Archives for January 2026

By Claire Wentz

A cancer diagnosis reshapes every part of life — body, mind, and spirit. Self-care in this journey is not about perfection or relentless positivity; it’s about gentleness, presence, and honoring your needs. Caring for your whole self can support healing, resilience, and a deeper sense of peace, even amid uncertainty.

Key Takeaways

• Small, intentional acts of self-care create big shifts in wellbeing.
• Spiritual wellness—whatever that means to you—can restore strength and calm.
• Nutrition, movement, and rest should adapt to your energy and treatment plan.
• Setting boundaries, saying “no,” and finding community help protect emotional balance.
• Mindfulness and gratitude can turn daily moments into sources of healing.

Nourishing the Body with Compassion

What you eat during treatment matters less than how you approach nourishment. Focus on gentle foods that comfort and strengthen: whole grains, fruits, vegetables, and plenty of hydration. Some people find that small, frequent meals help manage nausea and fatigue.

If you’re unsure what’s safe or helpful, consult a dietitian who specializes in oncology. Listening to your body (not comparing it to others) is the most compassionate approach.

The Power of Movement

Exercise can be a grounding form of care, even in small doses. Walking around the block, stretching in bed, or practicing gentle yoga can reduce fatigue, improve mood, and help with sleep. Before starting or adjusting an exercise plan, talk with your healthcare provider. The goal isn’t intensity. Instead, it’s presence.

Managing Stress Through Stillness and Breath

Spiritual Grounding: Finding Meaning and Connection

Spiritual wellness isn’t about religion unless you want it to be. It’s about connection to yourself, to others, and to something larger than your diagnosis. Some people find comfort in prayer, others in nature, art, or journaling. Lighting a candle, listening to sacred music, or writing a daily gratitude note can create small moments of transcendence.

Here’s one approach to reconnecting with spiritual strength:

Practice	Purpose	Example
Journaling	Clarifies emotions and releases worry	Write “What am I learning from this moment?”
Prayer or Affirmation	Invites peace and hope	“May I be gentle with myself today.”
Time in Nature	Restores calm and presence	Sit outdoors and notice your breath and surroundings

The Strength of Boundaries and Support

Learning to say “no” is a vital part of self-care. Declining extra commitments allows space for healing. Share openly with loved ones about what support helps most — whether that’s meals, company, or quiet.

How to Build Your Support Circle:

• Identify three people you can call when you need comfort or practical help.
• Join a cancer support group in your community or online.
• Ask one trusted person to help manage updates or appointments when you’re tired.

Caring for Your Inner World

Self-care is not just about the physical; it’s about the emotional and spiritual landscape within you. Create a ritual of peace — morning tea, soft music, or a nightly gratitude reflection. These simple actions reinforce that you are more than your diagnosis.

Keeping Track of Your Health and Records

Staying organized can help you feel empowered in your care journey. Maintain a digital or paper file of your test results, medications, and treatment notes so that you and your care team always have access. Saving these records as PDFs keeps them consistent and easy to share. You can also try this simple tool to convert files to PDF with ease.

Daily Practices for Whole-Self Care

To anchor wellness in your day, try these gentle actions:

• Drink water regularly, even when not thirsty.
• Eat something fresh and colorful once a day.
• Rest without guilt — naps are medicine.
• Step outside for sunlight or fresh air.
• Repeat an affirmation: “I am allowed to rest and heal.”
• End your day with gratitude for one small good thing.

The Heart of Healing: Staying Positive Without Pressure

Staying positive doesn’t mean ignoring pain or fear. It means allowing those emotions while still noticing moments of joy, beauty, and connection. Resilience grows when we make space for both hope and honesty.

Frequently Asked (and Deeply Felt) Questions

These questions often arise for people navigating cancer and self-care:

1. How can I balance treatment demands with personal time?
Start by scheduling recovery days after treatments. Protect your rest the way you’d protect an appointment. Delegate errands or ask loved ones to handle small tasks.

2. What if I feel disconnected from my old spiritual beliefs?
It’s normal to question faith or meaning during illness. Explore new expressions — reading poetry, talking with a chaplain, or meditating outdoors. Allow your spirituality to evolve naturally.

3. Is it selfish to prioritize my needs over others’?
Not at all. Healing requires energy and attention. Meeting your own needs first allows you to give from overflow, not depletion.

4. How do I talk to friends who don’t know what to say?
Let them know honesty is okay. You might say, “I don’t need answers — I just need your presence.” Many people appreciate clear guidance on how to help.

5. Can mindfulness really reduce treatment anxiety?
Yes. Research shows that mindful breathing and grounding techniques can lower stress hormones and improve sleep, making treatments easier to tolerate.

6. What’s one thing I can do when everything feels overwhelming?
Pause. Place your hand over your heart, take a slow breath, and remind yourself: “I am safe in this moment.” Simple grounding can bring calm even in chaos.

Conclusion

Healing is not linear, and self-care isn’t a checklist to complete. It’s a rhythm — of rest and action, connection and solitude, hope and acceptance. Each act of care, no matter how small, is an act of courage. You are not alone on this path, and every gentle choice you make in your own favor is a form of healing.

My story is a story of elephants—and of hope.

Elephants are deeply social and emotional beings. Their families are led by females, built on lifelong bonds, and often include non-relatives who are welcomed as their own. They mourn their dead. They protect the vulnerable. In many ways, they are just like us.

I grew up with an incredible family of origin. But this is a story about the families we choose—and the ones who choose us.

In 1990, I moved from Minnesota to attend UNC Charlotte, knowing no one and having never set foot in North Carolina. I found my first chosen family in the theatre department. Long nights in costume shops and scene shops forged lifelong bonds. We were united by art, passion, and purpose. I met my future husband there, and when we married in 2002, our wedding party was filled not only with nieces, but with members of our theatre family—people who had become kin.

Over the years, we were adopted into more herds: work families, hobby families, and eventually our own, when our son was born in 2010.

Then, in May 2022, everything changed.

What I assumed was menopause led to a long-overdue exam—and a diagnosis of cervical cancer. I was initially staged at 1, with a treatment plan that felt manageable. But sharing the news felt overwhelming. How do you keep everyone informed without reliving the trauma over and over?

I created a private Facebook page called What a Beautiful Mess. What began as a way to share updates quickly became something much more. It was therapeutic. It was honest. And it became a community—mostly women—who laughed and cried with me, brought meals, offered rides, and held space for my fear.

Then, in June 2022, a scan revealed the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes. I was re-staged to Stage 4b. There is a big difference between Stage 1 and Stage 4.

Still searching for connection, I googled “cervical cancer support” and found Cervivor—a global community of patient advocates. From the moment I joined, I was welcomed. These women understood instantly what I was going through. For the first time, I wasn’t explaining—I was being understood.

After countless treatments, surgeries, side effects, and setbacks, I received the words every cancer patient dreams of hearing: N.E.D.—No Evidence of Disease in May 2023. My many circles celebrated together.

In August 2023, I added another circle to my family when I was chosen to attend a Teal Diva Retreat. It was my first time spending extended, intentional time with other gynecologic cancer survivors and thrivers—and it was truly life-changing. I formed deep friendships and experienced a level of sisterhood I had never known before.

So much happened in the mountains that weekend, but as they say, the first rule of the retreat is: don’t talk about the retreat (if you know, you know).

Since then, I have remained an active participant in Teal Diva events and was later honored with the opportunity to facilitate at another retreat—an experience that felt both humbling and full-circle.

In September 2023, I attended Cervivor School in Seattle, where I was trained in storytelling for advocacy. Soon after, I successfully submitted proclamations declaring January 2024 Cervical Cancer Awareness Month at both the county and state level—standing proudly before my community to use my voice for change.

People joke that cancer is “the gift that keeps on giving.” But the truth is this: cancer gave me a community. A fierce, compassionate, unstoppable circle of women I now call family.

My advocacy logo is an elephant with a cervical cancer ribbon, inspired by this truth:
When female elephants sense danger, they circle up—protecting the vulnerable, masking weakness, and standing guard with fierce love.

There is always room in my family for more elephants.

Story written by: Christy Chambers | photo credit: Molly Dockery Photography