Breast cancer education for patients — and the healthcare professionals who care for them.
Learn on your own. Explore together during a treatment session. Share trusted resources with someone you care for.
Welcome to the BrCAcademy Guestbook
We want YOU to be a part of our story. We are collecting stories, poems, words of wisdom, or anything else you have experienced in your journey that has helped along the way.
We will post them here to share with other survivors, healthcare professionals, family and friends in the hopes that it might also help them during their journey.
Words of Wisdom from Breast Cancer Survivors
From my PT, encouraging me to have fun and do the activities I thought I could not yet do, like play tennis and travel. It gave me confidence. (I loved hitting the balloon with a tennis racquet in the hallway and laughing!)
From my massage therapist, reminding me that it was still early days when I got frustrated about my iron bra syndrome.
My oncologist, when I asked her if she thought I made the right decision getting a bilateral mastectomy, said, “You are doing the hard work up front.” That gave me peace about my decision.
And from my surgeon, who looked at my pathology report and said “This isn’t going to kill you.” Literally words to live by. Ultimately, we all just want to know that we are going to be okay. Knowing that, I feel like I can get through just about anything. - MH
Years of mammograms and follow-up testing for dense breast tissue had become routine, so when I couldn’t get a timely appointment, I didn’t realize how important it was to keep pushing. By the time I was diagnosed in 2020, the cancer was already apparent and had spread to my lymph nodes. I ultimately chose bilateral mastectomies, followed by radiation and ongoing monitoring for lymphedema.
I met my PT the day before surgery, and she encouraged me to look at my breasts in the mirror and say goodbye. I have never forgotten those words. They helped me begin to accept what was happening and what I was about to lose.
One of the hardest parts was feeling that my family didn’t want me to talk openly about my cancer. I often felt I had to hide my feelings or remain silent. My therapist became an invaluable source of support—listening without judgment, encouraging me, and reminding me that I wasn’t alone. I also found comfort in my faith and in holding onto hope that suffering is not forever.
Making greeting cards for friends became another way of coping with my stress. Looking back, I realize they may also have been my quiet way of saying goodbye in case I didn’t survive.
Five years later, I was released from oncology care and able to stop Tamoxifen. I continue to live with pain in my arm and chest and the effects of muscle damage, but I am grateful to have reached this point. I’m also glad to have discovered BrCAcademy and wish it had been available earlier in my journey. I look forward to learning more, particularly about neuroscience and pain education. - BD
Self-Care for Oncology Clinicians
I’ve been an oncology physical therapist for 29 years, and I still absolutely love what I do. There is a deep sense of purpose in helping people move through cancer care while making sure they feel truly seen, heard, and supported along the way.
Although it doesn’t happen often, I have lost patients over the years, and those losses can be incredibly difficult. When you work closely with someone over many hours, you get to know the person—not just the patient. A meaningful connection develops, and then suddenly they are no longer there.
I’ve found that rituals can bring me comfort, particularly during times of significant caregiver fatigue when I feel as though I have very little left to give. During one especially difficult period, my daughter lost several beloved pets around the same time that three of my patients died. Together, we wrote each of their names on pieces of paper, decorated them, wrapped the papers around sticks with cotton thread, and released them into a nearby creek. It was a simple ritual, but it gave us a meaningful way to honor them and gently let them go.
Sometimes the ritual is even simpler. I take time to remember the wonderful people I’ve had the privilege of knowing and caring for who are no longer here. Remembering their personalities, their stories, and the moments we shared helps me honor the impact they had on my life. In that small way, it feels as though I am carrying a piece of their memory alive. - JW
Working with cancer patients is incredibly meaningful, but it also requires me to be intentional about self-care so I can continue showing up fully for my patients. To recharge, I practice yoga regularly, which helps me manage stress, stay grounded, and maintain balance both physically and mentally. I also enjoy using my sewing machine to create tote bags and toiletry bags for friends. Sewing gives me a creative outlet, allows me to focus on something positive outside of work, and brings me joy knowing I can make something useful and personal for others. These activities help me reset, stay resilient, and continue providing compassionate care to the patients I serve. - DM
Working with cancer patients means being present for people through some of the hardest and most vulnerable moments of their lives, which is deeply meaningful work. I have learned however that I can’t do this well if I’m not also taking care of myself. Audre Lorde’s idea of radical self-care really resonates, especially her reminder that “caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation.” In healthcare, we’re often expected to keep giving, to our patients, our colleagues, and the needs of the hospital. For me, staying healthy means prioritizing rest, exercise, eating well, setting non-negotiable boundaries, and unapologetically taking time for myself. I see these things not as taking away from what I give my patients, but as what allows me to keep showing up for patients in a meaningful way. - AS
All the Feels
Breathe.
You just heard the words “it’s cancer” and your soul just left your body.
Breathe again.
Life took an unexpected pivot. The possibilities are cartwheeling in your mind, and they are all horrific.
Breathe.
Breathe again.
And again.
You will feel more confident after all the initial appointments with multiple specialists are over, and your treatment plan is in place…. a plan you never wanted to make. The medical team will give you a timeline, so you can rearrange your life around treatments you do not want to take.
Breathe.
As you share your diagnosis, people will tell you that “you’re strong” and “you’ve got this” and “this is just another chapter in your life”- and you don’t want to hear it because they are just words at this point. You may come to a boiling point and totally lose your shit on somebody who does not deserve it. I certainly did.
Breathe.
It’s OK to say what you’re feeling. It’s OK to not know what is next. It’s OK to be scared. It’s OK to scream and cry and punch your pillow until the bedroom is full of feathers. You couldn’t have imagined that your body could turn against you, sprinkling cancer cells everywhere, like a child sprinkling glitter. This was NOT part of the plan. And most of all, it’s not fair. You didn’t ask for your life to change.
Breathe.
My primary care doctor sat next to me, and said, “Tara, look at me. I know this is a shock, and I know you are scared, but you will get through this. I know it doesn’t seem like it today, but no matter what the treatment entails, you will come out on the other side, and it will be OK.
Breathe.
Breathe again. And again. And again.
You are not alone. One in every eight women will hear those same words. We are all here to support each other. You, too, will come out on the other side, and it will be OK.
Breathe.
Remember, your “making it through hard times” survival rate has been 100%. Go ahead and do what you need to do…scream, cry, laugh, pray, sing, punch that pillow…. (OK, you might want to use a foam pillow because feathers are really hard to clean up.) You are in control with this part.
Breathe.
Breathe again.
We have “been there, done that” and we will help you get through it, too. It will be OK. - TH
How I Stayed Sane
How I stayed sane while dealing with this vengeance called cancer and the ups and down that comes with it all! Here are some ideas of how I try to keep my head above water and break through the hopeless feelings:
You will be in survival mode. This Cancer diagnosis can cause a myriad of emotions and possibly a trauma response. Spiraling or overthinking does no good.
Ways to handle this:
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Call a friend. We need connection and a fresh, healthy, perspective with someone to listen without judgment.
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Sit with your feelings. Emotions will come up. Feel them, identify them and then let them go. Sit quietly, meditate, pray, read, and ponder. Daily mindfulness practices such as these can take you out of your head and into the moment.
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Sing! Out loud-in the shower, in your car, at the top of your lungs! Humming actually resets the vagus nerve to calm you down.
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Journal your thoughts. Get them out of you and onto the page!
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Get out in nature. Take a walk and notice something new each time you go. Be present in the moment, using your 5 senses. What are you smelling, what are you seeing, hearing, feeling? Pick a flower or touch a leaf, pet an animal.
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Practice gratitude: List 10 things you are grateful for.
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When you are feeling down or hopeless, list 10 things you are grateful for out loud. Once I was heading up the ski lift on a beautiful day and I was in a bad funk so I listed 10 things I was grateful for and by the time I was at the top, I was happy and delighted and grateful that I was skiing on a beautiful day.
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Box Breathing: Stop and breathe deeply (box breathing 4 Inhales, 4 holds and 4 exhales, do this 5-10 times) and then choose to put these thoughts in a container and say “Stay there!”
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I recently went to a wedding and was darned if I was going to let my circumstances ruin my weekend so I did this and I had the most peaceful and fun, stress-free weekend. This was a distraction to get my thoughts to focus on other (happy) things. Distractions are so good
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Control. Cancer teaches you very quickly, you are not in control of nearly as much as you think. You can only control what you can do, not others, not circumstances. Surrender. Control is fear. Not a fun thing to have around! Surrender to things you can’t control! Let them go! Use faith. When you surrender, you find the peace and hope. When things are out of control, remember there is a higher power that is bigger than you.
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Nervous system reset: When my nervous system goes haywire with physical effects: sweating, heart pounding, racing thoughts, I sit with myself, breathe in deeply and put my hand on my heart so you can feel it beating and say: I’m okay. I’m safe, I’m loved (Mel Robbins: High 5 your heart) - KT