Emotional Health & Coping

Yesterday I completed the last day of my radiation treatment. It was a quiet ending, without bells or ceremony, but filled with deep gratitude. The side effects were stronger in the final stretch, and finishing brought a relief I felt in every part of myself. Today is Thanksgiving, and the timing adds even more meaning to this moment. This post reflects on the end of this chapter, the lessons I carried, and the quiet strength found along the way.

A grounded reflection on my first days of radiation. The routine, the unexpected reactions, the quiet internal shift, and the way this treatment is shaping my journey both in life and in running

A reflective look at the emotional overwhelm of a cancer journey, through the eyes of a marathon runner navigating fear, fatigue, and the quiet strength of showing up.

After surgery, before the next step — life sits in a quiet pause that feels both endless and full. Between appointments and test results, time stretches in strange ways. This is a reflection on the waiting, the anxiety, and the small anchors that keep me grounded when life feels suspended.

After my diagnosis, I chose a small circle. Not out of secrecy, but self-protection. Here’s how I told my husband and kids, set boundaries, and found steady, simple support.

What it feels like to receive a breast cancer diagnosis: shock, denial, and the strange normal of the early days. Personal reflection and coping tips.

Nothing can prepare you to see this sentence in a medical report: “You have breast cancer.” I was in the middle of a work meeting when I got a notification on my phone telling me that my breast biopsy resultswere available. Being the anxious person I am, of course I opened it right away, and when I read that sentence, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience—almost like a dream (or nightmare, if you prefer). From that moment on, nothing else felt real for a while. I