Sunday, June 28, 2026

Psychological Survivorship After Cancer Therapy

Understanding Mental Health Recovery Following Heavy Treatments

Jessica Connell, LCSW & Barbara Bartlik, MD

The completion of chemotherapy or radiation therapy has traditionally been regarded as the conclusion of active cancer treatment. From a clinical perspective, however, the termination of oncologic intervention frequently represents the beginning of a second phase of care known as survivorship. While contemporary oncology has made remarkable advances in improving disease-free survival and overall longevity, increasing attention has been directed toward the long-term psychological and neurocognitive consequences experienced by survivors. Mental health recovery has emerged as a critical component of comprehensive survivorship, requiring structured evaluation and interdisciplinary support comparable to physical rehabilitation.

Cancer is not solely a biological disease. It constitutes a prolonged psychological stressor that challenges nearly every dimension of an individual's functioning, including cognition, emotional regulation, interpersonal relationships, occupational performance, self-image, and existential perspective. Throughout treatment, patients frequently develop adaptive coping mechanisms focused upon immediate survival. Once treatment concludes, however, these protective mechanisms often give way to unresolved psychological distress that becomes increasingly apparent as individuals attempt to resume pre-diagnosis roles and responsibilities.

The prevalence of mental health concerns among cancer survivors is substantial. Anxiety disorders remain among the most commonly reported complications, often characterized by persistent fear of recurrence, heightened vigilance toward normal bodily sensations, anticipatory distress surrounding surveillance imaging, and uncertainty regarding future health. Depressive symptoms may emerge concurrently, presenting as diminished motivation, impaired concentration, emotional withdrawal, loss of pleasure, fatigue disproportionate to physical recovery, and alterations in sleep architecture. While these symptoms vary considerably among individuals, they collectively illustrate that survivorship extends beyond remission to encompass long-term psychological adaptation.

An additional dimension of post-treatment recovery involves neurocognitive dysfunction commonly referred to as cancer-related cognitive impairment or "chemotherapy-associated cognitive dysfunction." Although colloquially described as "chemo brain," the phenomenon encompasses a broader constellation of impairments involving attention, executive functioning, processing speed, working memory, verbal recall, and multitasking ability. These changes may persist for months or, in some individuals, several years following treatment. Importantly, such cognitive disturbances are not solely attributable to chemotherapy itself but may also reflect cumulative effects of systemic inflammation, endocrine disruption, fatigue, emotional distress, sleep disturbances, concurrent medications, and the neurobiological consequences of chronic psychological stress.

These cognitive changes frequently produce secondary emotional consequences. Individuals who previously functioned at high professional or academic levels may experience frustration, embarrassment, diminished confidence, and concern regarding their ability to return to previous occupational responsibilities. Consequently, cognitive impairment often contributes indirectly to social isolation, vocational uncertainty, and reduced self-efficacy.

Cancer survivorship also requires substantial identity reconstruction. During treatment, patients commonly adopt the role of "cancer patient," with daily life organized around medical appointments, treatment schedules, diagnostic testing, and symptom management. Following completion of therapy, the abrupt withdrawal of this structured environment frequently creates psychological disequilibrium. Survivors often describe uncertainty regarding how to define themselves beyond illness, particularly when family members and colleagues assume that recovery is complete despite persistent emotional or cognitive difficulties. This discrepancy between external expectations and internal experience may further complicate psychological adjustment.

The restoration of mental health therefore requires deliberate intervention rather than passive observation. Contemporary survivorship models increasingly recognize psychological rehabilitation as an integral component of comprehensive cancer care. Early identification of anxiety, depression, adjustment disorders, trauma-related symptoms, sleep disorders, and cognitive dysfunction permits timely intervention before secondary complications develop.

Psychotherapeutic intervention represents one of the most effective strategies for facilitating psychological recovery. Individual psychotherapy provides survivors with a structured environment in which to process fear, grief, altered self-perception, and uncertainty regarding the future. Evidence-based approaches including Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT), Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), mindfulness-based cognitive therapy, supportive psychotherapy, and trauma-informed interventions have demonstrated measurable benefit in reducing emotional distress while improving adaptive coping mechanisms and quality of life. Equally important is psychoeducation, enabling survivors and their families to recognize that emotional and cognitive symptoms represent expected components of survivorship rather than indicators of personal weakness or treatment failure.

The process of cognitive rehabilitation similarly benefits from structured intervention. Neuroplasticity permits meaningful functional recovery through repeated cognitive engagement. Activities involving reading, memory exercises, strategic problem solving, language acquisition, executive functioning tasks, and computerized cognitive training may enhance neural efficiency while restoring confidence in cognitive performance. Occupational therapy and neuropsychological consultation may further assist survivors experiencing persistent deficits that interfere with vocational or daily functioning.

Lifestyle modification constitutes another essential component of psychological recovery. Physical activity has consistently demonstrated positive effects upon mood regulation, cognitive performance, sleep quality, inflammatory modulation, and overall neurological health. Nutritional optimization, restoration of circadian rhythm, adequate hydration, and management of chronic fatigue collectively contribute to improved psychological resilience. Equally important is the gradual re-establishment of meaningful social interaction, vocational engagement, recreational activities, and community participation, each of which reinforces a renewed sense of purpose and personal identity.

Confidence frequently represents the final domain to recover. Following months of medical intervention, many survivors develop understandable apprehension regarding physical symptoms, future health, or their capacity to resume previous responsibilities. Confidence cannot simply be restored through reassurance alone; rather, it develops progressively through repeated experiences of successful adaptation. Incremental achievement, realistic goal-setting, supportive therapeutic relationships, and ongoing clinical follow-up collectively strengthen an individual's belief in his or her capacity to function beyond the cancer experience.

Modern survivorship therefore requires a paradigm that extends beyond disease surveillance alone. Long-term outcome measures should encompass psychological well-being, cognitive functioning, vocational reintegration, interpersonal relationships, and overall quality of life in addition to traditional oncologic endpoints. As survival rates continue to improve across numerous malignancies, healthcare systems bear increasing responsibility for addressing the enduring emotional and neurocognitive consequences of treatment.

Survivorship should not be conceptualized as the absence of disease, but rather as the restoration of adaptive functioning across physical, psychological, cognitive, and social domains. Comprehensive recovery is achieved not only through successful eradication of cancer but through the preservation and rehabilitation of the individual's capacity to engage meaningfully with work, family, community, and personal purpose. Mental health is therefore not ancillary to survivorship care; it is one of its defining clinical outcomes.






PART 2

HOPE THROUGH REHABILITATION:

Rebuilding Quality of Life After Cancer Through Movement, Nutrition, and Preventive Imaging

By Robert L. Bard, MD

Cancer survivorship extends well beyond the successful completion of surgery, chemotherapy, or radiation therapy. While eliminating disease remains the primary objective of oncology, the restoration of physical function, emotional well-being, and long-term health has become an equally important component of comprehensive cancer care. Rehabilitation should therefore be regarded not as an optional service, but as a structured medical strategy designed to restore quality of life while reducing the risk of future health complications.

Cancer treatment frequently produces long-lasting physiological changes that include muscle deconditioning, chronic fatigue, neuropathy, reduced cardiovascular endurance, weight fluctuations, joint stiffness, and metabolic alterations. Left unaddressed, these consequences may significantly impair functional independence and diminish overall health despite successful cancer treatment. Rehabilitation provides survivors with an opportunity to reverse many of these effects through individualized interventions that promote recovery rather than simple maintenance.

Exercise represents one of the most extensively studied components of cancer rehabilitation. Carefully prescribed aerobic activity, resistance training, flexibility exercises, and balance conditioning have demonstrated benefits in improving muscular strength, cardiovascular fitness, mobility, fatigue, and overall physical performance. Equally important, regular physical activity contributes to improved immune function, healthier body composition, enhanced metabolic regulation, and better psychological resilience. Rehabilitation should therefore encourage consistent movement that is individualized according to each survivor's medical history, treatment-related limitations, and functional goals.

Nutrition constitutes another essential pillar of survivorship. Recovery requires adequate protein for tissue repair, anti-inflammatory dietary patterns, optimal hydration, and nutritional strategies that support immune function while reducing cardiovascular and metabolic risk factors. Rather than focusing solely upon weight management, nutritional rehabilitation should emphasize restoring physiological resilience and promoting long-term health across multiple organ systems.

An equally important component of survivorship is active surveillance. Rehabilitation is most effective when accompanied by objective monitoring of the body's ongoing recovery. Modern diagnostic imaging allows clinicians to evaluate musculoskeletal healing, vascular integrity, lymphatic function, soft tissue abnormalities, and other treatment-related changes before symptoms become clinically significant. Ultrasound, in particular, offers a safe, non-invasive, and repeatable method for assessing many superficial tissues without ionizing radiation, allowing clinicians to document recovery while identifying conditions that may benefit from early intervention.

Preventive imaging should not be viewed solely as a means of detecting recurrent malignancy. It also serves as an important instrument for evaluating the broader health of the cancer survivor. Identifying inflammation, fibrosis, musculoskeletal injury, vascular compromise, or treatment-related tissue changes at an early stage allows rehabilitation programs to be modified proactively rather than reactively.

The future of survivorship care lies in the integration of rehabilitation, preventive medicine, nutritional science, physical conditioning, and advanced diagnostic imaging. By combining these disciplines within a coordinated care model, clinicians can help survivors restore functional independence, improve long-term health outcomes, and regain confidence in their physical abilities.

Surviving cancer represents a significant medical achievement. Helping individuals reclaim an active, productive, and fulfilling life thereafter represents the next evolution of comprehensive cancer care.


About the Author

Robert L. Bard, MD, is an internationally recognized diagnostic imaging specialist and pioneer in advanced non-invasive cancer imaging. For more than five decades, he has dedicated his career to improving the early detection, characterization, and surveillance of cancer through innovative applications of 3D Doppler ultrasound, MRI, and image-guided technologies. Dr. Bard has authored numerous scientific publications, lectures internationally, and collaborates with multidisciplinary teams advancing precision diagnostics, survivorship, and preventive medicine. His clinical philosophy emphasizes early detection, active surveillance, and personalized imaging strategies that empower patients throughout every stage of cancer care and long-term recovery. Learn more at www.thecancerdetective.org.



PART 3

COMING HOME TO YOURSELF: The Journey Beyond Cancer Survival

By Anette DeMattio, MA

 

In the first two articles of this series, Jessica Connell and Dr. Barbara Bartlik explored what happens to the mind after cancer, while Dr. Robert Bard explored what happens to the body.

Reading them, I exhaled.

For the first time in more than thirty years, I understood what had happened to me. Not just to my body but to the way I think, the way I remember, the way I move through the world.  In six cancer diagnoses across a lifetime, no one had ever told me that what I was experiencing after treatment had a name. That I wasn’t imagining it. That I wasn’t failing at recovery. Recovery wasn’t simply about healing my brain. It was about rebuilding my relationship with it. Treatment ends. Recovery doesn’t.

I’d like to offer the view from inside, and to ask you to walk this part of the journey with me, because I don’t believe any of us were meant to walk it alone.

I still search for words. Every day.

There was a time when I could facilitate a room full of executives, coach leaders through life-changing decisions, and juggle six projects without thinking twice. Today, I keep twenty-five tabs open on my screen because I’m afraid that if I close one, I’ll forget where I was.

Reading their description of the lasting cognitive effects of cancer,  shaped not only by chemotherapy but by chronic stress and the burden of surviving, gave me something I wish every survivor received far earlier.

Self-compassion. I wasn’t weak. My brain and nervous system had been surviving for years. Recovery wasn’t simply about healing. It was about rebuilding trust. If I had known this thirty years ago, I would have been gentler with myself. I wasn’t only grieving what my brain could no longer do. I was grieving the woman I thought I’d lost.

And that kind of loss? When you lose confidence in your own mind, you slowly begin losing confidence in yourself. Yet for many survivors, it becomes one of the deepest wounds cancer leaves behind. Because cancer isn't only a diagnosis. It's a trauma the body remembers long after treatment ends.

I realized that on an ordinary afternoon. An executive sat across from me, complaining that money was tight and he wouldn’t be able to use his boat that summer. I remember listening. I remember another conversation happening entirely inside my own head. You want to know suffering? Try being a single mother of two young daughters, facing cancer for the fifth time while worrying about their health too.

The thought startled me. For my whole career, my gift had always been helping people carry their hardest moments. That day, I couldn’t carry another. I thought I’d lost my compassion. I hadn’t. I was exhausted. The woman who had spent decades carrying everyone else had finally reached the point where she could no longer carry herself. That afternoon became my last day in corporate work.

For me, it was work. Later, it was a relationship I finally let go of. For someone else, it may be something entirely different. But there is often a moment when the life we’ve been holding together can no longer hold us. And what changes isn’t our circumstances. It’s our identity.

What no one tells you is how lonely survivorship can become. I spent a small fortune trying to piece myself back together. Some of it helped. None of it gave me what these articles finally did. Language. Because once we can name an experience, we stop believing we’re the only one living it. Shame begins to loosen. Slowly, we begin trusting ourselves again.

We often talk about surviving. Then thriving. Both matter. But I have come to believe there is one more step. Evolving. Cancer didn’t teach me who I was. It slowly stripped away who I wasn’t. Long before anyone found a tumor, I’d already become an expert at surviving. Pushing through. Performing strength. Believing my worth lived in how much I could carry. Cancer didn’t create those patterns. It revealed them. The problem was never that I became strong. The problem was that I forgot strength was an adaptation — not my identity.

The first two articles remind us that survivorship is about more than the absence of disease. I’d simply add one more dimension. The rehabilitation of the self. Because after treatment ends, it isn’t only our bodies and minds that need rebuilding. It’s the relationship we’ve lost with ourselves. Trust in our minds. Trust in our bodies. Trust in ourselves. Because trust isn’t the destination. It’s the bridge back to the self beneath survival.

Looking back, I don’t think what nearly broke me was cancer. It was believing I had to become the woman I had been before it. She no longer existed. And maybe she was never meant to. Maybe the deepest work of survivorship isn’t returning to who we were before cancer. It’s allowing everything survival built around us to fall away, until all that’s left is the truest version of ourselves. The one that was there underneath it all — long before the diagnosis, long before survival became our identity. Waiting patiently for us to come home.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Anette DeMattio is a six-time cancer survivor, author, speaker, and transformational coach whose work explores the profound emotional journey beyond survival. Drawing from decades of leadership coaching and her own lived experience with cancer and chronic pain, she developed The Too Strong Method™, helping individuals recognize the hidden cost of always being "the strong one." Her writing challenges traditional notions of recovery by emphasizing the restoration of identity, self-trust, and authentic living. Through compassionate insight and personal wisdom, Anette inspires survivors, caregivers, healthcare professionals, and leaders to move beyond resilience and rediscover the truest version of themselves.


 

Thursday, June 11, 2026

Pink Bias (A Commentary on Social Un-Consciousness)

When Men with Breast Cancer are Forced Into a System That Was Never Designed for Them

Words and Pictures by: Lennard M. Goetze, Ed.D.


Breast cancer has long been framed within the public consciousness as a disease that primarily affects women. While this perception reflects the overwhelming majority of diagnosed cases, it has also contributed to the unintended marginalization of a smaller yet clinically significant population: men diagnosed with breast cancer. The result is a healthcare environment that often overlooks the unique experiences, emotional burdens, and diagnostic challenges faced by male patients.

Throughout the United States, breast imaging centers, breast health programs, and awareness campaigns have been developed around female-centered models of care. Pink ribbons, women's health messaging, female-focused educational materials, and gender-specific support programs dominate the breast cancer landscape. These initiatives have undoubtedly improved awareness, screening participation, and clinical outcomes for women. However, they have simultaneously created an environment in which men with breast cancer frequently feel invisible.

The issue extends beyond aesthetics or marketing. The predominance of female-oriented breast cancer messaging has contributed to a broader societal misconception that breast cancer is exclusively a woman's disease. Consequently, many men remain unaware that they are at risk. Others delay seeking medical evaluation because symptoms are not immediately associated with breast malignancy. In some cases, the stigma surrounding a traditionally female-associated disease further discourages men from discussing breast health concerns with family members, healthcare providers, or peers.

The consequences of this perception can be significant. Numerous studies have demonstrated that men are frequently diagnosed with breast cancer at later stages compared to women. Delayed diagnosis is often attributed to lower disease awareness, reduced vigilance regarding symptoms, and the absence of routine screening recommendations for the general male population. Because breast cancer is seldom considered during routine health discussions involving men, suspicious findings may remain uninvestigated until the disease becomes clinically advanced.

An additional challenge emerges once a male patient enters the healthcare system. Many breast centers have been designed almost exclusively around female patients. Waiting rooms are often filled with women's health publications, pink-themed décor, and educational materials that make little or no mention of male breast cancer. Although these elements are intended to create supportive environments for women, they may inadvertently communicate to male patients that they are outsiders in a space where they should feel equally welcome.

Personal accounts from male breast cancer survivors frequently illustrate this reality. Men describe entering breast imaging facilities and feeling as though they have arrived at the wrong location. Some report being mistaken for spouses or caregivers accompanying female patients. Others recount awkward interactions with staff members who rarely encounter male breast cancer patients. While such experiences are rarely malicious, they reveal a systemic lack of familiarity with the disease in men and reinforce feelings of isolation during an already stressful period.

One survivor described arriving for a mammography appointment only to be asked by a receptionist whether he was lost. When he responded that he was there for a mammogram, the expression on the receptionist's face immediately changed. Although the interaction was brief, it highlighted a larger issue: many healthcare professionals, like members of the public, unconsciously associate breast cancer exclusively with women. The survivor later raised this concern during a patient feedback session. To the institution's credit, educational posters addressing male breast cancer were subsequently added throughout the facility. The experience demonstrated how awareness can improve when organizations actively listen to patient perspectives.

Diagnostic imaging presents another area in which male patients encounter unique challenges. Mammography remains the cornerstone of breast cancer detection and evaluation. However, the technology and procedural protocols were developed primarily around female anatomy. Men possess substantially less breast tissue, different chest wall structures, and greater muscular development across the pectoral region. As a result, imaging procedures may be more technically challenging and physically uncomfortable for male patients.

Beyond the imaging equipment itself, post-procedural experiences may further reinforce feelings of exclusion. Several survivors have humorously described being provided with garments, wraps, or post-surgical accessories available only in traditionally feminine colors or designs. While seemingly minor, such details contribute to a broader perception that male breast cancer patients are being accommodated within a system built for someone else rather than receiving care specifically designed with their needs in mind.


The emotional implications of these experiences should not be underestimated. Research increasingly recognizes that patient-centered care extends beyond clinical outcomes. Feelings of belonging, dignity, representation, and inclusion influence healthcare engagement and compliance. When patients perceive themselves as outsiders, they may be less likely to participate in follow-up care, support programs, or early diagnostic evaluations. In the context of breast cancer, where early detection remains one of the strongest predictors of favorable outcomes, such barriers can have serious consequences.

Importantly, addressing male breast cancer awareness does not require diminishing the accomplishments of women's breast cancer advocacy. The remarkable progress achieved through decades of education, fundraising, research, and public outreach has transformed breast cancer care and saved countless lives. Rather than replacing these efforts, the goal should be to expand them. A more inclusive model of breast cancer awareness acknowledges that although men represent a minority of cases, their experiences are equally valid and deserving of recognition.

Healthcare organizations can take meaningful steps toward reducing this disparity. Educational materials should routinely acknowledge male breast cancer. Awareness campaigns should include male imagery and survivor stories. Breast imaging centers should ensure that informational resources address both genders. Healthcare providers should discuss breast cancer risk factors with high-risk male patients, particularly those with family histories, BRCA mutations, genetic syndromes, or prior radiation exposure.

Ultimately, breast cancer does not discriminate based on gender. The biological reality of the disease demands a healthcare response that is equally inclusive. Until awareness campaigns, clinical environments, and diagnostic pathways fully recognize the existence of male breast cancer patients, many men will continue to face unnecessary barriers to care.

The challenge before the healthcare community is not merely improving detection rates; it is ensuring that every patient who walks through the doors of a breast center feels acknowledged, respected, and represented. In the pursuit of equitable cancer care, eliminating "Pink Bias" may be one of the most important conversations that has yet to occur.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

© 2026 Lennard M. Goetze. All Rights Reserved. This article and all accompanying artwork, illustrations, graphics, and visual content are protected by copyright law. Permission is granted solely for publication within this specific newsletter issue. No rights are granted for reproduction, republication, redistribution, syndication, archival use, digital posting, adaptation, or reuse of any content contained herein by any other publisher, organization, entity, or individual without the prior written consent of Lennard M. Goetze. Any unauthorized use of this material, in whole or in part, is strictly prohibited.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Consequences of Invisibility: Why Male Breast Cancer Must Become Part of the National Conversation

By Cheri Ambrose / Founder, Male Breast Cancer Global Alliance

The article "Pink Bias"- highlights a challenge that those of us involved in male breast cancer advocacy encounter with remarkable frequency. Although breast cancer awareness has expanded significantly over the past several decades, public understanding of male breast cancer has not advanced at the same pace. Consequently, many men continue to experience barriers to awareness, diagnosis, treatment, and survivorship support that are rarely acknowledged within mainstream breast cancer discourse.

As an advocate working directly with male breast cancer patients, survivors, caregivers, and healthcare professionals, I routinely hear accounts that mirror those presented in this article. Men describe delays in seeking medical attention because they were unaware that breast cancer could occur in males. Others report confusion among family members, employers, and even healthcare personnel when confronted with a diagnosis generally perceived as a disease affecting women. These experiences are not merely anecdotal observations; collectively, they reflect a systemic awareness deficit that continues to affect patient outcomes.

The issue extends beyond public perception. Male breast cancer patients frequently enter healthcare environments that have been developed almost exclusively around female patients. Educational materials, awareness campaigns, support services, and even the physical design of breast centers often assume a female audience. While these resources have contributed substantially to advances in women's breast health, they may unintentionally reinforce the perception that men are exceptions rather than legitimate members of the breast cancer community.

This lack of visibility has practical consequences. Early detection remains one of the most important determinants of successful treatment outcomes. However, early detection depends upon awareness. Individuals who do not recognize their risk are less likely to seek evaluation for suspicious symptoms. Healthcare providers who rarely encounter male breast cancer may be less likely to discuss risk factors with male patients or incorporate breast health education into routine care. The result is a diagnostic pathway that frequently begins later than it should.

An equally important concern involves survivorship. Many male patients report difficulty locating peer support, educational resources, or advocacy programs specifically addressing their experiences. Although men and women share many clinical aspects of breast cancer treatment, the psychosocial dimensions of the disease can differ significantly. Feelings of isolation, stigma, and exclusion are frequently reported by male survivors and warrant greater attention within survivorship programming.

Importantly, addressing these disparities should not be viewed as competing with or diminishing efforts focused on women's breast health. The achievements of breast cancer advocacy organizations over the past several decades have transformed awareness, funding, research, and patient care. Rather, the challenge before us is one of inclusion. A comprehensive breast cancer awareness strategy should recognize and address the needs of all individuals affected by the disease.

Progress is achievable. Healthcare institutions can incorporate male breast cancer education into patient materials and awareness campaigns. Professional organizations can expand educational efforts directed toward clinicians. Researchers can continue investigating optimal screening and surveillance strategies for high-risk male populations. Advocacy groups can ensure that survivor narratives reflect the full diversity of the breast cancer community.

The stories described in Pink Bias are not isolated experiences. They represent opportunities for improvement. By acknowledging the existence of male breast cancer and incorporating men into awareness, education, and support initiatives, the healthcare community can move toward a more equitable model of breast cancer care.

Ultimately, visibility is not merely a matter of representation. It is a matter of public health. Men who understand their risk are more likely to seek evaluation. Healthcare providers who recognize the disease are more likely to diagnose it promptly. Institutions that embrace inclusivity are more likely to provide supportive and effective care. For these reasons, increasing awareness of male breast cancer should be viewed not as a symbolic gesture, but as an essential component of improving outcomes for an underserved patient population.


Disclaimer & Copyright Notice: The materials provided on this web-based article are copyrighted and the intellectual property of the publishers/producers (The MBC Global Alliance). It is provided publicly strictly for informational purposes within non-commercial use and not for purposes of resale, distribution, public display or performance. Unless otherwise indicated on this web based page, sharing, re-posting, re-publishing of this work is strictly prohibited without due permission from the publishers.  Also, certain content may be licensed from third-parties. The licenses for some of this Content may contain additional terms. When such Content licenses contain additional terms, we will make these terms available to you on those pages (which his incorporated herein by reference).The publishers/producers of this site and its contents such as videos, graphics, text, and other materials published are not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. For any questions you may have regarding a medical condition, please always seek the advice of your physician or a qualified health provider. Do not postpone or disregard any professional medical advice over something you may have seen or read on this website. If you think you may have a medical emergency, call your doctor or 9-1-1 immediately.  This website does not support, endorse or recommend any specific products, tests, physicians, procedures, treatment opinions or other information that may be mentioned on this site. Referencing any content or information seen or published in this website or shared by other visitors of this website is solely at your own risk. The publishers/producers of this Internet web site reserves the right, at its sole discretion, to modify, disable access to, or discontinue, temporarily or permanently, all or any part of this Internet web site or any information contained thereon without liability or notice to you.

The information provided in this article is a compiled report from public websites whose links are listed in the FOOTNOTES OR REFERENCE section and the statements and quotes included are from actual interviews by those whose names are stated who provided express consent to the publishing of this material.  This article is not meant to be used to diagnose, treat or advise others about what actions they should take with regard to any medical condition.  No one should undertake or discontinue any treatment as a result of what they read on our blogs. The publisher(s), editors or sponsors  are providing a strictly educational or editorial service and are not responsible for the diagnosis or treatment of any specific health needs. Writers and publishers are not liable for any damages or negative consequences from any treatment, action, application or preparation to any person(s) reading the information in this article or its thread. Readers with medical needs should obtain appropriate professional medical supervision. References are provided for any informational purposes only and do not constitute endorsement of any websites or other sources.

 

 

"Oh, The Changes I’ve Seen" - Op Ed by Bob Riter

I was diagnosed with breast cancer thirty years ago and I’ve attended dozens of national cancer research conferences since then. It’s a usef...