Until next time,
May you find stillness where you need it most, and courage where you least expect it.
Much love always
Marie xxx
