Living With Stage 4 Breast Cancer
I’m Dana. I’m living with stage 4 breast cancer and sharing my story, updates, and how people can support me as I navigate treatment and daily life.
Mission Possible: You Are the True Heroes
One year ago, I started a fundraiser for dental reconstruction after cancer treatment. Many of you donated, shared, and encouraged me, and I'll always be grateful.
Unfortunately, life had other plans. Some of those funds ended up covering basic living expenses after financial support I had been counting on unexpectedly disappeared.
Since then, I've continued treatment, continued working, and continued trying to move forward one step at a time. The dental work still hasn't happened. The past year didn't unfold the way I expected, and progress has been slower than I hoped, but the need is still there and so is the goal. Now I'm trying to get back to the reason I started this fundraiser in the first place.
A year later, I'm still trying to get there.
I'm currently back in treatment for metastatic breast cancer. The past year has brought new treatment decisions and new challenges as the cancer continues to progress. Along with the emotional toll, there are ongoing expenses, scans, medications, deductibles, and the everyday realities that come with living with cancer.
This fundraiser was never just about dental reconstruction. It's about continuing treatment, maintaining quality of life, and having the resources to focus on healing instead of constantly worrying about what crisis might be around the next corner. The dental work remains one of the biggest unfinished pieces of this journey, and completing it is still very much the goal.
If you've donated, shared my fundraiser, prayed for me, encouraged me, hired me, purchased something I've made, or simply followed along over the years, thank you. Your kindness has carried me through some incredibly difficult seasons and reminded me time and time again that I am not doing this alone.
That's why this fundraiser is called Mission Possible. Not because any of this is easy, but because things that seem impossible become possible when people come together.
You are the true heroes of this story.
From My Journal
This is where I share stories, reflections, lessons, and the occasional hard-earned laugh from life, faith, cancer, and everything in between.
My latest entry is My Name Is Cancer, a story told entirely from Cancer's perspective.
Read the latest journal entry below.
My Name Is Cancer
My name is Cancer, and before everyone starts blaming me for everything, I'd like the record to show that I didn't exactly barge into Dana's life unannounced.
There were clues.
For nearly a year, she had this nagging pain between her shoulder blade and spine on the same side where I would eventually be found. She got massages every week trying to fix it, which was almost adorable considering she was a massage therapist and naturally assumed it was work-related. Tight muscles, repetitive strain, bad posture, pick your favorite explanation.
Then, about six months before anyone figured out I was there, she started playing tennis again after years away. She'd finish a practice or lesson and need two- and three-hour naps in the middle of the day. She was exhausted all the time, but she had perfectly reasonable explanations for that too. She was 44. Her hormones were changing. She thought it was menopause. So she did what a lot of women do when something feels off. She started trying to fix it. She researched. She adjusted things. She took supplements. She tried to get her hormones balanced. She paid attention to her body and kept looking for answers.
Then, about six months before anyone figured out I was there, she started playing tennis again after years away. She'd finish a practice or lesson and need two- and three-hour naps in the middle of the day. She was exhausted all the time, but she had perfectly reasonable explanations for that too. She was 44. Her hormones were changing. She thought it was menopause. So she did what a lot of women do when something feels off. She started trying to fix it. She researched. She adjusted things. She took supplements. She tried to get her hormones balanced. She paid attention to her body and kept looking for answers.
The problem was, every explanation made just enough sense to keep her looking in the wrong direction.
Honestly, that worked out pretty well for me.
Now, before anyone starts thinking Dana was ignoring her health, let me stop you right there. She was active. She ate well. She paid attention to her body. She noticed changes. She asked questions. She believed food mattered. Stress mattered. Sleep mattered. Movement mattered. She was always trying to understand what her body was telling her.
Unfortunately for her, I had managed to convince everyone that the message was something else.
Hormones seemed reasonable.
Stress seemed reasonable.
Work-related pain seemed reasonable.
By the time anyone thought to suspect me, I'd been sitting there for quite a while enjoying the show.
At some point, what started as an uninvited visit turned into a long-term arrangement that nobody agreed to.
The Uninvited Guest
I unpacked.
I took over entire rooms.
I invited my friends Anxiety, Fear, and Scanxiety to stop by whenever they wanted. They became regulars.
Dana objected, of course, but by then I was deeply committed to being a problem.
I rearranged her calendar around appointments. I introduced her to words she never wanted to learn and bills she never wanted to pay. I made complete strangers ask wildly inappropriate questions and convinced perfectly intelligent people to offer advice they found on the internet five minutes earlier.
If I'm being completely honest, I was a terrible guest.
Looking back, I probably should have left when I was first asked.
Most reasonable guests would have taken the hint.
Not me.
I settled in, made myself comfortable, and proceeded to turn Dana's life into a full-time group project she never volunteered for.
There were surgeries. Treatments. Scans. More scans. Waiting for scan results. Recovering from treatments designed to keep me from being there. New plans. Changed plans. Cancelled plans. The kind of plans that get made when everyone suddenly realizes tomorrow is not guaranteed.
At one point, I stopped being a guest and became a recurring character.
The annoying kind that keeps showing up season after season when the audience is clearly ready for them to be written out of the script.
And just when things would start feeling normal again, I'd come crashing back into the story like my personal theme song was I Came in Like a Wrecking Ball.
Subtlety has never really been my thing.
The Problem With Dana
What I didn't anticipate was how much effort Dana was willing to put into getting rid of me.
Honestly, it started to feel a little personal.
She traveled to Houston. She sought treatment at MD Anderson. She enrolled in a clinical trial. She spent years showing up for appointments, scans, treatments, bloodwork, and conversations nobody wants to have. Every time I thought she might be exhausted enough to stop fighting, she'd show up with another plan.
And then there was her support system.
Very annoying.
People loved her. People checked on her. People prayed for her, donated to her, drove her places, sat with her, cried with her, laughed with her, and reminded her she was not doing this alone.
Do you have any idea how irritating that is when you're trying to isolate someone?
Honestly, between Dana's stubbornness and the people who refused to let her disappear, this whole thing became much more difficult than I had planned.
The God Problem
And then there was the God problem.
I really hadn't accounted for that.
Now, don't get me wrong. Dana asked plenty of hard questions. There were days she was angry, days she was scared, days she couldn't understand why any of this was happening. From my perspective, those were excellent days.
The problem was that she kept talking to God anyway.
Not always gracefully. Not always confidently. Sometimes the conversations sounded more like arguments than prayers.
But she kept showing up.
And then other people got involved.
Churches prayed. Friends prayed. Complete strangers prayed. People she'd never met were somehow talking to God about her, which felt wildly unfair.
Even the cats were a problem.
I had not accounted for four tiny household witnesses who continued expecting food, attention, and emotional availability regardless of scans, treatments, or existential crisis. They did not care that I was trying to be the main event. They still needed Dana. They still curled up near her. They still acted like life was supposed to continue, which was honestly very off-brand for what I was trying to accomplish.
Honestly, I preferred the scans. At least the scans made sense.
The Memo That Never Arrived
What really threw me off, though, was that Dana never seemed to get the memo.
Most people assume that after enough bad news, enough setbacks, enough uncertainty, a person eventually stops making plans.
Dana kept making them anyway.
Sometimes the plans were small. Make it through the week. Finish a project. Go to lunch with a friend. Other times the plans were bigger. Travel. Start something new. Build something. Find another treatment option. Try to resume life after remission by getting two Sealyhams, Charlotte and Bixby, like she was allowed to have a normal chapter again.
It was incredibly disrespectful to my goals.
I kept showing up expecting to be the main character, and she kept treating me like an inconvenience.
A very expensive inconvenience, admittedly, but still an inconvenience.
The truth is, I wanted her world to get smaller.
That's what I do.
I wanted every conversation to be about me. Every decision to revolve around me. Every plan to include an asterisk and a disclaimer.
Instead, she kept insisting on having a life.
Rude.
There were certainly days when I got the upper hand. Days when she was scared. Days when she was exhausted. Days when the future felt impossible to see.
They happened a lot. But so did the next day.
And that became a problem for me.
Because every morning I woke up expecting Dana to be finished arguing with reality.
And every morning she woke up and argued some more.
The Money Situation
There was also the money situation, which I personally thought was one of my stronger contributions. Treatment costs money. Traveling for treatment costs money. Scans cost money. Medications cost money. Being too tired or too sick to work the way you used to also costs money, which feels like a design flaw, but nobody asked me. Every time Dana managed to catch her breath, I found a way to hand her another expense, another bill, another reason to wonder how she was supposed to keep doing this.
What annoyed me was that she kept trying anyway. She worked when she could. She made things. She built websites. She found ways to create income even when her body was making that extremely inconvenient. At one point, I became convinced that if the apocalypse happened, Dana would spend fifteen minutes being upset and then immediately start organizing a spreadsheet.
It was impossible to work under those conditions.
And then, when I thought I had finally cornered her, people helped. They donated. They shared her fundraiser. They bought from her. They sent encouragement, prayers, and sometimes actual money, which felt deeply unsportsmanlike.
The Part I Never Planned For
There was one more thing I hadn't planned on.
Gratitude.
Not the inspirational quote kind. The real kind.
The kind that shows up after you've had a terrible day and somebody sends a text at exactly the right moment. The kind that comes from a good conversation, a kind gesture, a stable scan, a funny story, a shared meal, or simply making it through a day that wasn't promised to begin with.
I kept waiting for Dana to become completely consumed by me. It seemed reasonable. I had certainly given her enough material.
Instead, she kept noticing things that had nothing to do with me.
Honestly, I found that a little offensive.
After everything I'd done to become the center of attention, she'd still stop to appreciate the people who showed up, the moments that mattered, and the small victories most people overlook.
It was becoming increasingly clear that we had very different priorities.
I was focused on disruption. Dana was focused on meaning.
I wanted her to measure life by test results, treatment dates, and worst-case scenarios. She kept measuring it by who showed up, what still mattered, and what she could still love even after everything got complicated.
Frankly, I found this very inconvenient.
Gratitude was not supposed to survive in the environment I created, but there it was anyway, showing up in the middle of fear, exhaustion, bills, appointments, and uncertainty like it had no respect for the tone I was trying to set.
At some point, I had to accept a difficult truth.
After all the effort I'd put into this relationship, I was never going to become who Dana was.
I could influence decisions. I could interrupt plans. I could create fear, uncertainty, inconvenience, and enough paperwork to qualify as a part-time job.
But I never became her identity.
Trust me, I tried.
I wanted every conversation to start with me and end with me. I wanted every dream, every plan, every relationship, and every future possibility to have my name stamped across it.
Instead, I became one part of a much larger story.
Not my favorite outcome, if I'm being honest.
Still Not the Main Character
So here we are.
Years later, I'm still hanging around, still trying to make myself relevant, and Dana is still doing what she's always done. She asks hard questions. She makes plans. She worries. She laughs. She argues with God. She loves her people. She misses Charlotte and Bixby. She spoils her cats. She starts projects that probably could have waited until next week and then wonders why she's tired.
Honestly, I don't understand her.
After everything I've thrown at her, she still wakes up every morning assuming her life belongs to her.
The nerve.
Update – September 2025
Dear Friends, Family, and Supporters,
After prayer, many hard conversations, and time to weigh the risks, I’ve made the decision to move forward with proton radiation for a brain tumor caused by triple negative breast cancer. Because of the tumor’s size and location, I qualify for a treatment that isn’t normally offered for this type of cancer.
Radiation will begin soon and last about two weeks. Once that finishes, I’ll be cleared to move forward with urgent dental surgery. Years of chemotherapy have left me in constant pain, with broken teeth and chronic infections. This surgery is critical to reduce chronic inflammation, support my immune system, and restore my ability to eat.
You’ve already helped me feel carried through something I could never face alone, and I’m deeply grateful. If you’ve donated, shared, prayed, or simply sent love…thank you. Your support has helped me feel seen and cared for in ways I didn’t know I needed. And if you’re just now finding this, I’m so grateful you’re here.
Please keep sharing, keep asking questions, and know that every bit of support matters.
With love and hope,
Dana ❤️
Update – October 2025
Dear Friends, Family, and Supporters,
I started proton therapy on Monday, and by Tuesday, things took a turn. Out of nowhere came a brutal headache and nonstop vomiting. The kind that makes you rethink everything. An MRI on Wednesday showed swelling on my brain, so they’ve upped my steroids and kept a close watch.
The good news is I’ll be back to treatment tomorrow. They didn’t want me off too long, and I didn’t want that either. The headaches are still hanging around, but I’m resting and working on some templates I’ll be launching soon.
Thank you for checking in, praying, donating, or just thinking of me. Even when I’m quiet, it helps more than you know.
With love,
Dana ❤️
#onedaymyheadwonthurt 🤕
Update – December 2025
Dear Friends, Family, and Supporters,
I’ve started receiving results from my most recent round of scans. One of the scans shows a partial response, meaning the lesion has shrunk. That news matters, and I’m grateful for it.
I’m still waiting on results from the remaining scans, including imaging that will help determine what comes next. Until everything is back and reviewed with my care team, I don’t yet have a complete picture. This part is familiar by now. Encouraged by one piece of information and careful not to draw conclusions before all the data is in.
These scan cycles carry a lot of weight. They affect treatment decisions, timing, and whether I will be cleared to move forward with the major dental surgery I have been waiting on. Living with constant pain has been exhausting, and the possibility of relief is something I hold with both hope and patience.
For now, I am taking things one step at a time. I am continuing treatment, listening closely to my body, and staying grounded while I wait for the rest of the results. Once everything is in and I have clarity on next steps, I will share another update.
Thank you to everyone who continues to check in, pray, and support me as I wait for the rest of the results.
With love,
Dana ❤️
Update - April 2026
Dear Friends, Family, and Supporters,
After two long, anxiously awaited weeks, my three-month scan and test results are in. The news wasn't what I was hoping for but it wasn't a surprise that this fight isn't over. It just means we keep going. And I will.
I'm sad. I won't pretend otherwise. But I'm not defeated. Right now, honestly, my biggest focus is getting over my third cold in less than two months, because my body needs to catch a break before anything else. Next steps for treatment are still being weighed. Those who know me know I don't just follow orders. I ask questions, I look at alternatives, and I make decisions I can stand behind. That process takes time, and I'm giving it the time it deserves.
I'm asking for prayer for me, yes, but also for the friends I have who are walking their own cancer roads right now, and for those on the other side of treatment trying to figure out what life looks like now. Because it doesn't just go back to normal. You build a new one, and that work is real and it's hard, and those people deserve to be held up too.
Thank you for continuing to show up, check in, donate, share, and pray. Every bit of it matters more than I can say.
With love,
Dana ❤️
Not everyone can give, but everyone can help.
Share this fundraiser with your friends and family
Spread the word on social media so it reaches more people
Hire (or refer me) for a design project through Far Woe Design Co.
How to Help a Friend With Cancer
One of the hardest questions people ask is, “What can I do for someone with cancer?” Whether it’s a close friend, family member, or coworker, it can be tough to know what actually helps. I’ve pulled together books, products, and thoughtful items that made a difference for me and might for someone you love too.
Note: I may earn a small commission from purchases, at no extra cost to you.
Practical
Gift Ideas
Books
These are the books I leaned on the most. Some for hope, some for recipes, and some for understanding what I was up against.
Hats & Scarves
When my hair started falling out, these were the things that helped me feel comfortable stepping out of the house.
For Juicing & Smoothies
I couldn’t always eat solid food, but I could drink smoothies. These tools made it easier to get nutrition in when I needed it most.
Supplements
These are supplements that gave me an extra layer of support along the way. Of course, always check with your doctor first.
𓍲 Multi-vitamin
𓍲 Vitamin D3
𓍲 Vitamin C
𓍲 Fish Oil
𓍲 Turkeytail Mushrooms
𓍲 Apricot Kernals
𓍲 Essiac Tea
𓍲 Coconut Cult
During Chemo
Chemo is rough. These little comforts made the long hours in the chair and the days after a little more bearable.
𓍲 Blankets
𓍲 Socks
𓍲 Lotion
𓍲 Cold Gloves / Booties
𓍲 Tummypops for Stomach
𓍲 Tummydrops for Stomach
After Surgeries
Recovering from surgery is no joke. These items made it easier to rest, move around, and heal.
𓍲 Sterile Abdominal Pad
𓍲 Post Surgery Abdominal Binder
𓍲 Lymphedema Arm Sleeve
𓍲 Scar Treatment and Prevention for Surgical
Other
Not everything fits in a neat category, but these things helped me in ways I didn’t expect.
Shirts That Give Back
I designed these shirts as a way to encourage, uplift, and give back. They make thoughtful gifts, and proceeds help fund my care too.
More coming soon!
• 50% cotton, 50% polyester
• Pre-shrunk
• Classic fit
• 1x1 athletic rib knit collar with spandex
• Air-jet spun yarn with a soft feel
• Double-needle stitched collar, shoulders, armholes, cuffs, and hem
This product is made especially for you as soon as you place an order, which is why it takes us a bit longer to deliver it to you. Making products on demand instead of in bulk helps reduce overproduction, so thank you for making thoughtful purchasing decisions!
• 50% cotton, 50% polyester
• Pre-shrunk
• Classic fit
• 1x1 athletic rib knit collar with spandex
• Air-jet spun yarn with a soft feel
• Double-needle stitched collar, shoulders, armholes, cuffs, and hem
This product is made especially for you as soon as you place an order, which is why it takes us a bit longer to deliver it to you. Making products on demand instead of in bulk helps reduce overproduction, so thank you for making thoughtful purchasing decisions!
• 50% cotton, 50% polyester
• Pre-shrunk
• Classic fit
• 1x1 athletic rib knit collar with spandex
• Air-jet spun yarn with a soft feel
• Double-needle stitched collar, shoulders, armholes, cuffs, and hem
This product is made especially for you as soon as you place an order, which is why it takes us a bit longer to deliver it to you. Making products on demand instead of in bulk helps reduce overproduction, so thank you for making thoughtful purchasing decisions!
Please Pray For My Brave Friends Fighting For Their Lives
Millie Winiston
Lauren Inman
Sheila Miller
Sebastian De Giorgio
In Loving Memory Of
Ashley Davis
Ashley’s story is one of courage, faith, and love. She faced breast cancer with a strength that inspired everyone who knew her, and she never wavered in sharing her trust in God.
Ashley was the kind of friend who made you feel braver just by being around her. She loved her family deeply and spoke of them often with joy and pride. Her light and her faith touched so many lives, mine included.
Though she is no longer here, the way she lived continues to shine in the love she gave, the hope she carried, and the strength she shared with others.
When someone dies of cancer, they are not a loser of a battle…they are a warrior who carried more than most people could ever imagine.
Together, We Dream Big
Cancer Fundraisers You Can Support
Healing is rarely a solo journey. I’m currently raising funds for my own dental and medical needs, and I’m also sharing my friend Lauren’s fundraiser HERE. If you’re able to give, share, or pray, know that your support makes a real difference for each of us.
Where your gift helps:
Treatment and recovery costs not covered by insurance
Dental surgery related to treatment
Travel and daily living during care
To Give to Fundraiser:
To Give Directly:
“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord… plans to give you hope and a future.” – Jeremiah 29:11