This year, I joined the Komen community and registered for the Susan G. Komen MORE THAN PINK Walk for the first time.  

On October 16, 2018, I was diagnosed with Invasive Ductal Carcinoma with Associated Ductal Carcinoma In Situ. My cancer was ER-positive, PR-positive, HER2-negative, a subtype that responds well to hormone therapy and carries a relatively high survival rate when caught early. Statistically, I had reason to hope. But emotionally, I was reeling.

I had no family history of breast cancer. I tested negative for the BRCA gene. There was no warning, no roadmap. And yet, there I was facing four surgeries, two months of radiation, and five years of cancer medication that would push my body to its limits.

The medication was supposed to protect me. And it did. But it also came with a price. I experienced extreme pain in my legs, and my feet became so tender and inflamed that walking felt like punishment. Every step reminded me that healing isn't always linear and that survival sometimes means enduring what others can't see.

Still, I know my journey was comparatively easy. I didn't need chemotherapy. I had access to excellent care. I had a timeline, a last day of radiation on May 20, 2019, that marked the beginning of my cancer-free life. And I had the privilege of completing my five-year medication course in 2024.

But what changed me most wasn't just the treatment, it was the people. Since my diagnosis, I've come to know so many women affected by this disease. Some were diagnosed young, some late. Some faced recurrence, others lifelong side effects. Their stories are etched into me. Their strength, their humor, their honesty, they've become part of my own survival.

Today, I'm six years cancer-free. And I'm deeply thankful for the research, the science, and the advocacy that made that possible. Treatments for hormone receptor-positive breast cancer have come a long way. I'm living proof of that progress.

I carry the pain, but I also carry the gratitude. And I share my story not because it's extraordinary, but because it's real. Because someone else might be walking through fire right now, wondering if they'll ever feel normal again. And I want them to know: healing is possible. Even when it hurts.

Please consider making a tax-deductible donation today in support of my fundraising efforts. 

With immense gratitude, Rischel