Amanda R. Ferraro is a two-time acute myeloid leukemia survivor, a stem cell transplant recipient and a seven-time brain surgery survivor. Amanda is passionate about helping others during their cancer journey, which she does on her website 

. Amanda’s goal is to make sure all patients with cancer feel like they are not alone in what they are going through.

Amanda Ferraro

When you think of the word “cancer,” what comes to mind? A bald head, chemotherapy, maybe a port hanging from a sick patient’s chest? We are prone to seeing cancer as a setback or a problem. Far too often, when a family member is diagnosed with cancer, the immediate response is “Are you going to make it?” Why are our minds programmed to think that the word “cancer” means “the end?” A simple internet search of the word “cancer,” and you will be provided with countless definitions, hundreds of different types of cancers, images of bald heads, medication advertisements, the latest news about treatment options and hospitals in your area that treat cancer. The one thing missing from that search is information on being a cancer survivor.

There are no two cancer stories that are exactly the same. Like fingerprints, we all have different characteristics and are individually unique. You will never find two cancer survivors with the exact same story. Yes, you may find cancer survivors that have fought the same type of cancer, but their stories are not the same. Cancer does not choose you based on race, religion, income or age. There is no bias when it comes to cancer. Each chemo treatment, radiation therapy, blood draw, transfusion and doctor visit are unique to each individual patient. Which in return means that each patient’s cancer journey is unique to them. So, why is it that all cancer survivors are put into one category?

No matter what treatment you endured or what type of cancer you had, if you are lucky enough to reach remission, then you are a cancer survivor. That is it. Just a cancer survivor. There are no awards for the torment you went through while trying to save your life. There is no medal of honor awarded to you by hospital staff, and there is certainly no recognition for the war that you just fought and won, besides the label of “cancer survivor.”

As a cancer survivor myself I can only attest to what I have personally gone through, however in my patient advocacy work, I have spoken to hundreds of patients with cancer, and there are many similarities between all of us. None of which have been alleviated by the cancer survivor label.

Mental health conversations seem to be a bit taboo, nonetheless one of the most consistent annotations from cancer survivors is the mental strain cancer can have on you. The psychological stress that you endure while undergoing cancer treatment is immense and can lead to many mental health issues. An article from the National Behavior Health Network states that one in three patients with cancer will encounter mental or emotional distress. The mental aspect of cancer is not always considered imperative, thus leaving many cancer survivors with the residual effects of untreated mental issues. Anxiety and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) are two of the most common mental health issues spoken about amongst cancer survivors.

Another similarity amongst cancer survivors is the need to be individualized. Often times we are grouped into assumptions on how post-treatment life should be. Again, all cancer survivors are different. Some cancer survivors are quick to recover and get back to life as if cancer never happened, and others may take more time. We need not to judge someone on how long their recovery takes. Depending on what their treatment regimen looked like, some cancer survivors may not be able to get back to how their life was before cancer, hence the term “new normal.”Daily life may be different. Their physical and mental capacity may also be different. The medication we use to treat cancer, also has side effects which can last years after receiving it. Just like treatment options, post-cancer treatment is different for all survivors. Things like chemo brain, neuropathy and GI issues are some of the things that cancer survivors manage in post-treatment care. Some cancer survivors may be able to feel like themselves again soon after treatment and there are other circumstances where cancer survivors are never able to get back to what life was like before cancer.

Financial burden is probably one of the most relatable topics among all cancer survivors. Cancer is expensive and it can definitely put a strain on finances. All too often money is a big topic when you are diagnosed with cancer, when in reality, the biggest topic should be your health. The cost of receiving cancer treatment is astronomical. Some people who are diagnosed with cancer have to pick and choose which bill they are going to pay because of the cost of treatment. Often times there is little to no understanding the type of financial toxicity a cancer diagnosis means. With things like eating healthy, driving to appointments, paying to park, getting your medication and paying your co-pays, the money starts adding up pretty quickly. There are amazing organizations that do help with the financial burden, but there are still many out-of-pocket expenses you will need to cover when you have cancer.

Going through cancer is extremely life-changing for many. No matter the type of cancer you have, cancer survivors as a whole do experience some of the same post-treatment occurrences. It is important to understand, however, that not all cancer survivors are the same and we all recover differently. Each of our “survivor” stories are different, and just because one person you know with cancer went back to work within six months of ending treatment, does not mean other cancer survivors who are not able to go back to work again are less than. We may have cancer in common, but that is the line in the sand.

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Every cancer survivor has a different story and experience, and they should not always be looped into the same category. “Like fingerprints, we all have different characteristics and are individually unique,” writes a survivor.

There’s a World of Differences Behind Each Cancer Survivor

“Cancer patient.” Those two words can hold so much power and yet be the two most dreadful words ever put together. In today’s society, words hold so much influence over our daily lives. Whether you are describing your status at work or establishing a new friendship, we seem to be using our dialogue as sentiment. There is an old poem that as a child we would reiterate time and again that says, “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Growing up, I honestly believed that. It was not until I was diagnosed with cancer that I realized words can cause wounds deeper than any stick or stone.

I remember the first time I overheard someone call me a “cancer patient.” I felt like this huge label was slapped on my forehead and my name had been changed. Everything that I felt represented a person with cancer was now how people saw me, I thought: the bald head, no eyebrows, slouched posture, dried lips, doctor visits, medical bills and sorrow. My views on cancer and what cancer looked like bombarded my mind almost every day. I dreaded each hair that fell out, each medication I was now taking, each doctor’s visit and each blood draw. The “cancer patient” label really threw me into a mental jail.

Each time that I would try to get out of the house or just sit on the front porch, I felt like everyone’s eyes were watching me. The wondering looks I would get from people passing by blasting their music were hard to stomach for me. I knew I was looking rough. I knew that I looked sick, but what I wasn’t ready for was when people would ask me if I was a “cancer patient.” I was dreading having to answer that question as it truly hurt my feelings.

To me, “cancer patient” was just a label. I was feeling sick, yes, but I also was feeling like I was kicking ass. I looked sick, yes, but I also realized that my body was going through a war at the moment, and I was fighting for my life. I embraced the baldness after I decided that I wasn’t going to let a disease win, so I shaved my own head on a live video to feel like I had some control over my current outlandish medical situation. I held my head high while taking numerous amounts of new medication, I smiled through all of the atrocious pain, and I still pushed my weak and brittle body each day to get up out of bed and live my life, but in return I smacked with the label of being a “cancer patient.” That didn’t sit well with me.

I feel like we put labels on things that we don’t understand or that are foreign to us. We have labels for those earning more than us, for those who are different from us and for those who are going through medical situations. What I find concerning about being called a “cancer patient” is that I felt like my identity was stripped of me. I was not being called by my name – I was being called by my disease, and my disease definitely did not define me.

So, the next time you have contact with someone who looks like they may be going through active cancer treatment, please be courteous to their feelings. Please remember that person is currently fighting for their life and does not need a label to define who they are. We have names for a reason.

A woman writes about how being labeled a ‘cancer patient’ gives her a feeling of lost identity.

The Damage of the Label ‘Cancer Patient’

When you are diagnosed with cancer so many things run through your mind. Financial issues, death, the care of your family, keeping a roof over your head and paying the bills are just some of the things that you may be thinking about. But one thing I didn’t realize I needed to worry about was who would care for me.

Like most adults that are diagnosed with cancer, I was a parent. I had a three-year-old son at the time of my diagnosis, and he was my everything. My whole world revolved around this little human and I was content on it being that way. Until it couldn’t. I was 29 years old when I was diagnosed with leukemia. A devastating diagnosis to say the least, because my cancer was not caught at an earlier ER visit, it was basically killing me and I had just days left to live. I had to drop everything to try and save my life. Everything changed in the matter of 24 hours and I was the one needing to be cared for now.

When I was diagnosed with cancer my boyfriend and child’s father was the primary income in our home. He worked about 60 hours a week to provide for my son and I. Life was simple and going well, until the day we found out I had cancer.

When I found out I was sick, I didn’t know how to break it to my partner, so I called his mother and had her tell him. I just didn’t know what to say. My partner called when he heard the news of my diagnosis and wanted to come see me right away. An hour later, my son and my boyfriend came to the hospital to give me some support and lots of hugs. It was so wonderful seeing them, but I was so worried. I didn’t know what the future was going to hold, and I also didn’t know what the future of my family looked like. I was my son’s primary caregiver and the parent that was there 24/7 with him. I had him on a schedule and in play classes and cancer just didn’t fit into my schedule. Yet, I didn’t have a choice.

In the blink of an eye I was stuck in a hospital, fighting for my life and my boyfriend became a full-time parent and caregiver.

During my first round of induction therapy, I was stuck in the hospital for 33 days.

When I came home, I needed around the clock care. I was weak and fatigued and I didn’t have the energy to care for myself. I needed help with grooming myself, baths, making food, taking my medication, getting dressed, going to the food store and all the other everyday things that most people can do. I had to go to the hospital every other day to get transfusions also. Life was not easy, but with the love and care of my partner, we made it through. I was blessed to have a man by my side that dropped everything for me. He even put his career on hold to support me during the hardest time of my life.

Once we were told that I was in remission, we were happy to start getting our life back to “normal”. Unfortunately, I relapsed. Just six months after being told that I was cancer free, I was back in the hospital, but this time was different.

My oncologist wanted me to get a stem cell transplant to try and save my life. It was going to be hard for me, but it would also take a toll on my family. I felt insecure with needing this much help. I didn’t feel that it was right for me to ask my boyfriend to stay by my side during my diagnosis and recovery again. I was ashamed to ask for his help again, but he never left my side.

Recovery for stem cell transplant is brutal. Your body is basically learning how to function all over again— it’s not easy. The day I came home I was very weak. My body was fatigued and swollen, and I was in so much pain, I could barely walk. I was so grateful to have someone at home that was able to care for me each day.

When I came home from the hospital after my transplant, I was on almost 30 different medications. Each week, my boyfriend oversaw separating each medication in my pill box and keeping track of all my side effects. We had alarms set to remind us to take medications at certain times, and a journal that kept track of my temperature.  

I had a Hickman port in my chest so each day that I would bathe I needed to be covered in plastic wrap. I needed help getting in and out of the shower, getting undressed and dressed and washing my body. I needed help making food and getting something to drink. I could barely walk, I was so weak, so I needed with help with each step I tried to take. Being that I was not able to walk, I obviously couldn’t drive. My boyfriend had to take care of all the things that I was used to doing myself.  Cooking, cleaning, laundry, food shopping, pharmacy runs, travel and maintaining the household. He basically was sustaining life for us all by himself.

I am a year post transplant and suffer from chronic GVHD (graft-verses host disease) in my stomach, joints, mouth and skin. I have short term memory loss (chemo brain), carpal tunnel, herniated disks, spinal stenosis, rheumatoid arthritis, neuropathy and chronic pain. Each day I never know how I am going to feel when I wake up in the morning. But no matter how I am feeling or what needs to get done, I know I have someone by my side that cares enough to help me fight for my life.

Amanda Ferraro

There’s a World of Differences Behind Each Cancer Survivor

The Damage of the Label ‘Cancer Patient’

A True Meaning of Love

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