Asking for a friend as I’m a different subtype. She is triple positive and had TCHP. she had surgery and the tumor left over is hormone positive still but now her2 negative. Is this common? What treatment was recommended after the change?
I wanted to share my experience so hopefully someone else doesn’t end up in the same situation.
I was in NYC and decided on a whim to see a Broadway show about an hour before curtain. I bought what was advertised as an instant transfer ticket on StubHub, but the ticket never arrived.
I called customer service and was told to wait a few minutes. When I called back about 30 minutes before the show, they said they were having trouble with the seller and offered to let me choose another ticket instead.
By then it was only about 20 minutes before the show, so I asked for a refund. They told me they couldn’t because of their no-refund policy.
I explained that I wasn’t changing my mind. The ticket I paid for didn’t exist, and the show was about to start. They still refused to refund me and instead said they would email replacement tickets. When I asked when, they said they didn’t know.
At that point I was standing outside the theater with 15 minutes until curtain, no ticket, no refund, and no guarantee that replacement tickets would ever arrive.
Fortunately, I walked over to the box office, and they had an excellent seat available at a heavily discounted price. I had no idea theaters sometimes release seats at the last minute, so that’s a tip I’d recommend to anyone before using StubHub.
Five minutes after the show started, StubHub finally emailed me replacement tickets. Not only were they too late to be useful, they were also significantly worse than the seat I originally purchased.
After the show, I called again to request a refund. This representative told me I should have rejected the replacement tickets if I wanted my money back. I explained that the previous representative had explicitly told me refunds weren’t an option. Then they claimed that simply opening the email counted as accepting the tickets, even though I didn’t open it until after the show had already started because I was trying to figure out what had happened.
The most ridiculous part was when they argued they had “upgraded” me because they sent me two tickets instead of one. I was attending by myself, so receiving two worse seats after the performance had already begun was hardly an upgrade.
I ultimately disputed the charge with my credit card company and won.
My advice: avoid StubHub. If anything goes wrong with your order, don’t expect customer service to fix it in time for your event. In my case, they couldn’t provide the ticket I purchased, refused a refund, sent replacement tickets after the show had already started, and then claimed I had accepted them because I opened the email after the fact. I won’t use StubHub again, and I wouldn’t recommend anyone else does either.
I logged onto Instagram today looking for my daily dose of funny cat videos.
Instead, the first thing I saw was a 29 year old woman who had just been diagnosed with metastatic triple negative breast cancer, pleading for help.
I know those of us in the cancer community see these stories far more often than everyone else.
But today…
I’m sick of this shit.
Today, I am fucking angry.
I’m tired of hearing that I got “the good kind.”
I’m tired of hearing metastatic breast cancer described as “a chronic disease.” For most women, it isn’t. It’s a terminal disease that we’ve gotten better at treating, not curing.
And I’m tired of pretending that decades of public campaigns have actually educated people about what breast cancer really is.
Companies profit from our disease. They earn goodwill, sell products, collect tax deductions, and market themselves as champions of women. Meanwhile, the public is shown inspirational survivor stories and messages of strength.
But they aren’t shown the whole truth.
We aren’t a sorority.
We’re trauma bonded.
We didn’t choose this.
After all these years, how many of us have still heard, “You’ll be fine. It’s just breast cancer.” Or, “At least you get free boobs.”
If these campaigns had truly educated people, those words wouldn’t still be coming out of people’s mouths.
The reality is that many of us spend five to ten years chemically castrated just to reduce the chance that our cancer comes back. We lose our fertility. We lose our estrogen. We lose our libido. Many of us develop severe vaginal atrophy, bone loss, joint pain, insomnia, cognitive changes, cardiovascular risks, and live with the psychological trauma of wondering if today’s aches and pains are tomorrow’s recurrence.
Yes, I still technically have a vagina.
Let’s not pretend it’s functioning.
Imagine if prostate cancer routinely required a 38 year old man to spend a decade without testosterone, infertile, unable to have a normal sex life, and everyone shrugged and said, “At least you’ll be okay.”
There would be outrage.
Instead, women are expected to smile and call ourselves warriors.
I am grateful to be alive.
But gratitude should never require silence.
Breast cancer doesn’t only happen at ASCO or San Antonio. Women are diagnosed every single day. We don’t stop living with this disease between conferences, so why does it feel like the world only pays attention when there’s a major meeting? Why aren’t we demanding faster trials, faster approvals, more funding, and more urgency every single day of the year?
What if survivors rejected the marketing?
What if we stopped allowing this disease to be packaged into something inspirational and started telling people what it actually costs?
Maybe then people would stop thinking breast cancer is “the good cancer” and start seeing it for the public health crisis that it is.
Because patients are getting younger.
Children are losing parents.
Families are being destroyed.
And while our leaders argue over everything else, cancer research, prevention, and better treatments rarely receive the urgency they deserve.
I don’t want another campaign.
I don’t want another slogan.
I want a world where women don’t have to sacrifice so much of themselves just to survive.
So what do we have to do to make people understand?
Should survivors openly reject the color pink this October?
Do we have to start talking openly about what treatment actually does to us?
Do we have to stop protecting people from the uncomfortable truth?
Because after decades of campaigns, people still think breast cancer is “the good cancer.”
Maybe it’s time we stopped making people comfortable and started telling the whole truth.
I‘m bringing my 11 year old to his first show in NYC. I got excited and scooped up 2 first row seats. Will sitting that close be awkward or overwhelming for my shy son? I’m starting to have buyers remorse.
I’m taking my 12 year old to NYC in September. He’s been before but not sure he remembers much. I’m taking him to see a few shows. I bought first row seats to Little Shop of Horrors. I figured he would find it so strange that he may actually be interested. Any recommendations for one or two other shows? I would really like to see Maybe Happy Ending (not sure if he’ll like that) but am open to suggestion. Thanks for the recommendations!
I’m back home from my trip and wanted to thank all of you for helping me navigate my first solo trip after chemo.
I got to see four shows.
First was Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. It was the only thing playing Friday afternoon, and while it wasn’t my favorite show of the weekend, the special effects were incredible. The Harry Potter nostalgia was fun, and getting to see Tom Felton on stage was pretty cool.
Then I was lucky enough to score a front-row seat to Operation Mincemeat. Thank you to everyone who recommended it. It was SO good. I went in completely blind. At first I was a little confused, but about three songs in I was hooked. I completely fell in love with the characters. It ended up being the best thing I saw all weekend and is now up there with my all-time favorites.
On Saturday I saw Chess. I’ve always loved the score, and the cast was phenomenal. I’m so glad I got the chance to see it before it closed.
That night I was torn between Ragtime and Masquerade. I ultimately chose Masquerade because I knew Ragtime would deal with some heavy subject matter, and honestly, this year has been heavy enough. I had absolutely no idea what to expect and was half convinced I had bought a ticket to some cheesy Phantom-themed haunted house. Instead, I was completely blown away. For two hours, I was immersed in the story of Phantom of the Opera. I still don’t know how they pulled it off, but I’m so grateful I got to experience it. It’s something I never would have known about without the recommendations from this group.
Most importantly, for the first time in a couple of years, I got to feel like myself again.
While I’m incredibly thankful for all the suggestions and advice, I’d like to leave you with a little something in return.
I love theater, but for years I put off seeing shows because I didn’t have the time, didn’t have someone to go with, was nervous about going alone, or had a hundred other excuses. Then cancer happened, and one thing it teaches you very quickly is that there isn’t always a “next time.”
So take the trip. See the show. Buy the ticket. Find the joy.
I know I found a little piece of mine this weekend.
I fly out early Monday from Newark. I won Cats tickets for tomorrow evening but was going to head to Newark, NJ after the show to stay at a hotel. ear the airport. is the train from Penn Station to Newark Penn safe at night for a solo female traveler or should I skip the show and head back early?
I have a ticket for this Saturday. We decided to extend our trip a day and was wondering if it was possible to transfer my Saturday ticket to Sunday.Has anyone had any luck getting in touch with the box office or through e mail? It’s been about 48 hours and so far no luck.
So I had a diep flap a year ago- worst decision ever. I think it’s probably great for some but I don’t think that I had enough fat. I feel like I have man hips- have lost my curves. my boobs are smaller- my PS likes smaller boobs- but they don’t fit my frame and make my less feminine hips look worse. she fat graphed from my arms and said she could do a little extra lipo to get rid of that underarm fat that never goes away- now my arms have loose skin. Admittedly, I used to be a gym rat and from being a mom, working full time, doctors appointment, the energy suck from these meds and chemo I try my best to exercise but, you know- it’s not quite the same. Today I mentioned my arms at my year follow-up appointmen. I hate them, I’m thin but i already lost my hair, my boobs, my hips, can’t you at least help with my fucking arms?!? She tells me‘ “I recommend a Pilates studio- why aren’t you going?” I don’t know if I’m pissed at the situation or insulted that she thinks adding another thing to my plate that costs $300 for 4 classes per month is really the answer. Vent over
I used to go to NYC fairly often to see Broadway shows, but then life happened. I had a child, COVID hit, and right before a planned trip I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
After about three years of treatment and recovery, my husband and I were watching the Tonys and I mentioned how much I wanted to see Chess, but it was closing in two weeks. He looked at me and said, “Well, that means you still have two weeks to go see it.” Since he and the kids are going camping next weekend, he suggested I just fly to NYC for a solo trip.
So… I booked a last-minute flight.
I’m flying in Saturday morning with enough time to see Chess and hopefully a matinee, and I’m realizing it’s been so long that I have a million questions:
I haven’t done a solo NYC theater trip in years, so I’d love any advice.
Since being diagnosed I’ve had major impulsivity issues. I’ve always put things off and now I’m in my YOLO era. I’ve always wanted to see a play that’s closing in NYC in a week. My husband is taking the kids camping and I just bought a solo round trip ticket to NYC for a night to see it. I didn’t even think about it- just had the thought- press purchase. I’m not sure if cancer has given me some weird type of freedom or if I need to reel myself in. I know there are crazier things but old me would have never. Anyone else find themselves with a new personality post treatment?
I’m about a year and a half post chemo and my hair is still a mess. I’ve worn wigs in the past and love the way they look but at the end of the day, I’m just over it. is there such a thing as a comfortable wig? if so, any recommendation? I’m on the struggle bus and can really use some help to feel more like myself.
ASCO 2026 just dropped the lidERA premenopausal subgroup data and I don’t think enough people are talking about it.
The headline everyone is citing is a 30% reduction in recurrence or death overall. But in premenopausal women specifically, giredestrant reduced the risk of actually going metastatic by 42% (HR 0.58). That is not the same as overall recurrence. That is the risk of it spreading.
And the joint pain discontinuation rate was 1.5% on giredestrant versus 5% on a standard aromatase inhibitor in premenopausal women. For those of us who know what AI side effects feel like, that number matters.
I just wonder when this is actually going to get approved. We need this ASAP.
Long story short, when I first diagnosed there were questions about a questionable node. I’m told it’s negative- I know I should just listen. I feel like once a month I start to spiral about it. I know a positive node isn’t the end of the world but I am wondering how much it may affect my prognosis. Ive looked at studies, yet I can’t find anything about RS greater than 25. I‘m hoping that maybe is I have a number I could stop being so anxious. Thanks and sorry for the question.
I’m not sure if it’s just me, but my algorithm gives me so many cancer “experts” and one in particular really upsets me. I realize all cancer is bad and traumatic, but this Dr. Amy Morris character is downright predator. Today she is claiming that her doctors gave her a 30% chance of surviving 5 years, yet I read an article about her awhile back saying that the specific ovarian tumor she had had a 95% 5 year survival. Then pretends that her diet kept her alive and charges desperate people thousands to “help.” I just can never imagine. sorry for the rant- I just hate seeing people in the cancer community taken advantage of.
Hi, I hope it’s ok to ask here.
Many moons ago I did my undergrad and started grad school to be an SLP. I was young, and while I wish I would have stuck it out, it just wasn’t what I wanted at the time. I wanted to work with kids in the school setting, but the caseloads seemed impossible (which I’m sure you’re aware of), and I never wanted to work in the medical setting. So I dropped out of grad school to become a sped teacher.
Over the years I went back and got my masters in dyslexia therapy and became a Certified Academic Language Therapist and Licensed Dyslexia Therapist. I love what I do, but we can’t bill insurance the same way an SLP can, which makes my private services out of reach for some families, even when I charge bare bones prices. I do provide scholarships, but I can’t do that for everyone because, well, I have to eat.
Anyway, I’ve started thinking maybe I should go back to school so I can bill insurance. I’m hoping for some advice, or honestly, for someone to tell me if I’m living in a dream land and it really won’t help the situation. Thanks!