I thought I knew my why. For more than 20 years, I knew my purpose, my how, and how I wanted to live it. Then cancer changed the equation. Three years into survivorship, I find myself asking whether our why stays the same throughout life—or whether our experiences change the way we understand it. Maybe we aren’t meant to find one grand answer. Maybe we’re meant to keep asking the question.
While I know many of my readers have been wondering what has happened to me over the past few months, I simply want to say that I have been in a difficult place. Some days, I have felt like I am neither here nor there—caught in an awkward state of existence. My exhaustion has not let up. No matter how many hours of sleep I get, I can brew my morning cup of coffee, sit… Read more: Where Have I Been?
2 years and 10 months after chemo, and the world still feels too loud. The TV, the light, even a simple shower—everything demands more energy than I have. I’m learning that healing isn’t about going back… it’s about rebuilding, slowly.
Two years and eight-and-a-half months after chemo, I’m still learning how to give myself grace. One of my greatest fears wasn’t relapse — it was becoming lazy. When your body sets the pace, rest can feel like failure. But maybe I’m not lazy. Maybe I’m still healing.
A raw reflection on post-chemo life, insomnia, and the emotional fog that lingers beyond survival. This piece explores the quiet grief, chronic pain, and complicated gratitude that shape life after cancer—when healing is anything but linear.
Life after chemo is unpredictable, messy, and deeply humbling. In this post, I share what it means to live two-and-a-half years post-treatment—navigating pain, fatigue, brain fog, and small but meaningful victories while learning to own a new normal and keep writing through recovery.
Scattered Puzzle Pieces explores the messy, honest reality of post-chemo life—from rebuilding your identity to navigating brain fog, pain, and exhaustion. A raw, encouraging perspective for cancer survivors learning to rewrite their playbook.
I thought I knew my why. For more than 20 years, I knew my purpose, my how, and how I wanted to live it. Then cancer changed the equation. Three years into survivorship, I find myself asking whether our why stays the same throughout life—or whether our experiences change the way we understand it. Maybe we aren’t meant to find one grand answer. Maybe we’re meant to keep asking the question.
While I know many of my readers have been wondering what has happened to me over the past few months, I simply want to say that I have been in a difficult place. Some days, I have felt like I am neither here nor there—caught in an awkward state of existence. My exhaustion has not let up. No matter how many hours of sleep I get, I can brew my morning cup of coffee, sit… Read more: Where Have I Been?
