Riding The Wave

Written By Breanna Bortner

“Aren’t you just so excited for all of this to be over?

“Now that you’re through the worst of it, you can just put it all behind you.”

“Now that treatment is done, you can move on with your life.”

These are statements I often heard towards the end of my active treatment and surgeries. These are statements said by people who haven’t experienced cancer, at least not in the way that I did.

My question for them is: How do you just “move on” when the treatment that saved your life also gave you three chronic autoimmune conditions that you have to manage with timely medication every day, for the remainder of your days?

How do you move on when your life-saving surgeries left you with 20 scars scattered across your body, in which curious strangers ask: “so, what happened there?”

How does one move on when parts of your body have been taken, then pieced back together, and the home you once lived in, your body, no longer feels like yours?

How do you just move on when your hair is currently two different lengths and three different textures after you lost half of it during your battle?

The truth is: you don’t move on and forget what happened to you. You just move forward.
With grief.
With gratitude.

Healing means you must continue holding space for both.

Because to move forward means you honor all of it, the pain, the growth, the setbacks, the scars, the lessons. It means acknowledging what you’ve been through and allowing it to shape who you’re becoming.

And in the spirit of moving forward, I wanted to share what life has looked like lately. It’s been a few months since I’ve given an update on here, so here’s a look at some of the waves I’ve been riding recently.

catching new waves

What a gift it is to even exist and be given the opportunity to have new experiences and celebrate great milestones.

On March 17th I celebrated 1 year cancer free. This was the day of my double mastectomy in 2024 and was the first time I was told that there was no evidence of disease after my course of treatment. Technically, you are a cancer survivor once you have been diagnosed with cancer. So, you will find that some people use their diagnosis date, others use their last date of treatment, but I use this date as it resonates the most with me.

I shared these words in my Facebook Post:

1 Year Cancer Free!

607 days ago, my world shifted with a shocking breast cancer diagnosis that changed my life, my body, and my perspective in ways I never could have imagined.

Today, I celebrate 1 year in remission. In the cancer community, these milestones are never taken for granted. They are hard-won, deeply felt, and sacred.

But this fight didn’t end with my last chemo. It didn’t end with my double mastectomy. It didn’t even end when the final pathology report came back with no evidence of disease. The reality of triple negative breast cancer is that the fight continues - every day. It’s known for being aggressive, with the highest chance of recurrence within the first 3-5 years. And so, I celebrate this not just for myself, but for every warrior who understands the magnitude of these milestones.

I honor this milestone for the girl who, 607 days ago, was terrified for her life. I share it to bring hope to those who are still fighting the good fight. And I cherish it for those who don’t get the chance to celebrate another year.

607 bonus days. Because when you’ve made peace with the life you’ve lived, every day after that is a bonus.

Another huge milestone I am also extremely grateful for is my recent return trip to Australia. This is something that I’ve been dreaming about (literally) for the last 11 years. It felt amazing to finally get back there after it felt like so many roadblocks had been stopping me. This time, there were no excuses - no corporate jobs, no wedding obligations, no global pandemics, no cancer-related treatments or appointments. I spent two weeks living my best life and traveling throughout both Western Australia and New South Wales. I saw old friends, new faces, and explored both new and old places. A piece of my heart will always be in Australia.

Returning to Australia with a new lens, a renewed sense of life, and actual money this time was something my soul needed. It felt so fulfilling.

Although, packing for trips looks a little different now. Nausea meds? Check. Motion sickness meds? Check. Steroid injections & syringes? Check. And a proper supply (plus extra just in case) of levothyroxine, hydrocortisone, fludrocortisone, DHEA, turkey tail mushrooms, digestive enzymes, magnesium, sertraline? Check. Check. Check.

This spring and summer has been filled with client work, a trip to see friends in Indiana, attending a Women’s Wellness Event as a breast cancer advocate, a girls trip to Virginia, my cousins wedding in Montana, a funeral for my sweet, sweet 95 year old grandpa, meetings with cancer researchers for exciting new studies, and weekends with family at the cabin. It’s going quite fast compared to last summer, when I was slowly rebuilding my business, fighting my way out of fatigue and combating chemo brain.

I’ve found that time moves super slow when you’re going through it. But when you have your health and are busy, time goes by in the blink of an eye.

making ripples in the media

A few months ago I was approached to share my story to The Daily Mail after they saw a post of mine on TikTok. The angle of the story was Mochi’s (my 4-year-old cockapoo’s) behaviors towards me before, during, and after my cancer diagnosis. I told them my story, shared some photos, and went on my way.

Within a week or so I was alerted that my story had been published in The Daily Mail. Afterwards, I was also notified that many other news outlets such as Yahoo! Life, The New York Post, and The Economic Times had picked it up. I was approached by other outlets such as Fox News where I got to do a video interview (& even the freaking Oprah Winfrey Podcast you guys!) I ended up not being chosen for that one, but it was still a cool experience to be considered.

Recent Publications:

We recently had a contractor who came into our home and was greeted by Mochi at the door. He then said, “Is that the dog I saw on Facebook that could smell breast cancer?! Is that really him in the flesh?” It made me smile. Truth be told, from time to time, I still have Mochi do little “check-ups” on me when I have a fear of recurrence.

This is a testament to how the ripples of just one conversation, for one media outlet, can turn into something greater. My story went from being featured on my personal TikTok account, to the Daily Mail, to Fox News, to Snapchat, to the NY Times Instagram, and then all the way over to a physical magazine in Australia. I openly share my story here, within these articles, and on TikTok because it’s a way for me to process things. It keeps my head clear. And if I happen to help just a few people in the process, I call that a win.

Awareness is awareness, no matter the form.

how tides change: Becoming a Mentor

Before I started treatment in September 2023, I had phone calls with other young people who had experienced cancer before me. These people were my inspiration and role models. My main source of advice and insider info, which you just don’t get at the doctor’s office. They made me feel seen and not like an outlier, as I stood among 70-90 year olds at my cancer center in the small town I live in.

Then, during my treatment, I was incredibly blessed to have a support system made up of people who truly understood what I was going through. I was matched with two mentors through the Firefly Sisterhood, connected with a friend-of-a-friend in California, and formed a bond with someone I met on TikTok. I also leaned on another friend, a fellow Hormel wife, who was diagnosed with a different form of cancer around the same time. These people were my go-to people for questions, complaints, comfort, and ideas for navigating treatment.

The tides shifted quickly after I was in remission, and I found myself stepping into the role of mentor for others navigating new diagnoses and active treatment. It’s incredible how fast the transition happens, from mentee to mentor, from being the one asking questions to becoming the one offering answers, encouragement, and hope.

From the very beginning, I understood that being diagnosed with something like this at a young age meant I’d likely become a point of contact for others facing similar battles. And I welcome that, because the heartbreaking truth is that 1 in 8 women will receive a breast cancer diagnosis in their lifetime. My story isn’t the end, it’s just the beginning of a lifelong connection to a community that no one asks to join, but that so many end up needing (& this club truly has the best members!)

Recently, I was able to make a larger impact than I had known was possible, which was a reminder that the experiences and knowledge I gained throughout my cancer journey were not in vain. They had a greater purpose.

Last fall, I met someone in our community who was diagnosed with stage 2b triple negative invasive ductal carcinoma (sound familiar?!) I immediately reached out and let her know I was happy to chat and be someone she could lean on. I was even happier when she took me up on it and since then we have exchanged numerous text messages and conversations about navigating cancer.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, when I noticed it was quiet on her end. I knew she had completed 14/16 treatments and was close to finishing up. But she had recently had some setbacks, as we know: nobody’s cancer journey is linear. She wasn’t posting updates or active on socials, and I hadn’t heard from her in a bit.

Trust, I know from firsthand experiences that when you’re going through it, like really going through it, you can’t even bare to look at your phone, you just lay there with an applesauce pouch in your mouth staring off into the dark abyss hoping for brighter days ahead.

So, I reached out to her only to find she was indeed GOING THROUGH IT and was currently hospitalized. She was super fatigued (beyond chemo fatigued) and unexplainably vomiting (which is rare this far out from your last chemo). As she explained her symptoms, a light bulb lit up inside me. Ding ding, these were my exact same symptoms I had when I was hospitalized in November 2023 and diagnosed with adrenal insufficiency/Addison’s disease.

So I asked her if the doctors had run an ACTH test, one that shows the level of hormone in the blood that stimulates the adrenal glands to produce cortisol. She said she didn’t know. I instructed her to check her online portal and search for it.

A few minutes later I got a screenshot from her of an ACTH test in the 500s, when the normal range is 7.2-63. Mine was in the 800’s when I was told about my autoimmune condition, so I replied with two words, and two words only:

“OH SHIT.”

I then followed up by saying: “You’re vomiting because you’re in an adrenal crisis.”. She then pinged the doctor to look at the result because “her friend said so” and was immediately written off by an arrogant doctor who didn’t like to be told how to do his job.

But within 10 minutes he poked his head back in her hospital room and said endocrinology and oncology were on their way to see her - because it’s a very alarming result.

Pretty soon I got a follow up text saying: “I think you may have saved my life! Like literally. They are getting ready to start steroids and they have told me I’ll be on two pills a day for the rest of my life.”

I didn’t go to school for 15 years to be a doctor. But I do have firsthand knowledge of what an adrenal crisis feels and looks like. And that a result in the portal that says “abnormal” should probably be looked into. Ugh.

Welcome to the adrenal insufficiency club, Emily! I’m so sorry you’re here but so happy we have each other to lean on.

I don’t believe in coincidences anymore. Because the timing of things, like this situation, it’s just too much. She had so many messages to reply to on her phone, and how she mustered up the energy to reply to me on that day in the middle of her hospitalization, beats me.

Needless to say, my experiences were able to shorten her misery and speed up the process to getting life-saving doses of steroids. And that, to me, means that everything I went through was worth it. If you want to read more about my friend Emily’s experience with breast cancer and learn more about this story from her point of view, you can check it out on her blog.

Moving Forward, Not Just On

You might be thinking, “Breanna, aren’t moving on and moving forward the same thing?”

Nope.

According to Google:
While both "moving on" and "moving forward" imply progress, they aren't quite the same.
"Moving on" often suggests leaving something behind, like closing a door, detaching emotionally, and stepping away from the past.
"Moving forward," on the other hand, means continuing with your life while carrying what you've been through. It’s progress that honors the journey, not erases it.

And that distinction matters to me.

As a cancer survivor, I don’t want to leave it all behind. I don’t want to pretend the diagnosis, the surgeries, the health changes, the scars, the fear, or the lessons didn’t shape me. Because they did…and they still do.

I love the response that Angelina Jolie gave during an interview when she was asked: What advice do you have for someone going through a tough time?

She responded: “Go right through it, like right through it. Feel it. Be in it. Don’t avoid it. Go completely in it, feel everything, then go right through it and out the other end.

I choose to move forward because I want to take my experiences with me.
I want to use them to connect, to advocate, to mentor, and to live with a deeper purpose.
I don’t suppress my feelings or pretend everything is “back to normal.”
I process. I speak openly. I cry randomly when it’s all too much. I carry it all, not as baggage, but as part of who I am.

Some seasons feel like I’m being pulled under by a wave I never saw coming.

Other times, I’m riding the wave with the sun on my face, fully alive, savoring every. single. moment (preferably I would be doing this in Australia)

But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: the only way out is through.

You can’t skip the hard parts, you have to feel them and trust you’ll surface again.

Cheers to riding the wave,

Xo, Breanna

Breanna Bortner
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