I have cancer.
Again.
This is not something I wanted to say again. I was diagnosed in April 2025 with stage 4 appendix cancer. After going through 6 rounds of chemotherapy, and having cytoreductive surgery and HIPEC, I was cancer free for 9 glorious months. Or as the hospital says – no evidence of disease.
Until July 2026. That’s when I found out after my once every 3-month CT Scan that I have cancer in my stomach wall. Now I have to go through it all again. Chemo. CRS Surgery and potentially HIPEC. Recovery. Uncertainty.
I’m not happy about it. In fact, I’m pretty angry. But who am I angry with? The universe decided I needed to repeat this experience. I don’t know why. So this time I decided well I guess I’ll write about it a little more.
I honestly don’t want to experience this journey again, but nevertheless, here I am.
After my doctor told me the diagnosis, she said I was strong because I didn’t break down crying. When I was talking with my neighbor, she said I was strong, because I walk Pepper every morning and I still go to the gym.
Strong is not my goal. I’m just doing what I have to do. I’m just trying to make it through. I’m not pretending it’s easy. I actually resent chemo for what it’s doing to my body. I’m just living through this experience.
What I do know is that I don’t want my identity to get lost in all of this. I don’t want cancer to be the first thing someone thinks about when they see me. I don’t want my diagnosis or my treatments to be the only thing people see. I don’t want everyday common greetings to be turned into an opportunity for condolences (that look of pity and the deep sound of sadness in the voice that says how are you, instead of the cheery, let’s keep it moving I got things to do how you doing).
I’m still me. Robin. I am still a woman who loves deeply, dreams boldly, leads, creates, teaches, encourages, laughs, and believes.
I still have work to do.
I still have things to build.
I still have people that I want to pour into.
I still have purpose.
Cancer is something that I am going through. It’s not who I am.
So for as long as cancer is a part of my story, I’ll use my website and this blog to share pieces of my journey and my story – how leadership, faith, growth, and purpose keep leading and teaching me throughout this experience.
Isaiah 43:2 says when you pass through the waters, I will be with you.
Yes, I have cancer again. But that’s not the whole story.