What it showed, what's the plan, how I'm feeling.

One week after my Lower Anterior Resection (LAR) surgery, I'm home recovering.

In this episode, I share what surgery was actually like: the da Vinci robot, waking up to learn I didn't need an ostomy, what they removed, the unexpected pain that turned out to be a surgical drain, and the incredible all-women surgical team that helped save my life.

I also talk about my pathology report, my first week of recovery, and what life looks like now as I learn to live without a rectum.

Three weeks. One surgery wrapped up. Another begins.

In this update I talk about finishing breast reconstruction rehab, pausing Herceptin, chemo hair loss, hot flashes, my final preparations for tomorrow's low anterior resection (LAR), and the strange reality of standing on the edge of the biggest surgery and what may be the biggest milestone yet: once this part is over, there won't be a tumor in my body.

I'm hopeful. I'm terrified. Both are true.

What does it mean to reconstruct a body? And what does it mean to reconstruct a relationship with that body?

After a mastectomy, a tattoo, a boudoir photoshoot, and a trip to Montana, I found myself learning how to touch, see, and inhabit my body in entirely new ways. This episode is about grief, beauty, sexuality, courage, and one quiet realization that changed how I see myself.

On Choice

My plastic surgeon said something at my last post-op appointment that completely stopped me in my tracks:

"If I see you again, it'll be by choice."

After more than seven months of pathology reports, surgeries, chemotherapy, and appointments dictated by cancer, I realized I'd been handed something I hadn't had in a very long time: agency.

This episode is about trauma, choice, and a brief moment when life could become mine again.

My biggest surgery yet is just days away.

In this episode, I share what a Lower Anterior Resection (LAR) is, why it scares me, and how I'm trying to balance preparation with surrender as I face another life-changing chapter of cancer treatment.

On strangers going through it, putting on a bra after reconstruction, salads, and adaptability.

On the eve of my first cancer surgery, I skip the Super Bowl and follow a quiet pull to hear a group of Buddhist monks on their Walk for Peace. The year before, after divorce, heartbreak, and a visit to the Garden of 1,000 Buddhas in Montana, one unexpected realization changes the way I think about purpose, love, and what it means to keep living.

This week: MRI news, a successful implant surgery, and a clear path to my next surgery on July 28.

But behind the scenes: a positive Signatera result, unexpected stomach pain, and some of the hardest mental health days of this journey that have reminded me healing isn't linear—and that acceptance is something we have to practice over and over again.

The night before surgery, I learned a friend had died from an overdose.

The next day, I woke up in recovery and was offered fentanyl and oxycodone for my pain.

This is a story about a man who dedicated his life to helping others recover, the day I drove two hours to help him after a relapse, and why I believe addiction deserves the same compassion we so readily extend to illnesses like cancer.