This year marks six years since my cancer journey began—a journey that not only tested my physical and mental limits but also marked the end of my marriage and launched me into an entirely new career path.
I was fortunate to detect my breast cancer early—Stage 1. But surgery revealed a second hidden tumor beneath the lump I had found. Early detection saved my life, yet it also upended it in ways I never anticipated—both good and bad.
The shock of my diagnosis hit like a slap in the face. With no family history of cancer and being in relatively good health, it felt incomprehensible. Yet, the urgency of treatment meant there was no time to dwell. I had to move forward, fast. Those early days are a blur—doctors, scans, decisions, and a whirlwind of emotions.
At the same time, I was also wrapping up a 16-year marriage. To be fair, my ex-husband supported me through my diagnosis, but he had also been the source of immense strife and emotional turmoil. Cancer gave me clarity. If I could survive this, I could survive without the weight of a toxic relationship. We often hear of men leaving their wives during a health crisis, but in my case, I was the one who walked away. I wanted a fresh start, a chance to heal—not just from cancer, but from everything that had drained me for years. Cancer gave me the impetus to do that.
That healing extended beyond my personal life. I had built a successful, fulfilling career in breakfast radio, but the relentless 3 a.m. wakeups, constant travel, and the toll of always being “on” had left me exhausted. Even during treatment, I was showing up at the studio at 5 a.m., squeezing in 15 rounds of radiotherapy in the afternoons. Most people would take time off; I didn’t have that luxury.
After more than two decades on air—and a harrowing near-death experience from sepsis post-surgery—I finally stepped away in December 2019 to rest. And then, as if on cue, the world shut down. The pandemic forced everyone to pause, and for the first time in my life, I had no choice but to do the same.
That break was a gift. It allowed me to recalibrate, reassess, and pivot my career in a way that aligned with my skills, education, and desire for more meaningful work. I remain in the broadcasting industry but with greater creative freedom, room for growth, and the ability to make a real social impact. While I still get messages begging me to return to breakfast radio, I have no regrets.
Today, I am in remission, still on hormone-suppressing medication, and managing its side effects—a topic I’ll delve into in a future column. While I am mentally in a much better place, there was a time when I couldn’t see a way forward. I questioned whether enduring all this suffering was worth it. But with therapy and the unwavering support of family and close friends, I now look back in disbelief at those dark thoughts.
Surviving cancer has given me a profound awareness of my own mortality. Losing my mother to lung cancer three years ago was devastating, and grief remains an ever-present undercurrent in my life. Cancer matters to me because I have lived its impact firsthand. As a public figure and cancer advocate, I am dedicated to promoting early detection, self-examinations, and accessible care, ensuring no one faces this journey alone. By sharing knowledge, sparking conversations, and supporting those in need, I strive to make a meaningful impact in the fight against cancer. Together, we can empower lives, foster healing, and bring hope to those navigating this difficult path.
