Kicking Cancer

Prevention Through Healthy Living


I might seem like I can hack it, but perhaps it would be best if you resisted the urge to tell me the worst possible cancer stories you know. It may mean that I burst into tears the second I get into my car or see my children next, or maybe even that I can barely hold it together while standing there bravely conversing with you, or that it keeps me up late at night when I should be getting my precious cancer-fighting well-being sleep.  Or maybe all of the above.

I may be strong, but I appear stronger than I really am, and I think you’d be hard pressed to find anyone with cancer who does not spend at least a few minutes each day hoping that the cancer does not metastasize, or worrying that his/her children will have to grow up without a parent.

Believe me, I know the realities.   There are tons of stories where the person with cancer is fine….they diligently go through their intensive treatments, they love themselves, their children, husband, and life in all of its awesomeness as much as I do, and they fight for their lives by doing every single thing they possibly can, yet they still die a few years later.  Or less.   I see stories like this online and have read them in books, and have even known a few who had very little time on the planet after being diagnosed.    It is scary business.  I try not to go here or I will fall apart.

There are also tons of survival stories.  People who have beat the odds.  These are the stories I want you to bring me, or none at all.

Also please do not approach the subject of  “well, there is a reason for everything” or “it will turn out how it is meant to”…..I am totally cool with karma and God and the big picture, but I don’t really want to hear about it while I am fighting for life, AND I know for a fact that no children should have to grow up without one of their parents and that the best possible place and role for me is here on the planet with my children until I die of a ripe old age.  And if there is some big picture or karmic reason why I am not supposed to be here, I will fight with and curse at the gods until my last breath that it was not the right thing.  My place is here.

Just wanted to get that off my chest.

(No need to comment here or on my fb about people not thinking/being cold-hearted—-that is not what I am looking for.  I really think that these people just don’t know, so I am educating).




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26 thoughts on “Fragile

  1. Xxxooooo

  2. Jen Kalt on said:

    oh Nicole, I wish I could hug you right now. I’ve always hated the “everything happens for a reason” nonsense, but now I hate it a lot more.

  3. Charlotte August on said:

    Nicole – thank you so much for your compassion and truth. You are a singularly amazing woman and you have my complete admiration. xo

  4. Tami Glenn on said:

    I am surrounded by many survivors living what seem to be healthy lives. Thank you for your candidness, very good reminders for how not to be.

  5. go – fight – ☼WiN☼

    when i’m struggling with something,
    and someone says “it is what it is”
    i want to say:
    “no, it ISN’T what it is ~ i am CHANGING what it is to be what i WANT it to be”

    sending you love from idaho. ♥

  6. Rhonda W on said:

    Well said Nicole, your place is right here, right now! Thank you for being fully present and big in my heart. With hugs & love ~R

  7. tiff_tut on said:

    As always, you are so brave to share with us what you want, and what you are going through. I’m not sure why adversity causes people who haven’t experienced it to dredge up all their worst horror stories — I think they want to connect, but they just don’t realize what they are saying, and who they are saying it to. You know we all love you, and we all expect you to fight, because we want you to be our friends until we are both a ripe old age! If I could wight with/for you, you know I would. *Lots of love*

  8. That’s right Nicole!—–You are an educator extraordinaire. I love you so much. You’re so sweet and harbor no grudges. I know that you not only want to not hear those stories yourself, but you want all the other cancer thrivers to not hear them either. Word will spread and people will think before they speak. I’m so proud of you for not holding this in and getting it out there. My love and admiration are a bottomless pit :o) Mom xoxoxoxxoxo

  9. Thanks, Nicole, for mirroring my thoughts exactly. As you have in all your posts. I, too, aim for education when I email updates to my support group of friends and family. I am a thriving survivor and so are you. Folk cite survival percentages and seem to forget the flip side, that percentage who survive and thrive – but then they haven’t read all the books and studied the Budwig diet either. I’m sending you a DVD “Cancer is curable NOW.” Believe it. I do. And thanks for having the guts to speak this last post. I already forwarded it to my sister-in-law to help her understand her own sister’s recent diagnosis and attitude.

  10. Melissa Kraemer on said:

    ♥ ♥ ♥ You have such a big open heart we all love you! ♥ ♥ ♥

  11. Hey Nicole, My son Noah was diagnosed with Stage 4 neuroblastoma when he was 4 years old. The doctor said it was the worse case he had seen and because he was “older”(this disease is found more often in infants) they gave him a 20% chance of surviving 5 years. He is now 12, straight A student, plays soccer, drums, piano, has a “girlfriend” and is the Vice President of school…. not to mention the nicest kid you would ever want to meet. We are sooo lucky!!!! Wanted to share a good story with you…

    Keep Fighting.

    With Hope,

    Lara Fitting Nelson

    • Thank you for sharing this story Lara. That is so uplifting and I am so glad your son is thriving. A scary time I am sure back then. I remember Mindy telling me of your son so long ago and I was so happy to see photos of him on your fb page when we connected. Yeah!!! A miracle or something else…whatever it is rejoice!
      You can’t really compare cancers……but I will say that I would rather have it then see my children have to endure it. Thanks for the positive story. xo

  12. Nicole, I want to tell you about my mother.

    At the age of 45, my tired mother learned she was pregnant with her tenth child. It had been eight years since she had delivered my sister and this news, as you can imagine, was not heralded with banners of joy. Being a deeply Catholic woman, however, she made a deal with God. “God’” she said, “You are giving me this baby. You need to give me 18 years to raise it.” And so, nine months later my little brother Michael was born, creating a 22 year age span between my oldest sibling and my youngest.

    Fast forward five years. Much to the horror of my family, my mother was diagnosed with bladder cancer. “No,” she said. “I have a deal with God.” My tiny little five foot tall mother fought HARD, and she survived.

    Fast forward a few more years. For the second time, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. This time it was in her kidney, and she was told it was stage 4. Michael was now 11 years old. “NO!” my mother gritted. “I HAVE A DEAL WITH GOD.” I can remember one of my mother’s church lady friends sitting at our kitchen table and saying to her in the most nonchalant voice imaginable, “Rita, if we need a miracle, well then a miracle we will have.”

    I am happy to share with you, Nicole, that last month my mother danced at my brother’s wedding. She leads aerobics in the senior community where she lives, so dancing was no problem at all. Michael is now 31 years old, and my mother has lived to see all ten of her children married and settled.

    I am not a God person per say, so for me, this is not so much a story about faith as it is a story about sheer will. I think my mother WILLED herself well, and I believe in my heart of hearts it was her love of her children that gave her the grit and strength to fight the fight.

    I hold you in my heart and in my intentions. My keyboard is covered with tears for your fight.


  13. Amy Bruce on said:

    Should you need a silent friend to listen, please call on me. I have learned, in many ways, that what we often need most is simply a witness.

  14. Tamar krigel on said:

    I am growing when I watch your courage and tenderness. Love!!!

  15. Peace. Sleep. Nap. Love. Relax.

  16. Greg Gaiera on said:

    I hardly know you. I can’t pretend otherwise, but you are inspiring… the whole package… Words, actions, everything . I admire your strength, resolve, and LOVE.

    • Amy Alchemy on said:

      Nicole I’ve been thinking a lot about this post. How brave and helpful it would be if everyone spoke up as you did and let people know what is upsetting conversation. And what conversation we long for instead. In our society we are supposed to smile and nod and listen politely. Then we walk away feeling alone and misunderstood. You are one wise woman. Thank you for sharing this.

  17. Sandy Sweitzer on said:

    I admire your honesty and your truth. Please come to the HCBHP and hear the stories of the survivors there.

  18. Thank for expressing so eloquently what has been in my head so many times since my diagnosis.

    • I can only concur with your words and those of people responding here. Thank you! Thanks especially to Mary and Lara – positive stories are really important!! x x

  19. Bonnie Etz on said:

    Dear Nicole,
    Your journey continues to be uniquely yours and yet universally applicable. Your ability to share so purely is a gift to us all. Blaze on. Can you hear us cheering?
    Bonnie from the Project

  20. Laura Kadlecik on said:

    My grandmother, my mother, and one of my sisters, and Mike’s great-grandmother are ALL cancer survivors! Count em! And I’m counting you! love you Nicole and have been thinking of you/missing you cause of our busy lives! and thank you for sharing these complexx feelings in this post! xxoo

  21. Nicole: It reminds me of how I learned during my first pregnancy that I needed to, in some way, protect myself against seemingly well-meaning people who wanted to tell me horror birthing stories. Yikes! the WORST thing possible for birth is to go into it with fear. I felt sometimes rude, but finally got the knack of politely cutting them off with something like, “I’m just trying to stay positive about it and don’t really want to hear a story that will keep me up worrying at night, thanks for understanding.”
    I know birthing is far from surviving cancer, but I guess my point is that you have the right to create a positive space around yourself and don’t feel bad about defending that space. You are doing what is best for yourself, and I should hope people would respect that.
    I LOVE the story from Mary above. Shows the role of belief and has taught me a lot. Nicole, you WILL make it!
    Talking about this also reminds me of a woman I met who only let herself worry 10 minutes a day. If she’d already had her worry time and something else happened later in the day, she’d just say to herself, ‘Well, can’t worry about it now. It will have to wait until tomorrow!’ And she did it! Hmm, I think I’ll work on that too. I had forgotten her story.
    Be well, D

  22. I recently met a beautiful and inspiring woman whose positive energy and vitality were remarkable. Imagine my surprise when she told me that she was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer fourteen years ago with NINE, yes NINE cancerous lymphnodes and had simply decided that she wasn’t going to die of it. Simonton method and qigong and energy work all helped… meeting her really gave me a boost. Imagine, 9 cancerous lymphnodes 14 years ago!

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