Living with Stage 4 Cancer: A Personal Journey

When I received the diagnosis of rare metastatic appendiceal cancer in October 2023, my life took a drastic turn. This form of cancer has no known cure and lacks a specific treatment protocol. It was an unforeseen blow to my dreams, as I had recently turned 40 and had been married for only three years. My daughter was younger than two years old then. The initial shock of being told I had stage 4 cancer, despite minimal symptoms, was overwhelming.

I’ve shared the early days of my diagnosis here and my resolve to fight for my husband and young daughter because I had ‘too much to lose.’ Everything in my life became focused on one desperate goal: doing whatever it takes to combat cancer.

I geared up for the battle. Nearly three years on, I’ve lost count of the chemotherapy sessions I’ve undergone. It might be around 45. Along with chemotherapy, I’ve faced numerous surgeries, ongoing scans, port placements, hernias, drains, stents, and bags, all while shedding 30 pounds and making frequent trips to Texas for specialized treatment. I live day to day.

The world keeps moving even when you’re navigating stage 4 cancer. Throughout this intense medical ordeal, I continue to be a devoted mother to my spirited 4-year-old girl, who means everything to me. I strive to be a present wife, manage household responsibilities, maintain my work as a journalist, support my aging parents, and use whatever energy I have left for activities I enjoy.

The rapid transitions are where the real exhaustion resides. Within a single week, I might fly to Texas for treatment, spend time in a sterile infusion room, return to New Jersey, endure sickness for two days, and then muster the strength to engage with my daughter, taking her to dance class, shopping for groceries, and handling chores a healthy individual might take for granted. If we’re fortunate, my family and I get brief moments of normalcy before the cycle restarts. The absence of a clear endpoint—the lack of a definitive light at the tunnel’s end—makes this routine feel overwhelming. Suddenly unexpected hospital stays highlight the absence of control.

Pursuing clinical trials is akin to another full-time job. This fight isn’t merely about positivity or strength; it’s the challenging reality of living with cancer. You either confront it or succumb. Despite numerous obstacles, I refuse to give up. But this doesn’t mean I don’t break. I allow myself moments of anger and tears.

Those closest to me witness these raw emotions. They endure the messy tears and bear the brunt of my frustration. They’re present, understanding the toll of this battle, and continue to support me and my family. I am immensely thankful for their steadfast presence.

Back when I started treatments, I envisioned a traditional victory: a clean scan or final treatment would mark the end. Now, I must accept that these milestones may be unlikely. People often question why I don’t take a leave from work or how I manage to continue parenting through these trials. The answer lies in the fact that these aspects of my life are vital to my identity.

My work is therapeutic, directing my thoughts away from medical timelines. As for parenting, my husband and I cherish our intelligent and healthy daughter. Yet, as she grows, we face the challenge of explaining more about my condition. We discuss the scars, talk about God, and spirituality.

Behind closed doors, my husband and I navigate discussions filled with fear. Often, the most pressing worries remain unsaid due to shared fears. This too is the reality of battling cancer while raising a young child.

My definition of victory has changed. Now, a win means having enough energy to spend time with my family doing activities we love or completing daily tasks without needing rest.

A friend once told me, ‘This is just a chapter in your life story.’ It has indeed been a lengthy, challenging chapter. Yet, none of us truly know how our story will end. I continue fighting, working, and loving wholeheartedly, hoping for many more chapters ahead.