In April 2025, a fall in the middle of the night changed everything. What started as a trip to the ER ended with words no one wants to hear: “You have a large mass on your pancreas.” For two weeks, my husband and I felt like we had received a death sentence. We received the diagnosis: stage 4 Non-Hodgkin’s follicular lymphoma. At the same time, I was dealing with a job situation that clashed with my values. A big health crisis and a tough workplace came together. This made one thing very clear: I had to change. I left my job without another position lined up—terrified, overwhelmed, and staring down medical bills. But in the middle of all that fear, I realized something else: I hadn’t really been living. I had been going through the motions. I pushed through tiredness and ignored what mattered most: people, pets, and experiences. I kept telling myself I would “slow down later.” I went through six rounds of chemotherapy and immunotherapy, and I’m currently on maintenance treatment. Early on, I decided I would not let my life be just “before cancer” and “after cancer.” I wanted something meaningful in between.  I wanted to survive—and also actually live.