I don't even know where to start with this.

When they told me stage 4, I didn't cry. I went completely quiet. My husband was next to me and I couldn't even look at him. Four spots on my lungs. I kept thinking about the number four for some reasons - I told myself, some of them may be not cancerous.

They did the colon surgery first. Then we waited five months. I hated those five months more than the surgery honestly. Every small cough I thought, is that it. Is that the cancer moving. The lung surgery went okay. I thought okay. Two months later. New spot. Left lung.

I called my sister before I called my husband. I don't know why. I just needed someone who would cry WITH me not FOR me if that makes sense.

More surgery. Then chemo. My hands went so numb I kept dropping things. Cups, my phone. We stopped the chemo early because of the nerve damage and honestly I was relieved and terrified at the same time. What if stopping early means it comes back.

Luckily, it didn't come back.

That was 6 years ago.

My doctor said the word cured at my last appointment last month - I know some doctors don't even want to say this word, but that means a lot to me today, even if I know it may come back some day.

I first heard the words “breast cancer” in 2003. It was in my left breast. I had surgery, then 6 cycles of chemotherapy. At the time, I was very positive. I thought that was the whole story: get treated, recover, and try to live normally again. For a few years, I did.

Then in 2008, cancer appeared in my right breast. I had a mastectomy. My doctors told me the tumor was HER2+, so I received Herceptin for a year. I tolerated it well. I tried to believe I could put cancer behind me again.

2 years later, scans started showing lesions in my pelvis and spine. My tumor markers were normal, which made everything confusing for me. But I still started Xeloda and Tykerb. Later that year, I had radiation to my left iliac bone. Over the years, I stayed on different treatments: Herceptin, bone-strengthening medicine.

You know, there were ups and downs - good scans and frightening scans. In 2017, my PET scan showed no visible tumor. I am ok up till now. I am living with the nasty cancer for more than 2 decades.

I found a lump on my neck in 2019. Went to a walk-in. Two weeks later they told me I had small-cell lung cancer, already spread. Extensive stage. I looked it up. Statistics said I might have 12 months. That was a bad, long night.

Did 4 rounds of chemo plus an immunotherapy drug called atezolizumab. Then radiation to my lung and neck. Responded well. Then 9 months in it started coming back. Did 6 more rounds of chemo, same immunotherapy. After that, almost everything gone on the scans.

That was 2021. I've been on maintenance immunotherapy every 3 weeks since. 72 infusions (Yes, I counted in my small notebook to see how far I could get). Had one liver issue that cleared up with steroids. Had jaw surgery twice from a bone medication. But my oncologist grades my functional status at zero impairment.

I'm 63. Still working as a refrigerator mechanic. Full days. I don't know exactly why it worked for me. Luck is part of it for sure. But the treatment available now isn't what existed 10 yrs ago.

5 years ago they told me I had stage IV rectal cancer. Today my scan is clean.

I was 53 when they found it. Rectal cancer, already in the liver, 2 spots. Stage 4, just like that. They went in for the main tumor first. Then watched and waited 2 mo to see if more showed up in the liver. They didn't. So they took those out too. Then Folfox chemo which my body didn't handle great, had to switch regimens halfway through. Fine!

Nobody was throwing around the word "cured" at the time. I wasn't asking for it either. I just wanted to get through each step. Five years later, still no recurrence. Every follow-up clean.

It's still a nasty disease but I'm feeling great today!

Hi, Sofia's here. Triple-negative. BRCA1. Metastatic at 45. I'm still here.

I was first diagnosed at 38. Did the chemo, lost my hair, did radiation, told myself okay, that's done. 5 years later it came back in the other breast. Fine. Surgery again. More chemo. Then in 2018 the scans showed skin, lymph nodes, ribs. That's when they said metastatic and honestly I don't remember much of that appointment after that word. Two trials. The first one paclitaxel, five months and it stopped working. The second one was immunotherapy & carboplatin, 17 rounds, over a year. I was so tired. That bought me 14 months.

Then we were talking about a third treatment and I remember thinking I'm not sure how much more of this I have in me.
Olaparib. A pill. Twice a day at home. I didn't trust it at first, it felt too easy almost?

Six months in. PET scan. NO TUMOR LEFT.

I cried in the car on the way home. Ugly crying. The kind where you can't really explain it to anyone who hasn't been there.
That was over five years ago now. I still take those pills every single day. Scan days are still hard. I won't pretend otherwise.
But I'm here. Cooking dinner, annoying my kids, making plans.

If you're reading this in the middle of it all and you're exhausted - Keep going if you can.

I promised when I was deep in FOLFOX cycles, losing feeling in my fingers, if I made it to 5 years, I'd come back to spread my words. So here I am.

Stage IV, liver mets, sigmoid resection & liver resection, 18 rounds of chemo. The neuropathy took 2years to mostly resolve. The CT anxiety never fully goes away.

But this month: five years NED! If you are in the early cycles, I was you. This is possible! The statistics are not your destiny.

I was 33 years old with stage 4 lung cancer in both lungs. No targetable mutations.

Over six years I went through 5 different chemo regimens, about 2 years of immunotherapy, 3 clinical trials, and radiation. The fatigue and nausea never fully left, on and off for all of it. When I kept progressing and everything failed, my pulmonologist referred me to a lung transplant program. I relocated to Chicago. Two weeks in the hospital, months of physical therapy, and about 6–8 months before I actually felt like myself again.

Then the cancer came back in my spine. I went back on chemo and had radiation. Even so, I'd recommend a double lung transplant to anyone who qualifies. Treatments have come so far. Stay hopeful!

In November 2018, I was 46 years old and the healthiest I'd ever been. I was riding my bike 100 miles a week, going to exercise classes and eating keto. I had been at a new job for 5 months when a lymph node popped up on my neck in a weird spot - not the normal flu/infection lymph node spot. I waited about two weeks to see if it would go away - it did not, so I contacted my Primary Care Doctor.

She did blood work and ordered a CT scan on that lymph node. Blood work showed nothing amiss except slightly elevated calcium - nothing alarming. The CT however, caught a "spot" in my upper right lung. She then sent me for an Ultrasound guided core biopsy on the lymph node. I was told it was Squamous Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer. I then had a PET scan that showed I had Stage 4.

I started on immunotherapy and in 3 months, I had broken bones, lumps everywhere, was in a wheelchair, wearing diapers, sleeping 23 hours a day. As I was getting ready to ask to be put on hospice, my oncologist said "it's rare for Squamous to have a targetable mutation, but you have one. We're going to start your on this targeted oral medication."

Within 1 week, most of the lumps were gone and I was awake 15 hours a day. By week 2, I was out of the wheelchair and acting like nothing happened.

I'm now 7-1/2 years thriving with Stage 4 Squamous NSCLC. I am still taking my targeted therapy.

If you have Non-small cell of any sub-type (adenocarcinoma/squamous), get Next Generation Sequencing (biomarker testing) - it may extend your life!

Triple negative is the one people say is hardest. No hormone receptors, no HER2. Fewer targeted options. My stage 4 diagnosis came at 39 and I sat with my oncologist for a long time that first appointment, trying to understand what we could do. She explained that because my tumor was PD-L1 positive, I was eligible for Keytruda combined with chemo.

Seven months in, the immunotherapy has caused real side effects. I developed a skin rash and joint inflammation early, managed with a short steroid taper. The chemo knocked my blood counts badly enough to delay one cycle by two weeks. But my last CT showed significant reduction in all visible tumors. SIGNIFICANT.

TNBC feels like a harder road because in some ways it is. But there are more options now than there were 5 years ago. That matters enormously!

This Mother's Day, I woke up at 6:48am because a 2 yo climbed directly onto my face. And I want to tell you I have never been happier in my entire life.

I was 34 when I got the call. Stage 4, HR+, mets to my liver and four spots on my bones. I had 2 kids at home. I remember sitting on the bathroom floor after hanging up the phone thinking: I am not leaving them. That was sixteen months ago.

Now, my tumor marker has come down from 312 to 74. My oncologist calls it a meaningful response. Yes, I've had neutropenia from the Ibrance which meant delays, extra blood draws, and one very anxious week waiting to restart. Yes, there are days when getting off the couch feels like a genuine achievement. Fatigue that sits in your bones, not just your muscles. The kind tired that a good night's sleep doesn't fix.

But here is what I also know: I take my pills every single morning. I make it to every single appointment. I drop my babies at school and I am there — not just physically, but actually, fully there.

Three years ago I sat in that cold little office and heard "stage IV, metastatic breast cancer." I remember driving home and not remembering anything about the drive. Nodes in my spine. My oncologist said the word "treatable" but all I heard was "terminal." Fast forward to last Tuesday's scan - CLEAN. No evidence of disease. I'm still shaking as I type this. It didn't happen overnight and it wasn't pretty - two different chemo regimens, a clinical trial, more blood draws than I can count. If you're at the beginning of this and terrified, I get it. Keep going.

Shaking. Crying in my car in the parking lot right now. My oncologist just said "no evidence of disease." Stage IV breast cancer diagnosed 2021. Mets to lymph nodes and liver. Clean scans three times in a row. This doesn't mean it's gone forever. But it means right now, today, I am winning. That's enough!!!

3 rounds into AC chemo and nobody warned me the fatigue would be different from regular tired. This isn't tired. This is being pinned to the mattress by something invisible. I slept 17 hours yesterday and woke up exhausted. My hands are tingling, food tastes like copper, and I cried at a paper towel commercial. But I got up and ate half a bowl of soup. Counting that as a win today.

I wasn't going to post this because I'm superstitious and felt like if I said it out loud the universe would take it back. But here it is: NED. Stage 4 HER2+ diagnosed 28 months ago with liver and bone mets. I've been on Herceptin and Perjeta since month one, added Taxol the first year. My last three scans have been clean and my oncologist used the words "exceptional responder" today. I'm not cured. I know that. But I'm sitting here alive and feeling pretty okay, and that is so much more than I thought I'd have.

Six months on Tamoxifen and I want to be honest with people who are just starting it. The hot flashes are real. Mine hit every 45 minutes like clockwork, including through the night. My joints ache so badly in the morning I walk like I'm 90 for the first hour. Weight went up 8 pounds despite eating exactly the same. Some days I'm in a fog by noon. I know it's working and I'm grateful. But I also needed someone to tell me these things were real and not in my head. They are real. You're not imagining it. Hang in there.