When dealing with any health issue, it is critical to advocate for yourself.
In my experience with Stage 2 breast cancer, the majority of people I’ve encountered—from the front desk staff to the physicians at my medical center—have been warm, compassionate, knowledgeable, and deeply empathetic. That said, every system has its bad apples. Occasionally, you will encounter professionals who simply don’t meet those standards. In those moments, it’s essential to know what you need, to know when to say “no,” and to take action by clearly communicating your expectations to your medical team.
My current care team is incredible. I truly love them all. My surgeon is exceptional, my plastic surgeon is phenomenal, and the nurses are attentive, compassionate, and thorough. My reconstruction is still settling and will take about a year to fully heal, but my scarring is minimal and even my chemo port is barely noticeable. Most importantly, my oncologist is on top of everything. She actively manages my chemotherapy side effects, listens when I need to vent, and understands how cancer impacts every aspect of daily life. She is present, responsive, and supportive in every way.
That was not always my experience.
Before finding my current oncologist, I worked with one who left me feeling confused, devastated and unheard. During appointments, she wouldn’t sit down and explain things in simple terms. Instead, she would read paperwork to me word for word—documents I already had—without offering context or explanation. I often left her office knowing less about my cancer than when I walked in. In fact, I didn’t even know the stage or grade of my cancer until I met my new oncologist. That is completely unacceptable!
The final straw was how my chemotherapy options were presented. When patients are sick—especially when they are fighting cancer—bedside manner and empathy are not optional. Words matter. When discussing treatment options, the focus should be on survival rate, not fear. There is a significant difference between saying, “This treatment gives you a 70% survival rate,” versus “You have a 30% chance of dying.” While mathematically similar, emotionally they are worlds apart.
If you’ve never had cancer, this may seem like a small distinction. But when you are already fighting for your life, communication matters. The words we hear should communicate hope and clarity—not fear.
For me, that was enough to say, “No more,” and request a new oncologist. If your doctors don’t make you feel informed, supported, and comfortable, you have the right to speak up and ask for a different provider or care team member.
Educate yourself. Write down symptoms, questions, and concerns before appointments. The cancer experience can be overwhelming, and it’s easy to forget details in the moment. Consider bringing a trusted friend or family member to take notes and provide support. Ask your doctors to simplify explanations when needed. Ask questions about tests, scans, medications, supplements, and upcoming procedures. This is your life—and there are never too many questions to ask.
If something doesn’t feel right, you have every right to ask for a second opinion. Know your type of cancer, your stage, and your grade.
Ask for help. This journey is long and difficult, and no one should have to walk it alone. Cancer takes an emotional toll, and support groups or therapy can be invaluable parts of your care.
One thing I notice often at the cancer center is how many seniors attend appointments alone. I know it’s not always possible to be there, but if you can, please check in on them. See if they need help, support, or someone to advocate on their behalf when they cannot.
Advocating for yourself does not mean being confrontational or aggressive. It means finding a medical team that aligns with your emotional and physical needs—one that gives you the best possible chance to navigate this journey with confidence, dignity, and hope.
We are strong! We are Warriors!
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