Suzanne (Sue) McCarthy is a comparatively new writer. Sue graduated the University of Delaware, with a Bachelor of Science degree in Education. After working in several nontraditional academic positions, she started her home-based tutoring business and in 2022 celebrated twenty-five years as a self-employed tutor and business owner, serving school aged students in the Pittsburgh, PA area.


Sue felt inspired and motivated to tell her story, and embarked on an informal six-year journey to completed her memoir. Sue worked with two writing tutors, after realizing she couldn't simply teach herself. Her only experience had been periodic journaling. Her memoir, 

Learning to
Thrive: A Journey from Adversity to Joy and Fulfillment

Sue lives in the North Hills of Pittsburgh, is married, has three adult daughters, and nine grandchildren.

Sue McCarthy

Sue McCarthy received diagnoses of breast cancer in 2001 and lung cancer in 2018. Catch up on all of

During a cancer journey, anticipatory anxiety results in many of us asking ourselves what-if questions, which usually put our already fearful minds into an even more worrisome state. But we can take steps to espouse more hopeful thinking by reframing our expectations of the results of a CT scan from, "What if cancer spreads all over my body?" to "What if the metastases in my body are reduced by 50%?" Since your attitude has an effect on beating cancer, these changes can increase your chances of surviving.

Most of us who have received a cancer diagnosis can look back to a moment, before we got the result of a PET scan or a biopsy, when we thought, "What if I have cancer?" and there’s a good chance that that what-if question sent chills up our spines or brought on severe anxiety.

Seven and a half years after I was officially deemed cured, I have still struggled with waiting for the outcome of my annual follow-up CT scan. What if my cancer has recurred?

These what-if questions typically lead to what is called anticipatory anxiety, and cancer, other serious illnesses, and many other life stressors bring about fear and even terror. Despite the fact that I took the initiative in my 2007 divorce, I still felt incredibly lonely and unsure in the early days of my new life. I wrote the following inspirational(?) message to myself: "Just because something in the future is unknown does not mean that the outcome will be bad." It was as positive as I could be at that difficult time.

As I battled my stage 3b non-small-cell lung cancer, struggling but completing my chemotherapy regimen, then “acing” my radiation treatment plan, I was highly reluctant to allow myself to believe my oncologist as he mentioned, more and more frequently, the possibility of a cure for my disease. Cancer is a collection of formidable diseases, hard to beat, and also hard to maintain a positive attitude toward!

However, attitude is significant in being cured of cancer, and it is possible to finish “what if…” questions optimistically. One can turn the question around, from "What if…my cancer has metastasized further?" to "What if… my body is now cancer free?" Or, "What if the hour I waited in the cancer center results in a pleasant conversation with my sister and a new improved connection with her?"

Another way that a man can reframe expectations as he waits to get the PET, CT, or MRI scan is by wondering not "What if the medical staff are ok?" but "What if… the technician who gives me the test is totally understanding and compassionate; the radiologist agrees to read the scan immediately?"

Knowing that a positive attitude can improve cancer outcomes hopefully will lead all of us to more positive cancer journeys. Possibility thoughts often bring on optimism, motivation, and ease.

I know a woman who had been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer three months before we met in 2021. Donna is an incredibly optimistic person, and I have no reason to believe that it’s a coincidence that she’s lived almost twice the predicted life expectancy for the average colon cancer patient. However, Donna has a very special gift of courage fueled by faith.

It’s typically very challenging for cancer patients to remain positive through the struggles of cancer treatment. In fact, it’s so difficult that it would be a good idea to give yourself a pat on the back for allowing yourself to take on a positive mindset and thus increase your likelihood of becoming a cancer survivor.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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Articles

Anticipatory anxiety is common among cancer patients, often leading to negative "what-if" scenarios. Reframing these thoughts to focus on positive outcomes can foster a hopeful mindset, potentially improving cancer survival rates. The author shares personal experiences of battling stage 3b non-small-cell lung cancer and emphasizes the importance of maintaining a positive attitude. Examples include shifting thoughts from fear of metastasis to envisioning a cancer-free body. The narrative highlights the role of optimism in cancer journeys, illustrated by a stage 4 colon cancer patient who defied life expectancy predictions.

During my cancer journey, anticipatory anxiety made me ask “what if” questions, but reframing them with hope helped me stay positive and improve my chances of surviving.

What If? Embracing Hope During a Cancer Journey

"Dr. L" was my thoracic surgeon, and I felt quite comfortable with him. I’d met with him after having tumors in each of my lungs biopsied. The tumors were both malignant. I had felt hopeful about him, my first lung cancer doctor, since "Dr. C," my longtime and much-loved primary care physician (PCP), had referred me to him. As it turned out, I was really pleased to have Dr. L as my doctor throughout the process of my eventual stage 3B diagnosis.

There are so many ups and downs in the cancer journey, especially the process of diagnosis, that I often felt like I was on a roller-coaster ride. My PCP had initially seen the spots on my lungs as an incidental finding, the report on a CT scan that was done in the emergency department of a nearby hospital, after I had suffered a probable seizure as I backed out of my driveway one morning.

From the day I first met my thoracic surgeon, he gave me reason to feel optimism. It started with my doctor educating my husband and me. At that first appointment, Dr. L drew pictures of lungs on the dry-erase board in his office and explained how lung cancer can be cured surgically. He hadn’t even mentioned chemotherapy, which made me very happy. Then he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Your outlook will be significant in beating this disease.”

At that moment, I felt empowered. I knew that was something I could do. Before that, I hadn’t even considered the possibility of having any control over my disease. I moved on to level 1

of self-initiated lung cancer patient rehab.

However, two weeks after my first operation in the summer of 2018, my thoracic surgeon called to let me know that, in addition to removing the tumor in my left lung, he had taken lymph nodes from my chest and found that many were malignant. Despite that alarming news, Dr L’s tone of voice and comforting words helped a lot. He told me that my updated treatment plan would begin with cisplatin chemotherapy as soon as possible.

There’s no doubt in my mind about the relationship between mental, emotional, spiritual and physical health. Dr. L’s words, “Your outlook will be significant,” were the first of at least three significant optimistic turnarounds, and there were smaller ones as well. They were all life altering to me.

I am now a leader in my church’s cancer support group, and I have met and even become close friends with individuals who have overcome amazing cancer challenges. A very special person to me is Donna; she joined our group four years ago. Six months prior to that, she had been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer, yet her attitude that day was one of motivation and inspiration to fight and rise above her diagnosis. She even had the group roaring with laughter as she described the role a stink bug (a mortal enemy of hers) played in her diagnosis.

And I’m in awe of Melanie, a woman who came to the group to support her husband, Jim, who was in treatment for a malignant sarcoma in his upper arm. Jim did well in treatment and had reached his fifth year since his diagnosis. He was at his appointment and was expecting to be told, “Congratulations, you are cured!” But that was not the case.

At his CT scan a few days earlier, the technician had adjusted the machine somewhat differently than at previous scans, and Jim’s oncologist shocked him when he said, “I’m sorry to have to tell you, but a mass has been found in your pancreas.” He lived about 15 months, and Melanie made it possible for him to die at home, his only request. Melanie is still a loyal group member; she wants to be there for others who are going through cancer with their significant other.

As our group grows and reaches more patients, caregivers and survivors, I remember back to the lowest point in my journey. Soon after falling asleep one night, I awoke and felt the full force of the chemotherapy in my first round of the infusions. I felt helpless, and, to a large extent, I was. Throughout the night, I suffered through diarrhea, nausea and vomiting. I couldn’t even drink water. The next morning, my fever reached 101 F, and I called my oncologist’s office. My husband took me to the medical center, and because of the motion of the car, I threw up yet again. I could only walk into the office by clinging to my husband. The aide took my vital signs, and they were fine, with the exception of my weight being extremely low. Finally, the oncologist who was seeing sick patients examined me and said, “You’re dehydrated. Drink more water.”

“That’s all?!” I said. “Yes,” he responded. “All of your other symptoms are completely normal.” Soon after that day, I realized that I could — and would — get well. I started eating better, sleeping better, and after each successive round of chemo, I used the mantra: "I am not sick until proven healthy, but healthy unless proven sick."

Through daily radiation and monthly immunotherapy, I maintained a positive attitude, most of the time. And my now good friend Donna is an incredible role model of faith, hope and positivity to me. Donna has had all the chemotherapy she can take at this point, as well as radiation, but yesterday, she let me know that she’s getting closer and closer to acceptance into a new drug trial. I am so blessed to have her in my life. Nothing seems to scare her; her perseverance is incredible.

A patient's journey through lung cancer highlights the importance of a positive outlook and supportive medical professionals. Initially diagnosed with malignant tumors in both lungs, the patient found empowerment through their thoracic surgeon's encouragement. Despite setbacks, including malignant lymph nodes and challenging chemotherapy, the patient maintained optimism, aided by a supportive cancer support group. The narrative underscores the interconnectedness of mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical health in cancer recovery. The patient's experience emphasizes the role of community and resilience in navigating the complexities of cancer treatment.

My first oncologist got me started with positivity in my cancer journey, which I was thankfully able to internalize.  

With Cancer, 'Your Outlook Will Be Significant in Beating This Disease'

Prior to my diagnosis with Stage 3B Lung Cancer, I had spent many years reading self-help books. I worked hard, but never felt successful, or took pride in myself. Then the world started to emerge from the pandemic, and I realized God had given me a second chance at life. He had brought me back from a 30% chance of survival, and I knew I wanted my life to be worthy of His incredible gift. I am a different person today. My new normal is so much more rewarding, and I feel so much joy.

An ordinary day in my life before Stage 3B Lung Cancer included enough work in my tutoring business to pay the bills and save a little. I told myself I had to be kind and caring to everyone I interacted with. Although my expectations of others were reasonable, my expectations for myself were not. I told myself I needed to be available for my husband, adult children, step-children and grandchildren, and if not, I would 

even when I hadn’t promised anyone but myself. 

Was I living my life as my own worst enemy? 

I was not happy. I wanted the students I tutored to always be successful; I wanted to be a good person, all of the time. I wanted to please the special people in my life, routinely.

Then I was diagnosed with lung cancer in the spring of 2018, and subsequently received treatment: Malignant tumors were removed from each of my lungs. The lymph nodes taken from my chest at the time tested cancerous as well, so I had chemotherapy, followed by radiation, and immunotherapy.

A month later I had a CT scan, and it showed my lungs were cancer free. 

I was so thankful, so grateful, and soon my lifestyle would change. I would start to learn to thrive, and slowly but surely, I began to experience more and more joy and fulfillment.

However, I had attained remission just two months before the pandemic would close down most of the world; I struggled throughout the COVID era with something similar toPTSD. I felt the need to push through the challenges of the pandemic in the same way that I had fought, long and hard, to beat lung cancer. In my first nine months of remission, I spent my time attempting to catch up on all I had fallen behind on while in cancer treatment.

But, in the fall of 2020, as the spread of COVID slowed down, I also slowed down, and asked myself, 

 God had saved my life. My chance of cancer survival had been much less than 50%, and yet I was alive. If God had wanted me to have a second chance at life, I wanted to live a life worthy of His miraculous gift to me.

Since that day, I have focused on giving back to today’s cancer patients – by blogging for CURE magazine, as well as by continually increasing my involvement in my church’s cancer support group, St. Peregrine group. I’ve reduced my tutoring to six hours per week, leaving me with quality time to spend with my husband, children, step-children, grandchildren and even to make periodic visits to extended family members who I had only had minimal contact with throughout my life.

I still work a little too hard at times, but I feel so rewarded by my work, especially having made the commitment to serve those who continue to receive cancer diagnoses. I sense so much joy and peace as I go forward in my new normal.

A personal journey through Stage 3B Lung Cancer led to a profound transformation, emphasizing gratitude and a renewed sense of purpose. The experience of surviving cancer, coupled with the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic, prompted a reevaluation of life priorities. The individual shifted focus from self-imposed pressures to a more fulfilling life, engaging in cancer support activities and cherishing family time. This narrative highlights the impact of life-threatening illness on personal growth and the pursuit of a meaningful existence, underscoring the importance of support and community involvement.

Prior to my diagnosis with Stage 3B Lung Cancer, I had spent many years reading self-help books. I worked hard, but never felt successful, or took pride in myself. 

How Lung Cancer Helped to Save My Life

About a week ago, I first noticed the email to the CURE bloggers promoting “Stand Up to Cancer Day,” and later that same evening, I received a text message from a special friend: “We’ll talk soon. I love you.” Although I didn’t know that my friend had contemplated hospice care, I wondered whether that was what she wanted to talk about, and I felt uncomfortable and very sad.

I believe I had been sleeping restlessly that night, but I woke up at 4:30 a.m. the next morning suddenly feeling a sense of panic. Thoughts skyrocketed in my mind. Was I trying to read her mind? Or was this all a figment of my imagination? Was my special friend going to die? Could I cope with her death, maybe imminent, but likely within the next year? I had told my friend, on the only day she brought up the topic of her passing, that I would be OK; but then I questioned myself; might I let her down? I knew I couldn’t let her down at that critical point.

Then suddenly the email came back to mind: “Stand Up to Cancer.” That’s absolutely what I have to do. I will be there for my special friend until one or the other of us is gone. Although both of our journeys have involved life-threatening cancers, hers (three years after mine) was at a more advanced stage when diagnosed. Her cancer had metastasized to her lungs and liver, and she had experienced more complications and side effects than I did. On top of it all, she is ten years younger than I am.

All of these are good reasons to stand up to my special friend’s cancer.

My friend had been struggling with low blood counts for the past year or two, yet she continued her chemotherapy regimens, interspersed with shots to stimulate white blood cell production, primarily to prevent infection.

A physically strong and confident woman, my special friend completed her chemo in June of this year, but soon after spent four days in the hospital. At that point, her oncologist, who is also my oncologist, told her she was not well enough to have any more chemotherapy. The next day, she saw a radiation oncologist, who told her she wouldn’t be able to receive radiation therapy either because of the large number of malignant nodules in her lungs, as well as the location of the growths in her liver.

This meant that the only cancer treatment she was still possibly eligible for was surgery. Although her liver specialist was initially reluctant, he reconsidered and decided that my friend was, in fact, strong enough for liver surgery. He would remove the two cancerous nodules in her liver, despite one being located very close to her stomach. The surgery was performed on August 12, 2025.

My special friend did well with the surgery; however, she soon began suffering from two concerning complications. She developed a rash covering her body and, more worrisome, was seeing blood in her post-surgical drains. She was at the hospital emergency room less than a week after being discharged. It was determined that infection was the most likely cause of her symptoms, and she was put on a strong antibiotic. My friend is home again now and is being seen by a home health care nurse twice a day.

It’s very reassuring to me to know that she’s being well cared for. I am hopeful and prayerful that she will recover completely from her surgery.

I’ve had some weak moments, but generally I’ve got this. I am successfully standing up for my special friend. I’m not sure whether it’s harder to stand up for her now, in her journey, or for myself in my own voyage. Although the perspective has been different, both challenges have been immense. Cancer is never easy; cancer is a formidable enemy.

The narrative explores the emotional and physical challenges faced by a cancer survivor supporting a friend with advanced cancer. The friend, younger and diagnosed with metastatic cancer, undergoes surgery after chemotherapy and radiation are deemed unsuitable. Post-surgery complications arise, but with medical intervention, recovery is hopeful. The author reflects on the difficulty of supporting a loved one through cancer, emphasizing the importance of standing up to cancer for both the friend and oneself. The piece underscores the shared journey and resilience required in the face of cancer's formidable challenges.

Receiving a “Stand Up to Cancer Day” email gave me the strength to support a friend through her darkest cancer days. 

Sue McCarthy

What If? Embracing Hope During a Cancer Journey

With Cancer, 'Your Outlook Will Be Significant in Beating This Disease'

How Lung Cancer Helped to Save My Life

Standing Up to a Friend’s Cancer Is as Hard as Facing My Own

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