I am living in Norway, where I am under the care of the best cancer doctor in Norway and I can be closer to my family.
... I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Suddenly I had to spend all my time getting well.
When I first sat down with my oncologist the day before Thanksgiving, and she told me I would need 8 rounds of chemo, one of my first questions admittedly was: 'Will I lose my hair?' It sounds shallow, I know, but it was a very scary image to me.
I don't have cancer, I just have a tumour.
Being treated by a doctor who specializes in your kind of cancer is so important, especially for those of us who have rare or very rare cancers. They will have access to newer treatment options that may be offered only at big academic cancer centers, so you don't miss out on treatments that could help you.
I had a prostatectomy in the fall and fortunately it was encapsulated and I didn't have to go through chemotherapy.
I had a lump on my face and had a big cancer thing removed.
I heard those words that every woman fears and never wants to hear, 'You have breast cancer.
I land in New York, and next day, we go to the doctor. He looks at everything, and we had sent all our tests, and he says, 'You know, it is fourth stage, and you have 30% chance of survival.'
I will forever be grateful to my oncologist for opening the door and saying, 'Damn it, the tumor's 10 percent bigger,' before he even said hello.
Having been an oncologist and having cared for scores, if not hundreds, of dying patients, when you don't have a treatment that can shrink the tumor and the patient will die, it's a very difficult conversation. It's emotionally draining.
Being diagnosed with cancer is terrifying.
I had a lumpectomy. It wasn't that bad. Six and a half weeks of radiation.
The bad news is that my thin melanoma has something called mitosis, which means the cancer cells are dividing and multiplying even as I write. My thin melanoma has already spread outside of the tumor and into the deep layers of skin.
I had breast cancer.
