In January 2023, I had a 4.1 kg dedifferentiated retroperitoneal liposarcoma removed from my stomach cavity, along with my right kidney. Now, almost two years post-surgery, I’m 51 years old and grateful every day to be here sharing my journey. My symptoms included weight gain, bloating, stomach tightness, weak bladder, loss of appetite, and pain when lying on my stomach. I assumed it was menopause and tried various diets to lose weight, but I kept gaining despite eating less. Finally, after my sister urged me, I decided to get it checked.
The day I was diagnosed with cancer was the most surreal experience of my life. It felt impossible — cancer happened to other people, not me. I came from a family of longevity; my grandparents lived well into their late 90’s. I’m a personal trainer, eat well and exercise regularly. How could I, of all people, end up here?
After hearing the news, I locked myself in my room, sobbing uncontrollably, feeling utterly alone. I didn’t want to hear, “You’ve got this,” or, “You’re strong.” All I felt was shock, fear, and overwhelming sadness. I didn’t know if I’d need chemo, if I’d ever feel like myself again, or if my life was about to end. I felt like I was already mourning a life I hadn’t even finished living.
I’m a practical person by nature, and once the initial shock wore off, I needed a plan. I wanted to record my journey, initially as a diary for my sons, because at that point, I was convinced I wouldn’t survive. As a self-described “control freak,” feeling so powerless was terrifying. My surgeon called my cancer “bad luck”—no link to genetics or lifestyle, just a random occurrence that made me question everything I’d believed about health and wellness.
The month leading up to my surgery the fear and helplessness was intense, especially at night, but I clung to what I could control. I kept going to the gym, using exercise as a way to prepare my body for the upcoming surgery and its aftermath. Exercise became my lifeline, a way to channel my fear into something tangible and constructive.
Cancer changed my perspective on fitness. Before, exercise was about aesthetics—sculpting my body and competing in figure competitions. In the brief time before surgery, my workouts became less about how I looked and more about preparing for the hardest battle of my life. Today, it’s about reclaiming strength and preparing for whatever comes next, focusing on functionality and control. Exercise has major benefits in cancer recovery. The American Cancer Society and the National Cancer Institute¹, report that exercise reduces inflammation, boosts energy, improves mental health, and helps manage weight—factors that may reduce recurrence risk. This journey now goes beyond physical health; it’s about building mental and emotional resilience too.
Emotionally, the journey has been even harder. Fear of recurrence looms large, especially given the high recurrence rates for dedifferentiated liposarcoma. The Cleveland Clinic² emphasizes that this cancer often returns even after complete removal. This isn’t just a statistic—it’s a reality that I live with every day. Balancing fear with wellness and resilience is a constant effort. I focus on what I can control, practicing meditation, mindfulness, and breathing techniques to keep a positive mindset. Early on, I began sharing my journey to cope and leave something meaningful behind. I quickly found that sharing wasn’t just helping me; it was helping others who were also struggling. People began reaching out, sharing that they, too, felt lost and alone. This connection transformed everything— my story became a source of hope and guidance. Through social media, I found purpose as a “survival guide,” offering tips, exercise routines, and wellness strategies.
In terms of nutrition, I didn’t overhaul my diet drastically because I already ate well, and lifestyle wasn’t the cause of my cancer. However, because liposarcomas start in fat cells, I decided to cut out anything that manipulated fat metabolism, like fat burners, and stopped using low-fat products. Today, I focus on nutrient-dense foods, prioritize hydration, especially for kidney health, and practice intuitive eating. I include the occasional cocktail or pizza because enjoying life is part of my healing.
Cancer, for me, feels as though life tapped me on the shoulder, forcing me to look at the path I was on and take a different one. Before my diagnosis, I drifted through life, convinced I had all the time in the world. Cancer changed that.
Today, I live with intention, purpose, and a renewed excitement for the possibilities ahead. If you’re just starting this journey, remember you’re not alone—support is out there. Feel your emotions, but know that cancer doesn’t have to be the end of your story. I’m proof things can improve. Focus on what you can control, be kind to yourself, and prioritize self-care. Don’t let fear or cancer hold you back from living the life you truly deserve.
¹American Cancer Society. Guideline for Diet and Physical Activity for Cancer Prevention. https://www.cancer.org/ National Cancer Institute. Physical Activity and Cancer. Available at: https://www.cancer.gov/ “Liposarcoma.”
²Cleveland Clinic, https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/diseases/21142-liposarcoma
