---

I’ve had enough of cancer, y’all. Flat-out enough. Breast cancer, especially, has stomped all over too many of my friends and a few of my family over the years. And working so closely with Trisha? Whew. It changed everything I thought I knew. Because it’s not just the physical toll—though that is brutal enough—it’s the mental side that doesn’t always get talked about.

This disease? It’s a thief. It takes your peace, your plans, and for a while there, it’ll try to take your power. It’s not just a “let’s remove the lump and move on” kind of deal. Sometimes it’s that. But most times? It’s appointments, and meds, and surgery… and then another surgery… and another. Oh wait! One more for good measure.

And let’s talk about that port in your chest. And the drain tubes with the little bulbs hanging down like some twisted DIY project. I mean… should we bedazzle them? Put ‘em on Etsy? “Limited edition dangly drains—one for each round of chemo!”

You won’t see most of this on social media. And Hallmark sure as hell isn’t showing you the midnight meltdowns, the gut-punch anxiety, or what it feels like to look in the mirror at a body you barely recognize anymore.

And don’t even get me started on the fact that it’s 2025 and we can bring back dire wolves—yes, literal Ice Age wolves—but still no cure for cancer? I’m not saying I’m the smartest gal in the room, but somebody explain that to me. Please.

To every single woman fighting, surviving, and picking herself back up day after day—you are more than a warrior. You are a walking miracle. And I see you. I really see you.

With love and madddd respect!

XOXO, Jani