It was a normal Friday, I was outside playing with our three girls and walked over to the mailbox to grab the mail and there it was. An envelope addre...
Now eight years after college I wonder if I could I ever do what Rachel did -- live with cancer without any possibility of a cure, all while never letting up on exclamation points?
We are in a different time period thanks to scientific discovery. Our health care system and our views of what cancer looks like need to expand to match up with where we are.
Regardless of age, having cancer is a difficult experience. Living with cancer as a young adult presents unique challenges, such as dealing with reduced or impaired fertility rates, disruptions in education plans, etc. However, being diagnosed with cancer as a LGBTQQ-identified person, involves other difficulties.
There will be a few challenges along the way, and here's a big one. You found your life's mate and you are ready to start a family. The only trouble is, because of your medical history, your body is incapable of holding a pregnancy to term.
I strongly believe everything happens for a reason. Had terminal cancer not happened to me, I would not have been able to inspire my closest friends and family to appreciate the beautiful gift of life a little more and live more appreciative and positive lives with my story.
Fear means different things to different people. To some, fear manifests as anger. For others, fear is sorrow. For each person, identifying their fears is an intensely personal part of LungLeavin' Day.
Imagine you are a young adult, in your 20s or even early 30s. You haven't been feeling well lately, shake it off and then finally decide to make an appointment with your physician.
Last month, I headed south to Houston, Texas, to attend the Young Survival Coalition's (YSC) conference for young women affected by breast cancer and their supporters (who YSC have accurately dubbed, co-survivors). The theme of the conference this year (#YSC2015) was "young. strong. connected."
This past October, I was part of an unlikely and impromptu chorus singing at the funeral service for "Princess" Evey Cannon who died from cancer at the unfair and tender age of four years old.