My Wake Up Call

At 41, everything stopped.

I was at a restaurant with my siblings when my phone rang. The doctor's voice on the other end said the words: "You have cancer."

Stage 1, Grade 3 breast cancer.

Wait—didn't my doctor just tell me a few weeks ago that I was overreacting? That the lump was probably nothing?

Because I was a BRCA1 carrier, they biopsied it. Otherwise, we likely would have waited six months to monitor what turned out to be a growing tumor. The "surveillance" I thought was keeping me safe had nearly let cancer slip through.

My doctors laid out the standard path: double mastectomy, chemotherapy, reconstruction. And they wanted to move fast—surgery scheduled for three weeks out.

I didn't refuse immediately. I went home and cried. But the next day, my achiever kicked in.

I started desperately searching for alternatives to chemotherapy. Deep down, I knew chemo wasn't healing—it was killing. And it doesn't discriminate between cancer cells and healthy cells. There had to be another way.

The very next day, I found it.

I discovered The Metabolic Approach to Cancer by Dr. Nasha Winters through a podcast with Dr. Mindy Pelz, my favorite fasting guru. Within weeks, I was working with a Terrain practitioner who understood what I was trying to do.

But when I told my oncologist I was refusing chemotherapy, her response was chilling:

"You're being short-sighted. This could metastasize, and we won't be able to help you."

Short-sighted?

I was 41 years old. Success with chemo is measured in 5-year survival rates. Maybe 10 years if you're lucky.

I didn't want 5 years of survival. I want 30 years of vibrant, healthy living.

To me, that wasn't short-sighted. That was the longest view possible.

I was terrified. And I was confident.

Terrified that I was making the wrong choice, that I couldn't do it all on my own, that everyone would think I was crazy. But confident that poisoning my body to kill cancer wasn't healing—it was just another way of ignoring my terrain.

So I moved forward. I had the double mastectomy and reconstruction. And then I dove deep into understanding my metabolic terrain.

I worked with practitioners trained in the metabolic approach. After surgery, I did my first 3-day water fast—and it was empowering. I could feel my body healing, not just surviving.

I got comprehensive labs. I learned about mitochondrial function, epigenetics, and how my lifestyle had created the perfect environment for cancer. I discovered that healing meant addressing the root cause, not just attacking the tumor.

I stopped being a passive patient and became the CEO of my health.

Looking back, I wish I'd slowed down. Three weeks from diagnosis to surgery felt like a tornado. But the system pushes you to move fast, to be scared, to comply.

That decision—to understand my terrain instead of just following orders—gave me back my agency, my energy, and my hope.

And it lit a fire in me to help other women navigate this journey with more time, more information, and more support than I had.