Beyond survival: The silent struggle of living after cancer

Let me tell you about a woman I loved. She was strong, brave, and relentless. She beat cancer not once, not twice, but three times. From the outside, it looked like victory. Yet her story did not end in celebration. Her third diagnosis took more than her health. It took her ability to speak, to eat, and to kiss her children without pain. Surgeons cut away half her tongue and throat in an effort to save her life, but in doing so, they stripped away the very things that made her feel alive. Eventually, she did not just lose her voice. She lost her fight. Not to cancer itself, but to everything that came after.

We talk so much about “beating” cancer. We ring bells. We throw parties. We post smiling survivor photos. But what about the days after the last treatment? What about the pain that does not show up in a scan? The scar tissue that makes swallowing a struggle. The anxiety that rises with every cough. The grief of looking in the mirror and not recognizing your own reflection. Survivorship is more than survival. It is waking up in a body that has been through war while carrying a heart that is still searching for peace. We save lives, but we do not always save quality of life. And that must change.

The hidden costs of survivorship ripple far beyond the hospital walls. Physically, survivors often live with nerve damage, chronic fatigue, and the daily frustration of eating or speaking becoming monumental tasks. Emotionally, the toll is just as heavy. She once told me, “I survived cancer, but I lost myself.” That is not resilience talking. That is depression, anxiety, and PTSD. And socially, the silence can be deafening. When her voice changed, people stopped listening. When her appearance changed, friends stopped visiting. She became invisible in a world that celebrated her survival but abandoned her in her struggle. We must stop equating survival with healing.

There are also socioeconomic barriers that survivors face, often with devastating consequences. Many lose jobs because they can no longer perform as they once did. My loved one could not continue working because her speech was impaired. Therapy and specialized care were financially out of reach. Some days she had to choose between medication and groceries. This is not survivorship. It is survival in another form. Cancer care must extend beyond the hospital. Survivorship care is not just about checkups. It is about equity, accessibility, and systemic support. Without it, we set survivors up to fail.

If she were here today, she would not ask for pity. She would ask for progress. Survivors need long-term integrated care that addresses physical, emotional, and social needs together. They need mental health support that is normalized, affordable, and trauma informed. They need financial advocacy to help navigate insurance, employment, and medical costs. And they need community, safe spaces where their whole story is honored, not just the polished parts. Survivorship is not a chapter. It is the rest of their life. And we owe it to them to make that life worth living.

She is gone now, not because she did not fight hard enough, but because our system stopped fighting for her. Her story ended not when the cancer did, but in the gap, we left behind. Yet her voice, though stolen from her, lives on through me. And through you. If you love someone who has survived cancer, or if you are a survivor yourself, then know this. We must do better. We must build a world that values not just the act of living, but the quality of life itself. Let us honor survivors with more than celebrations. Let us honor them with care, dignity, and action. Because surviving cancer should never mean suffering in silence.

She is Debi Lynn, Business Resilience Strategist, Certified Grief Educator with 20 years’ experience.  She helps powerhouse women rise from life’s toughest moments like grief, burnout, loss of identity into power, purpose and profit.   If burnout, loss, or life blindsided you, you’re not broken—you’re buried. And it’s time to unearth your brilliance. She turns setbacks into strategy, pain into profit, and survival into soul-led success. Because you weren’t meant to just push through. You were born to lead with heart, heal with purpose, and build a business that honors your fire. Let’s rebuild your power—on your terms.”   I didn’t just survive pain—I built a business on it.