Bezzy is powered by community. Come here for tips and insight from other members who understand breast cancer firsthand.

Care for your body, mind, and soul as you navigate everyday life with breast cancer.

Life with breast cancer doesn't end the day you ring the treatment bell.

From medication options to side effects of chemo, turn here for the practical support you need to help navigate breast cancer treatment.

Living with breast cancer can be hard. Hear relatable stories from people who get it.

Navigating relationships with breast cancer can be hard. Turn here for support with friendships, dating, parenting, and more.

Alex Whitaker Cheadle

Survivor’s guilt is a very real and difficult part of my breast cancer journey. Here are a few of my coping strategies.

When I was diagnosed with triple-positive breast cancer at 24 years old, I felt completely alone. I craved community and desperately searched social media for other young people like me who could share their experiences, triumphs, and struggles to help me feel less alone.

I eventually found that and so much more in my online community of survivors, but what I didn’t fully anticipate were the hard times that we would endure together. The thrivers that we’d lose, the recurrences, the lack of complete responses to treatment. At times, it has felt like with every bell ring, there was also a friend we had to mourn.

While I would never regret ingraining myself in the breast cancer community, survivor’s guilt is a very real and very difficult part of the journey. Survivorship, and life after cancer in general, isn’t something we’re prepared for in the oncology office. Add immense guilt on top of the anxiety and fear that many of us feel after treatment, and it can be nearly debilitating at times.

Here are a few coping tips that I’ve picked up throughout my “survivorship” journey over the past 4 years.

A mindfulness practice looks different for everyone. It’s taken me a few years to figure out what works best for me.

But one thing I have found is that no matter what your practice looks like, routine and consistency are key. I find mindfulness through movement, not only because it gives me a space to channel my focus and nervous energy, but also because 

 shows that physical activity may be a helpful tool to fight cancer recurrence.

My routine looks something like this: I meditate for at least 10 minutes every day, go on daily walks of at least 20 minutes, work out five times a week, and journal to let it all out when needed. Having this consistent, reliable routine helps me work past the anxiety and fear that stems from the unknown of survivorship.

It’s also my alone time to reflect on my friends who are no longer in remission or who have transitioned from their earthly lives. A lot of times, questions keep ringing in my mind like, “Why them? Why not me?” 

I give myself the space to work through these thoughts and feelings in whatever way suits me best at that moment during my daily mindfulness time. Sometimes this looks like writing down all of the people and the things that keep me going in my journal. Sometimes it means writing down my goals. Sometimes it means writing their names on a special page in my journal that I keep for my angels.

There’s no one answer but I encourage you to take the time to find a routine that works best in your lifestyle and stick with it. It has been the biggest game-changer for me in navigating survivorship.

navigating anxiety and fear of recurrence

. Through lots of soul searching and therapy with a psychiatrist who specializes in working with oncology patients, I have learned that my anxiety stems from the unknown. 

My cancer came without a family history, at a young age, and at a time in your life when most people feel indestructible. It was completely unpredictable! That unpredictability is something I’ve found many other survivors struggle with in their survivorship journey and is a fear that I confront daily.

No one is able to predict the future, and with cancer, there are many unknowns. But we can look to extensive research and speak with our care teams to make educated decisions about our health plan and give ourselves well-informed glimpses into our future. 

My oncologist dedicates a large chunk of our check-up appointments to share research, as he knows this is something that I find extremely beneficial to my mental health. He also always brings the latest studies and researched-backed evidence when presenting potential shifts in my care plan, like when we made the decision to end my combination treatment of Lupron and Letrozole at the 3-year mark instead of the originally planned 5-year treatment plan.

Press your care team to present studies and respected research to you. Having firm statistics that are relevant to your case and vetted by your own care team will help with the anxieties that tend to bubble up throughout survivorship.

I’ve had my fair share of dark moments where I find myself swirling in guilt and repeatedly asking myself, “Why me?” I may never know the answer to that, but something I do know is that I have been able to make a real, meaningful difference in the lives of many others that are in the same boat as myself, simply by sharing my story.

There is such immense power in storytelling in the breast cancer community that it’s hard to even comprehend. Nothing feels better than finding that one blog post or TikTok or Instagram caption that resonates with you and feels like the words were taken right out of your head.

I find my strength through community and by sharing my story publicly or in small groups. By doing so, I’m able to work through the roller coaster of emotions that is survivorship with people who understand exactly what I’m going through.

Lexia Frank/Stocksy United

Morishita S, et al. (2020). Effect of exercise on mortality and recurrence in patients with cancer: A systematic review and meta-analysis. 

How I Navigate Survivorship and Survivor’s Guilt

Pamela Appea

Letting go of how I thought recovery “should look” was key to finding my path to emotional and physical recovery after breast cancer, a mastectomy, and breast implant illness.

Five years ago, I received a diagnosis of 

 breast cancer. I was devastated and totally surprised by the diagnosis. No one in my family had ever had breast cancer, and I didn’t know what to expect. I cried a lot in those first few months, even though my outlook was good.

 and then get breast implants when I was in remission. Getting breast implants was one of the worst decisions I made. I developed 

, but for almost 5 years I didn’t know why I was sick.

Until recently, breast implant illness was not considered to be an official medical diagnosis, but more 

Breast implant illness is believed to be a chronic health concern in which your immune system is impacted by breast implants or the materials within them. More recent 

 have suggested that there may be a link between breast implants and certain autoimmune conditions. 

Symptoms of breast implant illness include pain around the implants, misshapen breasts, fatigue, breathing problems, headache, and more. These symptoms may also be caused by other autoimmune or connective tissue disorders like rheumatoid arthritis and systemic sclerosis.

A few months ago, I had my breast implants removed. My emotional and physical recovery has not happened instantaneously, but I’m in the healing process now. One maxim I’ve found to be particularly true about my experience dealing with a serious disease is: “It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

Here are nine things I learned over the past 5 years navigating both DCIS and breast implant illness.

Getting breast cancer isn’t fair, and it’s not your fault

Some people will blame themselves and say, “If I hadn’t done this or that, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten cancer.” In reality, you might never know the exact reason behind a breast cancer diagnosis. 

Maybe you had a clear genetic family history. Maybe the stress or injury from a previous 

 had an impact. Maybe it’s another reason or a combination of several reasons. Regardless of the cause, it’s not your fault.

In that first year, I felt sorry for myself a lot. I was only 39 years old at the time of diagnosis, and it felt like I was in a nightmare. At the same time, I felt incredibly guilty because I knew my DCIS was caught at an early stage. I had a good prognosis, and I knew so many others didn’t.

It was hard to find the support I needed from my friends. Often, I found that what I actually wanted was for a friend to just let me vent without offering solutions.

Emotional self-care, support, and, if necessary, professional mental health services are crucial both during and after breast cancer treatment. I had the mistaken belief I would be able to just quickly bounce back emotionally without actively working on it. Don’t do what I did. Prioritize your emotional and mental health.

You may want to consider online or in-person breast cancer support groups, as well as individual counseling. Larger cancer treatment centers often have resources like classes, programs, and groups for people living with breast cancer as well as for people in remission.  

It’s an emotional process when a person with breasts is told they must have any kind of chest surgery. Letting go of the idea of having perfect breasts, or having nipples at all, is a difficult change. Now, I can joke about how nipples are overrated — before, not so much.

Many people who go through mastectomies will have to adjust to a drastic and sometimes unwelcome physical change. Someone who has had a unilateral mastectomy, like me, must also adjust to visible asymmetry between the two breasts, where one breast might remain the same and the other side is flat or nearly flat. 

Following a double or unilateral mastectomy, some breast surgeons and plastic surgeon teams recommend scheduling a breast implant surgery or fat transfer surgery as quickly as possible. Other surgeons suggest leaving time to recover from the mastectomy first. My advice is not to try for surgical perfection as quickly as possible, and instead focus on healing, physically and emotionally.

After surgery, you may end up with scars or noticeable differences in how your breasts feel and look. All of these postsurgical changes can lead to an extended period of emotional adjustment. It’s OK to take your time making that adjustment.

Another consideration for people with mastectomy and lumpectomy medical histories is chronic pain. Long after the surgery, you may experience different forms of mild to severe discomfort. Some people experience both numbness and intermittent tingling sensations, known as phantom pain. 

Another medical condition known as lymphedema, which involves swelling of the arm and armpit tissue following the removal of or radiation damage to the lymph nodes, may also require regular long-term medical care. Ignoring physical changes could potentially backfire in the long run.

You will meet amazing people along the way

I was shocked after receiving my diagnosis, and my initial reaction was to go separate myself from the world and keep everything a secret. I realized that this wouldn’t do anything to help me or the people in my life. After a few weeks, I started to tell everyone, including people I had not spoken to in years. Connecting with these people I cared about helped me avoid feeling isolated.

I don’t regret sharing my diagnosis, but I did learn that sometimes you don’t get the warm or compassionate response you were hoping for. However, you will find out who your friends really are after a breast cancer diagnosis and make new friends, especially fellow “breasties.”

Join a support group, virtual or in person, if you are having a tough time. As the joke goes, it’s not a club that you may have wanted to join, but once you’re a member, you meet the most amazing people.

You may experience anxiety about reoccurrence

Most specialists work together with and closely monitor breast cancer survivors over a 5-year period. As part of this aftercare, working on mental and emotional health is essential. Some survivors may experience significant anxiety and stress over whether breast cancer will return at a more advanced stage, sometimes for years after the initial diagnosis.

In my case, my anxiety and stress levels become incredibly more pronounced when I see specialists during annual mammograms, sonograms, blood tests, and other regular procedures. Journaling helps soothe my anxiety and get back on track with my emotional recovery. 

Treatment may leave you physically and emotionally tired

Chronic fatigue is a mainstay for people who have experienced breast cancer, even after treatment has ended. In the early weeks and months of treatment, in the midst of chemotherapy or recovering from surgery, it can be hard for partners, caretakers, relatives, and friends to fully understand what you are going through.

People may question why you are not “back to normal” when your treatment is considered complete. Know that there is no timeline for recovery, and you will learn to operate at a new normal.

Cancer patients and survivors have better clinical outcomes if they engage in self-care, seek out support, and have access to mental health support. 

 on people with breast cancer, 38.2 percent were classified with depression, and 32.2 percent were classified with anxiety. A 

 found that group therapy led to a significant reduction in anxiety and depression in women with breast cancer, and the effects of this therapy remained for the following months. 

In addition to group therapy, teletherapy and individual counseling can help improve your mental health.

It’s important to speak up if something feels off 

It’s normal to have some days when you feel exhausted, but it’s important to take action when something doesn’t feel right. Persistent fatigue or unexplained symptoms could be linked to a separate, coexisting autoimmune issue or could be an indication of breast implant illness.

The Food and Drug Administration has also recently recognized breast implants as a potential cause of a rare type of cancer called 

breast implant-associated anaplastic large cell lymphoma (BIA-ALCL)

Going to a doctor for a full physical is necessary to rule out other conditions like thyroid issues, asthma, diabetes, and cardiovascular health concerns. 

These conditions are not always mutually exclusive, and preventive healthcare and testing are the only way to take care of yourself. Trust your body and remember that you are the only one who can tell when something feels off.

It’s important to remember that everyone’s experience with breast cancer is different — and that’s OK. It’s not productive to compare your journey to other people’s journeys.

Following treatment, some people may feel ready to jump right back into what life was like beforehand — hectic jobs, caring for family members, busy social lives. Some might be visiting the gym several times a week just a few months out from treatment. Others might take months before they feel physically able to grab a cup of coffee with a friend. Everybody is different. 

Recovery is hard enough without measuring your progress against the progress of others. It’s essential to prioritize what’s best for you. For me, letting go of how I thought recovery “should look” was key to finding my path to  emotional recovery after breast cancer.

Sophie Mayanne/Getty Images

Dr. Tiffany Taft is a licensed clinical psychologist specializing in the psychological and social effects of chronic medical illness. She is the founder of Oak Park Behavioral Medicine LLC, an independent private practice of psychologists, social workers, and counselors near Chicago. She previously worked as an associate professor and director of psychogastroenterology research at Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine.

Tiffany Taft, PsyD

Bellver-Pérez A, et al. (2019). Effectiveness of therapy group in women with localized breast cancer. 

Chiriac V-F, et al. (2018). Psychological stress and breast cancer incidence: A systematic review. 

Fakhari S, et al. (2018). Post-mastectomy phantom breast syndrome. 

Tervaert JWC, at al. (2017). Silicone breast implants and autoimmune rheumatic diseases: Myth or reality. 

Tsaras K, et al. (2018). Assessment of depression and anxiety in breast cancer patients: Prevalence and associated factors. 

Watad A, et al. (2018). Silicone breast implants and the risk of autoimmune/rheumatic disorders: A real-world analysis. 

Wee CE, et al. (2020). Understanding breast implant illness, before and after explantation. 

9 Lessons I Learned About Emotional Health After My DCIS and Breast Implant Illness Diagnoses

Anna Crollman is a style enthusiast, lifestyle blogger, and breast cancer thriver. She shares her story and a message of self-love and wellness through 

, inspiring women around the globe to thrive in the face of adversity with strength, self-confidence, and style.

Anna Crollman

Recovery and survivorship are complicated, but every day it gets easier.

After facing breast cancer in my 20s, I am grateful to be alive — but I’m also grieving the loved ones I’ve lost to this disease.

It’s impossible to understand why I survived when they didn’t, and the thought makes me feel angry, sad, and even embarrassed.

Survivor’s guilt can present itself in a variety of ways. Some people experience flashbacks and anxiety when reminded of someone they’ve lost. Others experience a constant feeling of guilt that seems to invade daily life.

For me, survivor’s guilt appears during major milestones when I remember the people who should be there next to me. Guilt resurfaces during particularly joyous moments, catching me off guard like a slap in the face.

How do we cope with guilt and embrace life after survival? I want to share six coping mechanisms that have helped me since my breast cancer diagnosis 6 years ago.

The more we suppress or ignore our emotions, the more control they have over us. Addressing your feelings directly can open the door to self-acceptance.

It’s OK to feel grief, fear, and sadness alongside guilt for surviving a shared traumatic experience. 

This can sometimes feel overwhelming. If you find yourself flooded with emotion, take a moment to pause and breathe.

Often, especially when processing trauma, it can feel safer to feel your difficult feelings in the presence of a licensed mental health professional.

Grief and guilt can often feel overwhelming, and it’s important to 

Speaking to a mental health professional has been essential for me while I 

. When I lose another loved one to cancer, I lean on my family and therapist for support. 

Finding a therapist who specializes in working with people living with cancer and those who have recovered from it can be especially helpful. Your treatment team or a local breast cancer advocacy organization can likely point you in the direction of a therapist who understands the intricacies of living with breast cancer.

In addition to seeking professional help, talking to other survivors who know what you’re going through can help. Support groups, like the Bezzy BC peer-support community, are a great place to connect with other people who can relate.

As a survivor, it’s easy to tell yourself a false narrative, like believing the person you lost wouldn’t want you to carry on without them.

I find it helpful to consider how I would feel if our roles were reversed. I would want them to find joy, fulfill their dreams, and remember me. Try to reframe your thoughts by imagining what you would want for them.

Mindfulness techniques, like meditation, can help ground your thinking in the present. When you notice feelings of guilt and grief, try a guided meditation or write in a journal.

I try to focus on self-compassion and acceptance during my mindfulness practice. It helps me cope with the self-judgement associated with survivor’s guilt.

While mindfulness has been a valuable tool in my own coping, it’s important to keep in mind that it’s a practice and doesn’t always work quickly. 

And it may not be for everyone. For example, one 

 of 1,232 regular meditators found that 25 percent had unpleasant meditation-related experiences, including increased anxiety, fear, and distorted emotions or thoughts.

After losing someone, it’s common to reflect on the past with a sense of regret. It’s easy to think, “If only I had called more; if only I had gone back; if only I had…”

In reality, we didn’t have control. We did our best — and that’s enough.

Write down your “if only” thoughts and reframe them as statements of what you 

 do. For example, turn “if only I had called more to check in” to “I am so glad I was present during the final days to show her my love.”

If you’re struggling with survivor’s guilt, it means you’re empathetic and kind. While you can’t change the past, you 

 repurpose your guilt into acts of kindness.

I feel fulfilled when I give back to the breast cancer community, and it helps me process life after the trauma of cancer.

Giving your time or expertise to a relevant organization can help you honor those you’ve lost while gaining a sense of direction in your life.

No matter when or how you experience survivor’s guilt, know that you’re not alone.

It’s completely natural to feel grief and guilt after a life threatening experience that not everyone survived. You’re not supposed to suddenly wake up overjoyed because 

Recovery and survivorship are complicated, but every day it gets easier. Give yourself time to process and heal.

When you’re ready, try these coping mechanisms for facing survivor’s guilt. Remember, your loved ones didn’t die 

Instead of punishing yourself, reframe guilt as a gift. You have the opportunity to do so much good with the life you have ahead of you.

I survived breast cancer, but many of my loved ones didn’t. Survivor’s guilt is complicated, but coping mechanisms can help.

Nadine Brandt/Stocksy United

Schlosser M, et al. (2019). Unpleasant meditation-related experiences in regular meditators: Prevalence, predictors, and conceptual considerations. 

6 Tips That Help Me Cope with Breast Cancer Survivor’s Guilt

Monica Haro

What, radiation, me?! I have to do THAT? Is pain involved?

This was the commentary in my head when my oncologist told me radiation would be part of my breast cancer treatment plan. Moreover, I’d be doing 28 sessions of deep inspiration breath hold radiation, which I had definitely never heard of.

In my role as community guide in the Bezzy BC community, we talk about 

Chemo teeth, sexual health, scanxiety, or poop problems, anyone? It’s a safe space! 

Community members commonly ask what to expect going through radiation (rads for short). And some have asked how my body is now, 5 years after treatment. Is there scarring? What about tattoo marks? Any lingering things?

My 6-year cancerversary from date of diagnosis is approaching, and I realize I can share my rads experience from beginning to the present. 

After finishing dose-dense AC-T chemo, I had several weeks to recover before starting rads.

The cancer had been on the left side of my chest, and I needed to be radiated in areas close to my heart. 

This is where the breath hold radiation comes in.

This type of rads is when the patient takes a deep breath and holds their breath while radiation is being delivered. Filling the lungs with air causes the heart to move away from the chest in order to protect it from radiation. 

That sounded scary to me — but not as scary as the information my oncologist gave me relevant to my chances of recurrence if I didn’t do radiation.

I was stage 3C invasive lobular carcinoma that spread to 14 lymph nodes. Like chemotherapy, radiation wasn’t an option — it was a 

So off I went to a planning appointment with my radiology technician team and dosimetrist. I’d never heard of a medical dosimetrist before that, but part of their job is to determine where exactly the radiation beams need to be delivered for treatment. (They are very, very smart.)

Planning consisted of removing my clothing above the waist and lying face up under the radiation machine, on a table layered with a plain white sheet, topped with a layer of a foam-like material. My body was positioned 

, lined up with lasers and the CT machine. 

The foam under me was custom molded to my shape to stabilize my body into an exact position.

I had my cancer-side arm over my head so my armpit — where cancerous nodes were found — could be treated, as well as to allow my chest area to be wide open. 

I was positioned centimeter-by-centimeter by the rad techs pulling the sheet under the foam holder just so. I had a clip to hold my nose closed, and a snorkel-like apparatus placed in my mouth. 

After I filled my lungs with air and pushed my breath to the snorkel, there was a stopper in it that would stop my breath from expelling, thus keeping my chest inflated. I had to be perfectly still. This process took about an hour and a half. 

Once positioning was dialed in, I was marked with a pen and taken to another room to get tattooed on my chest. These tattoos are very important and would be used to align my body under the radiation machine correctly each day. 

I was tattooed old school “stick and poke” style! A sterile needle was dipped in black ink, and then I was poked in three places on my chest. It was quick and painless. 

Over the next 28 days, I was radiated at the cancer center.

I was issued a key fob to check into a group dressing/waiting room each morning, where I’d find the neatly-printed label in sans serif font that spelled out my name on a locker. The medical gown I changed into was kept there, and I could lock up my belongings, too. 

Next, I’d wait in a sitting area adjacent to the “radiation chamber,” as I called it, which was a room made of thick concrete walls where the radiation machine lived. 

Once inside, I removed my gown and lay on the table in my custom foam body holder with the sheet under it. The technicians would tug the sheet this way and that until my tattoos were lined up with lasers in the correct position. 

Then, they’d leave the room and the dosimetrist would speak to me over an intercom and instruct me when to breath and hold my breath a few times while I was beamed in my armpit, chest, and a cluster of lymph nodes by my clavicle. 

I didn’t fry like bacon on the table as my imagination had me believe I would. The actual delivery of radiation took less than 15 minutes. A few times, it took the technician longer to position me correctly than the actual treatment.

The technicians called the radiation machine Wilson. Each day I entered Wilson’s chamber I’d ask him “wassup?,” thank him for his service, or chide him if he was giving the techs problems.

Anthropomorphizing the machine and bantering with the techs about Wilson brought levity to my heavy reality. 

I worked through radiation, and by week 3 I was exhausted. I left work early a few times to nap. 

My skin was holding up fine and I was applying a thin layer of plain white lotion on my radiation spots. Honestly, I wasn’t consistent with lotion and skipped days.

One of my chemo nurses told me the easiest thing I could have control over throughout active treatment was to stay well hydrated. I did, and I believe that helped my skin — or at least I thought it did.

My skin slowly burned as the weeks passed. By the last week, it was like a bad sunburn. 

The space where my armpit and side of my chest meet was irritated from the rubbing of my normal arm movements. The area was hot, and cold packs felt nice by day’s end. 

Then, just like that, radiation was over!

My radiologist had told me radiation has a cumulative effect at the cellular level over time, and radiation kept doing its thing in the weeks after active treatment. 

My skin became more bothered the first week after rads ended. I spent a couple of days in bed, shirtless, letting my skin breath and avoiding irritation of clothing. 

I slept a lot. I was exhausted and hurting. I took pain medication.

I also used silver sulfadiazine medicated cream prescribed to me. It soothed and healed my burned skin fast. 

Then, the peeling of the skin began — and was over as quickly as it started.

As the months passed that first year following radiation, I used various oils (I liked rosehip and argan oil) to keep my skin supple and to hopefully reduce scarring.

My chest was shrunken and very tight on the outside, and things felt tight inside too. My armpit and clavicle seemed fine.

I had a prominent “tan line” on my chest that wrapped around my side, and a big red spot on my clavicle.

Things in my chest felt weird inside, like a tight pulling sensation. My breast implant on my rads side began to push up toward my clavicle and armpit.

Bezzy BC community members commonly ask what to expect going through radiation. This is my experience.

591331-What I Can Tell You about Radiation from Active Treatment to 5 Years Later_Header

Yamini Ranchod, Ph.D., M.S.

Bergom C, et al. (2018). Deep inspiration breath hold: Techniques and advantages for cardiac sparing during breast cancer irradiation. DOI: 

What I Can Tell You About Radiation from Active Treatment to 5 Years Later

Theodora Blanchfield

Even if your person appears strong on the outside, understand that their mind and body are still recovering from a trauma.

If you’ve ever lost a loved one, you may remember what it felt like immediately after your loss: friends checking in on you, bringing you food, and generally showing up for you. But as weeks fade into months and months into years, those check ins drop off — or disappear altogether. 

This feeling is all too familiar to some breast cancer survivors who may suddenly feel alone as they struggle to adjust to their new normal.

Do you want to be there for your friend but have no idea where to start? We talked to mental health experts who work with cancer survivors to get the scoop on how you can continue to show up.

“Loved ones should understand that a great deal of loss has occurred for the survivor,” says 

, PhD, CFT, a psycho-oncologist and breast cancer survivor. 

This includes loss of safety in their body, loss of safety in the world, and sometimes, the loss of physical body parts, or the loss of prior functioning, she explains.

With that loss comes relearning how to relate in the world.

Even if your person appears strong on the outside, “understand that their mind and body are still recovering from a trauma,” says Gabriela Gutierrez, LMFT, clinical oncology therapist at 

The physical loss associated with breast cancer can lead to a kind of identity rebuilding, she says.

“Women are learning how to still see themselves as women even after their breasts have been altered or removed all together,” Gutierrez says.

You may be wondering why your friend isn’t being more celebratory. After all, they just got a clean bill of health and survived cancer. 

 of breast cancer survivors worry their cancer will come back.

 is a very common phenomenon that patients face as their bodies learn how to adjust back into the ‘normal world’ and as their bodies process the physical and emotional trauma they just endured,” says Gutierrez.

It may be tempting to want to jump in and try to “fix” things or to try to take the burden off of them, but now is the time for your loved one to tell you what they need. 

Because their process was so emotionally grueling, there are all kinds of things that may be innocuous to you but a trigger to them, such as a food they couldn’t eat while they were sick. 

“Careful listening will demonstrate the desire to help the survivor feel connected to and understood,” says Exelbert. “Knowing that someone 

Mental health experts who work with cancer survivors share how you can show up for your friend after cancer.

Life in Remission