As of October 2022, health care providers and health technology and information networks are prohibited from blocking patients’ access to their medical records — except for certain rare exceptions.

That means most patients who see a medical provider or are given any kind of test can see clinical notes and test results as soon as they are posted online.

For some, that access may lead to an abundance of stress knowing if the results reveal a person’s cancer has returned or progressed. Others, however, may welcome the availability of those findings even if an oncologist has not yet read the results.

Falling Into the 'Alice in Wonderland' Google Hole of Cancer Results

“If it’s bad news, (people) can grieve a little bit and therefore be prepared and have a more productive conversation,” says Lila Pereira, a pediatric psychologist at Maria Fareri Children’s Hospital in Valhalla, New York.

Pereira adds that parents of children with cancer may be more welcoming of knowing their child’s test results before an appointment so they can prepare a list of questions.

This new right to see test results before hearing from one’s doctor means every patient must now come up with a strategy for handling this shift in how they receive news.

Pereira recommends that people who are anxious wait until the doctor’s office or clinic is open before clicking on the email that holds their test results.

“You want to delay your curiosity until you have access to people for support or to ask questions in the event of confusing or bad news,” she says.

Experts also suggest people take control over when — and in what setting — they read the results.

Dr. Christine Masterson, a gynecologist who serves on the Cures Act committee at Summit Health, a large practice, advises patients who know they will see an email before hearing from their doctor might want to have some emotional support lined up in case the news is bad.

“Open it with a family member,” she said, “Or have someone on speed dial.”

For more news on cancer updates, research and education, don’t forget to 

An expert recommends that people who are anxious wait until the doctor’s office or clinic is open before clicking on the email that holds their test results.

Navigating Cancer Test Results

Kathleen O'Brien

After being diagnosed with stage 2 triple-negative breast cancer in July of 2018, my first thought was, 

 I thought about my six children and my 11 grandchildren. I thought about my younger sister and my nieces and nephew! I flashed back in time when I was 12, and my mother died of cancer. Fear began to grip my mind! Then I remembered the promise that God had given me through my Pastor years prior, that I would not die of cancer as my mother did, but the generational curse was broken. My question to God was, “Why did I get this diagnosis?” This is where my faith had to kick in. I had to remember who I was and whose I was.

I began treatment quickly, first getting a port and then getting an iron infusion before my first chemotherapy. I didn’t know what I was getting ready to face, and I refused to read about my diagnosis; I refused to Google anything, I even refused to watch stories about people dying of cancer. I didn’t want to tell too many people because I didn’t need any negativity in my life.

I did know that I needed to be able to talk to someone, though. So, I did tell a very good friend of mine who was a three-time survivor and thriving. She gave me some great advice. She said, “Selina, if you listen to your body, you will be just fine!” she also said, “Remember, YOU know GOD!”

I began to visualize myself on the other side of this cancer diagnosis. My faith grew tremendously! I stood on the healing scriptures, which say: “No weapon formed against you will prosper” (Isaiah 54:17); “I shall LIVE and NOT DIE!” (Psalm 118:17); and “By HIS stripes, I was already healed” (Isaiah 53:5).

Before this diagnosis, I was on social media two to three times a week doing my live MLM selling, but after hearing “cancer,” I stopped because I didn’t want people seeing me without hair or the port sticking out of my chest. Again, advice came to me, “Selina, tell your own story so people don’t try to guess and know that someone will be helped by hearing you and seeing your faith in GOD!” So, I did it! I went to my social media page and told my story, my truth! I had people come on with great support. I also had people come on gloomy with negative vibes, but the good advice outweighed the bad!

In 2019, I was cancer free. I’m so thankful to my God, who never left me and still has a purpose and plan for my life, my Pastor, who continued to pray for me and my family and true friends who loved me to life! Today, I am president of a national organization, Sisters Network Tampa Bay Inc., where we support women of color who are diagnosed with breast cancer and need to hear good advice. We also educate our community about breast cancer and offer free mammograms to those who have no insurance. Today, I am a survivor with a passion to keep my sisters from suffering in silence.

This post was written and submitted by a CURE reader. The article reflects the views the author and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.

I heard some bad comments and had scary thoughts after being diagnosed with breast cancer, but the good outweighed the bad. 

The Good Advice Outweighed the Bad Comments During Cancer

Selina King

Joyce Spitz, RN, is the most compassionate medical professional I have ever met. She is knowledgeable, caring and calming. She listens and acknowledges that you are heard. Joyce makes every effort to seek information and direction to solve your problem.

We have been going to Maryland Oncology and Hematology in Columbus, Maryland, for 10 years, and Joyce has never failed to greet us with a warm smile and a hug. This world would definitely benefit from having an infinite number of Joyces in the medical field. Big hugs and many thanks to Joyce.

Editor’s Note: This is an essay submitted by Benny Gordon for the 2021 Extraordinary Healer Award. 

 to read more about CURE®’s Extraordinary Healer® Award for Oncology Nursing event on April 30, 2021.

A patient wrote about the smile and hug he received every time he went for a doctor’s visit, in addition to the wealth of information she provided whenever he had questions related to his cancer.

Compassion During Cancer Treatment

Benny Gordon

Debbie Scoles, RN, has been a source of strength and hope for patients and colleagues alike. We have all weathered the COVID-19 pandemic in many ways, and through it all she has always shown courage, grace and good cheer. I would like to share a short anecdote of my interaction with Debbie from a few months ago. However, I would note that this is just one of the many ways I have drawn strength from her as a person and as an oncology caregiver.

We had a beautiful patient (let’s call her Ms. Pea) who was devastated about being admitted to the hospital. Debbie was there to comfort our patient, advocate for her, make sure that even if she had to stay in the hospital with limited visitors that she was among friends who cared for her. On Ms. Pea’s discharge day, of course, we were all elated. Debbie saw me walking in the hallway and told me, “Rheza, Ms. Pea wanted to know how your crocheting is going.” I had mentioned previously to Ms. Pea that I wanted to make those cute, crocheted animals like the ones she created during her hospitalization. Ms. Pea had encouraged me throughout our different interactions, but I had never just sat down to make one. I would tell myself I was too tired, too busy, too whatever — I always had an excuse. Now, as nurses, we always find ways to help other people at the expense of ourselves. Self-care seems to be the last thing on our minds, even though it is one of the most important gifts we could give ourselves to keep on giving to others. Anyway, I started on my usual excuses as an answer to Debbie’s question and she said, “Well, just don’t give up!” That day was an extra difficult day, and her words affected me so that I resolved to just do it.

So I did. I made a complicated peacock for my friend and peas in the pod for my husband with little miniature peas of me, him and our dog inside the pod. These took me more than 24 hours to make (spanned over time, of course) and ended up being Christmas gifts. Anyway, I was proud of myself and the people close to me were delighted to receive personalized gifts.

Recently, Ms. Pea again was admitted to the hospital, and when I heard of that, I thought to myself, “I’m going to have to show her my finished projects because she would be so proud of me.” Unfortunately, Ms. Pea passed away before I could do that. Needless to say, I was devastated. She was such a beautiful, radiant soul. I am strengthened by our previous interactions and am privileged to have known and cared for her.

I suppose this is really a love note to Debbie and the beautiful Ms. Pea for encouraging me to care for myself, to focus on what is important and to treasure the time we have with the people in our lives while we have them. Thank you, Debbie. Thank you, Ms. Pea.

Debbie Scoles, RN, has been a source of strength and hope for patients wit hcancer and colleagues alike. 

The Gift of a Question in Cancer Care

Rheza Agtarap, NP-C, AOCNP

Cancer is a word that strikes fear into the hearts of many. It conjures images of suffering, loss and a battle that often feels unwinnable. For me, cancer wasn’t just a distant concept; it was my reality. My journey with cancer was a rollercoaster of emotions, faith and, ultimately, a testament to the power of surrendering to God.

I had only been colon cancer-free for a few weeks when I received another devastating diagnosis: liver cancer. The news hit me like a freight train. Just as I had begun to breathe a sigh of relief and reclaim a sense of normalcy, I found myself plunged back into the depths of fear and uncertainty. The thoughts of imminent death were overwhelming. I couldn't help but think about my son. If I wasn’t here, who would take care of him? The anxiety was paralyzing.

In my despair, I turned to the one source of comfort and strength I had always known: God. I prayed fervently, pouring out my heart and soul. I asked God to take care of my son, to watch over him and ensure his well-being. The tears flowed freely as I cried out in desperation. I felt so powerless, so small in the face of this monstrous disease. I prayed and prayed, seeking solace and guidance.

Amidst the tears and the heartache, I found myself praying for peace. I needed to quiet the storm within me, to find a sense of calm in the chaos. As I continued to pray, something remarkable happened. It was as if a light pierced through the darkness enveloping my soul. I felt a profound sense of peace wash over me, a reassurance that defied all logic and reason.

In that moment, God spoke to my heart. He told me that if He chose to heal me from cancer, it would mean more time on earth to fulfill my purpose. However, if He did not heal me and I went to heaven, I would be with Him in eternal peace and joy. The message was clear; either way, I would win. This revelation was transformative. It shifted my perspective entirely.

I realized then what was truly important. It wasn’t the number of days I had left on this earth, but how I chose to live those days. It was about the love I shared, the faith I upheld and the legacy I would leave behind. My fear of death was replaced with a sense of purpose and determination. I knew that my life, whether long or short, had meaning and value.

This newfound peace and clarity changed everything. I approached my treatment with a renewed sense of hope and faith. I trusted in God’s plan for my life, whatever that might be. I focused on the blessings I had, the love of my family and the strength of my faith. I surrendered completely to God, letting go of my fears and anxieties.

Miraculously, as time went on, my health began to improve. The treatments started to work, and the cancer began to retreat. The doctors were amazed at my progress. I knew, deep in my heart, that it was not just the medicine that was healing me, but the power of my faith and the grace of God. Surrendering to Him had given me the strength to fight, the courage to hope and the peace to accept whatever came my way.

Today, I am cancer-free. My journey was not just about battling a physical illness, but about discovering the depths of my faith and the power of surrender. I learned that true peace comes from trusting in God’s plan, from knowing that we are never alone and that His love transcends all suffering.

In sharing my story, I hope to inspire others who are facing their own battles. Whether it’s cancer or any other challenge, know that surrendering to God can bring a peace that surpasses all understanding. It’s not about giving up; it’s about giving over – giving over your fears, your doubts and your worries to the One who holds the universe in His hands.

Remember, with God, you are never alone, and with faith, there is always hope. Surrender to Him and find the strength to face whatever comes your way, knowing that in His love, there is always victory.

This post was written and submitted by Pamela McColloch. The article reflects the views of McColloch and not of CURE®. This is also not supposed to be intended as medical advice.

Through colon cancer and liver cancer, faith is what brought me to peace and clarity during treatment and now survivorship. 

Surrendering to God: How My Faith Led to Healing From Cancer

Pamela McColloch

Who is a survivor? According to the National Cancer Institute, a survivor is one who remains alive and continues to function during and after overcoming a serious hardship or life-threatening disease. A patient with cancer is considered to be a survivor from the time of diagnosis until the end of life.

In my opinion, cancer survivors should also include the patient’s family. The family of the patient with cancer also is extremely affected by the diagnosis of their loved one, from diagnosis to the end of their loved one’s life and beyond. This is why I consider myself a survivor.

My husband received a diagnosis of terminal lung cancer at age 40. I was 31 years old at the time with two young children, 7 and 9 years old. I was completely lost and felt completely alone at the time. That is when Deborah stepped in.

Deborah Lorick, M.S.N., M.H.A., RN, RNOCN, was the assistant nurse manager on the oncology unit where my husband was a patient. Deborah was always making sure that my husband, my children and I were well cared for. I am sure, without a doubt, that Deborah gave this attention to every patient, but she definitely had a way of making me feel like we were the focus of her attention.

As time went on and my husband became very ill, Deborah asked me a very simple yet courageous question, which she says she does not remember asking. She asked me what my plans were once “this was all over” and said, “You should really think about nursing.” At the time, surviving one day at a time — even one hour at a time — was all I could think about. 

However, that question would swirl through my mind every so often. I had no education past high school. I had no career and very little work experience. I had no idea what I would do when I no longer had to care for my husband, but one thing was for sure: I did not want to be a nurse.

I witnessed with my own eyes how difficult it is to be a nurse. I saw the nurses take care of my husband, giving him multiple blood transfusions, multiple antibiotics, chemotherapy, pain medication every four hours, all while donning and doffing personal protective equipment (PPE), whether it was for contact isolation because my husband had a Clostridium difficile infection or to keep my husband safe with reverse isolation PPE. I witnessed nurses work 12 hours tirelessly while remaining compassionate and professional. If there was anything that made me consider nursing, it was the professionalism and compassion that each nurse who cared for my husband had.

Once my husband did pass away, I had to seriously consider how I would provide for my children. The words that Deborah had spoken began to swirl in my head. Although I believed that I could not be a nurse, doors began to open up in that direction. I decided that I would take a leap of faith and see if I could do it.

Deborah was right there ready to cheer me on when she found out I had been accepted to the nursing program at College of the Canyons. Once Deborah realized I was moving in the direction of nursing, she became my cheerleader and mentor. It is truly because of Deborah that I consider myself a survivor.

Once in the nursing program and during my clinical rotations, it was there that I had realized that God could use me to comfort families and assist them through one of the most difficult events in their lives. My first rotation was on the oncology unit where my husband had been a patient. The first patient that I laid my hands on is one I will remember for my entire life. That is when I decided that I would become an oncology nurse. Being an oncology nurse has been what has given me the title of survivor.

I have continued my education, receiving my bachelor’s degree in 2013 and my master’s degree in 2019. I am now an oncology nurse navigator. It is because of Deborah that I have become a dedicated oncology nurse, providing compassionate and professional care to every patient I serve.

Deborah is my hero, and I honestly cannot say that I know where I would be if it were not for Deborah caring for my family as a whole. I will always be grateful for Deborah’s compassion for my family and for guiding me to the most amazing and rewarding career. I not only survived because of Deborah, but I thrive because of Deborah.

The impact that Deborah has on patients on a daily basis is amazing. I cannot begin to thank her for the impact that she had on the life of my husband. It is because of Deborah that my husband’s family are survivors.

Deborah Lorick, M.S.N., M.H.A., RN, RNOCN, was the assistant nurse manager on the oncology unit where my husband was a patient. Deborah was always making sure that my husband, my children and I were well cared for. 

A Cancer Survivor's Story

Cynthia Dasaad, M.S.N., RN, OCN

Cancer Does Not Define ME, Being Karen Defines ME.

Cancer does not define ME, being Karen defines ME.

It doesn’t change ME, or the way my family and friends see ME.

Having radiotherapy does not define ME, being brave defines ME.

With radioactive burns on my body, my family and friends still love ME.

The life changing surgery, and wearing a colostomy bag, does not define ME, being strong defines ME.

I am still beautiful, my scars do not define ME, and one day a man will love ME, for simply being ME.

Having chemotherapy does not define ME, being resilient and fighting the cancer defines ME.

Sickness, diarrhea, hot sweats, cold shivering spells, fatigue, chemo brain, being off my food, having a strange metal taste in my mouth and craving salty snacks

all make me weak, emotionally and physically drained, yet somehow I get through it.

Because I am Karen, and having cancer treatments does not define ME.

Being told of my stage 3 bowel cancer, that they can’t cut it all out of me, it’s spread into the lymph nodes and I have a benign brain tumor, too, does not define ME.

Being courageous, remaining calm during challenging times and the "carry-on regardless" attitude defines ME

Accepting and living with what the oncologist and cancer nurses said to me - "We can’t cure you, but we're looking at stopping it spreading further," does not define ME.

Refusing to give up, not putting my life on hold, finishing my degree, graduating, doing my MA in media journalism, pursuing my media career and being determined defines ME.

Cancer does not define ME, being a cancer princess warrior defines ME.

Cancer hasn’t won, hasn’t destroyed ME, it doesn’t have the hold or power.

I won, I have got the power and in the face of adversity,

I am not the loser, but the real true winner.

I am Karen, I am brave, beautiful and strong, I am ME.

This poem was originally submitted for the CURE® 2021 Poetry Contest. Submissions are open until August 15 and poems can be submitted

A stage 3 bowel cancer survivor who recently found out she was in remission writes a poem about maintaining her identity despite cancer.

Cancer Does Not Define Me

Karen Elizabeth Bucknall

When my son was diagnosed with ultra-rare fibrolamellar carcinoma in June 2020, we were shocked and terrified. I was given contact information for Jessica Ellison, M.S.N., RN, BA, not knowing who she was or where to turn. Within a matter of days, I was connected with the No. 1 team in the country for dealing with this cancer, and it is because of Jessica.

She talked me off the ceiling in the evening on the weekend she was available to help my son. Since then, she has paved the way for our family and has made an impossible situation as seamless as possible. As an administrator, she has an incredible talent for organizing a talented team of doctors, radiologists and surgeons, which in turn gives the families quick turnaround time and a feeling of really being part of a caring community.

Jessica is one in a million, and we will be forever grateful for her work with and for our family.

Editor’s Note: This is an essay submitted by Emily Capece for the 2021 Extraordinary Healer Award. 

A mother describes how an administrator was able to help connect her and her son to the care that he needed for fibrolamellar carcinoma.

‘One in a Million’ Oncology Nurse Connecting Patients to Care for a Rare Cancer

Emily Capece

Having a care team that makes you feel like you’re their only patient doesn’t come around too often. That’s how I feel, though — thought about, taken care of, involved. At no point in the early stages of my cancer journey did I ever expect to be excited to see my team, but after surgery and biopsies, I found that I truly was happy to see Alyssa Johnson, M.S.N., RN. 

For my first follow-up visit after surgery, Alyssa joined my family, my oncologist and me to teach us about my treatment plan. She explained every medication and the side effects and what to expect. Her fantastic bedside manner really took our emotions into account. I cope with things using humor, and Alyssa picked up on that and inserted lighthearted jokes. When we left for the day, my family and I all felt a huge relief and were extremely optimistic about my future. 

Going through the motions of chemotherapy can be dreadful and exhausting both physically and mentally. Somehow Alyssa made me excited to get to treatments. Although treatments were never desired, the idea of having her show up in the chemo suite was enough to encourage me to keep my head up each time someone approached my suite in the hallway hoping it would be her. 

Alyssa always spent time in the suite chatting about treatments, insurance, dogs, social media and babies. She was the first person to congratulate me on getting married and always encouraged me whenfeeling down about whether I could have children after I finished treatment. She would call me betweentreatments to make sure I was doing well; she didn’t just wait for me to have an issue and call. At every step of my journey, I’ve felt an overwhelming amount of safety and love from someone I’d never known before. 

About seven treatments in, Alyssa left for maternity leave. Even though I was extremely sad to have thatloss during the scariest times of my life, I sent her a text congratulating her on her newborn and she texted back! To this day, as I continue treatments and she remains on leave, she still checks in on me. She encourages me to keep fighting. 

Unfortunately, I will be leaving University of Chicago Medicine to go to The University of Texas MD Anderson Cancer Center for a trial treatment, but the worst part about it isn’t the fact that my current treatments aren’t working or worrying about traveling across the country; the worst part is not being able to bring Alyssa with me.

I wish all patients had a nurse like Alyssa Johnson, M.S.N., RN. 

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