Weekly Round-Up
Welcome to this week’s blog round up.
Terri opens the round-up by stepping into the professional spaces where much of this work begins. She explains why microsurgery conferences matter, describing them as some of the most complex and high-level environments for learning about reconstructive surgery. Alongside this, she offers practical guidance on how to approach these meetings — particularly the long lead times required for planning and registration.
Dee shares a tender tribute to her beloved dog, Amber, whose companionship spanned cancer treatment, long walks, agility classes, and moments of fear and reassurance. Her reflection captures how animals can quietly anchor us through illness and change, offering presence and comfort when words are unnecessary.
In “When Words Fail,” Beth allows her painting to speak for itself. The image becomes a visual meditation on distance, connection, and the quiet work of bridging what feels divided — a reminder that some experiences are best held through art rather than explanation.
Carolyn reflects on the in-between season after chemotherapy and mastectomy—when treatment may be finished, but recovery is still fragile and uncertain. Using a reader’s woodland metaphor, she writes about finding small “clearings” of light while still navigating fatigue, nerve damage, and late effects, offering a framework that validates just how complex survivorship can be.
Connie writes about the varied individuals she encounters and the insights gained by seeing situations through others’ eyes. She explores the value of empathy, curiosity, and patience in everyday interactions, reminding readers that everyone carries unseen experiences and motivations.
Becky shares her personal journey toward speaking up for her health needs and boundaries, particularly in healthcare and everyday life. She reflects on how self-advocacy has helped her gain confidence, clarity, and better outcomes, while also acknowledging that it doesn’t always come naturally or easily.
Barbara contemplates why having something to look forward to — personal goals or small future milestones — can be a vital source of hope and motivation for people living with or beyond cancer.
Suzanne brings us back to a familiar annual ritual for many survivors: the mammogram. She captures the cycle of anxiety and relief that accompanies yearly screening, naming both the emotional weight of “scanxiety” and the practical decisions that surround timing and logistics.
Finally, Abigail closes the round-up with a reflection on living with Stage IV metastatic breast cancer. Using the metaphor of doors and windows, she writes honestly about finite treatment options and how a recent melanoma diagnosis reshaped her priorities. Her piece holds vigilance and hope together, offering insight into how to stay attentive, proactive, and open to small silver linings, even when paths forward feel limited.
Until next week,
May the week ahead offer steadiness, compassion, and moments of connection — however and wherever they arrive.
Much love always
Marie xxx
