As I navigate the ongoing decision of whether to continue Tamoxifen beyond five years, a thoughtful conversation with my oncologist led to a new test and a powerful reminder that good medicine is about partnership as much as it is science.

Nearly five years ago, I chose reconstruction after breast cancer. Last week, I chose to undo it. The older I get, the more interested I am in honoring what was right for each season of my life.

What happens when a “successful” breast reconstruction doesn’t feel like home—and the system makes it nearly impossible to choose something else?

You bet we DNA tested our dog—because guessing is for amateurs.

Celebrating her heart, her life, and the endless love that carries forward.

I still can’t explain how I knew, but I did. Something in me just knew it was time to go to her.

I don’t know what’s worse: finding out you have cancer, or finding out about it in an email.

Time feels fragile, stretched between what is and what’s coming. Every moment carries its own weight.

Usually, these things throw me for a loop. But this time, I was ready.

Living with the cost of prevention, navigating the challenges, and reclaiming what I can control.

Bluey’s DNA results are in—equal parts surprise and delight, confirming what we knew: 100% hippo.

Losing your dog is a heartbreak like no other. Maddie was my entire world, my constant, my home.

And out of the blue, Bluey appeared, and the way he and Maddie clicked made my heart full.

A look back on the past four months and the whirlwind that followed my cancer diagnosis.