THE FOUR PHASES OF CANCER

This is not a clinical framework.
It’s the terrain as I have lived it and walked it with others.

You may not experience it exactly like this.
But if parts of it resonate, you will know.

PHASE ONE - Landing & Diagnosis

What happened
You sat in front of a doctor or oncologist and heard the words:
“You have cancer.”

I remember that moment feeling like the air changed.
Everything looked the same, but nothing felt the same.

What it can feel like
Shock. Fear. Disbelief. Panic.
A strange numbness.
A new reality you did not choose.

The next hurdle
Finding or committing to a medical practitioner or team.

What’s obvious
You need to accept where you are, at least enough to take the next step.
Some people seek a second opinion. Sometimes that brings peace. Sometimes it brings more questions.

What’s less obvious
You can be terrified and still look calm.
You might find yourself managing your own emotions quietly so you don’t fall apart.
You may even manage other people’s emotions by projecting strength.

When people call you brave, it can feel oddly disconnected from what is actually happening inside.

When you are most vulnerable
Everything has changed.
There may be terror. There may be numbness. There may be distraction.

You don’t have control right now.
And it’s ok to not know.
It’s ok to feel overwhelmed.

This phase is not about being strong.
It’s about allowing what is true to be true.

PHASE TWO - Decision Making

What happened
Now you need to decide what treatment path to follow. Traditional. Alternative. Integrative. Some combination.

What it can feel like
Anxiety. Irritability. Fear. Dis association.
For many, this is the most frightening part of the journey.

The next hurdle
Agreeing to a plan. Committing to something that carries weight.

What’s obvious
You need to decide on treatment and, if relevant, supportive therapies.

What’s less obvious
Even with a good prognosis, the decision can feel life or death.
That pressure often sits in the background.

Some people decide quickly.
Others feel paralysed.

Neither response is wrong.

In my experience, when everything feels loud, the body often still knows something. Not perfectly. Not with certainty. But there is usually a subtle yes or no beneath the noise.

When you are most vulnerable
You are being asked to make big decisions in one of the most vulnerable states of your life.

You don’t need to get it perfect.
You need enough steadiness to take the next step.

Often, making small confident decisions restores a sense of agency. And from there, the bigger decisions feel less overwhelming.

PHASE THREE - Treatment Resilience

What happened
You chose a plan. Now you are on it.
There may be a clear end date. Or a “let’s see how this goes” ending.

Either way, it can feel like stepping onto a roller coaster.

What it can feel like
Determined. Jittery. Uncertain. Anxious. Hopeful.
Sometimes all in one day.

The next hurdle
Moving through treatment with your mind, body, and emotions intact.
Navigating side effects. Waiting for results. Managing uncertainty.

What’s obvious
Good days feel hopeful. Difficult days can feel destabilising.

What’s less obvious
The emotional highs and lows can be extreme.
Symptoms shift. Energy shifts. Thoughts shift.

It is hard not to attach to good news.
It is hard not to spiral with difficult news.

This phase requires a kind of resilience that is less about toughness and more about regulation.

When you are most vulnerable
You will not always know how you are going to feel from one moment to the next.

Connection becomes medicine here.
So does protecting your mental space.

Not everyone who means well is good for your nervous system.
Your emotional health is sacred.

PHASE FOUR - Post Treatment Integration

(Oh sh#t… what now?)

This is the phase no one prepares you for.

Treatment ends.
People celebrate.
You are expected to feel grateful and relieved.

Sometimes you do.

And sometimes you feel anxious. Flat. Hyper aware of every sensation.
Or strangely lost.

Your body has been through war.
Your nervous system has been on high alert for months.
Now the medical intensity slows down, and you are left with yourself.

What it can feel like
Relief mixed with fear.
Gratitude mixed with anger.
Hope mixed with hyper vigilance.

You survived.
But you are not the same.

The next hurdle
Rebuilding trust in your body.
Re establishing rhythm.
Creating a way of living that supports long term health rather than reacting to crisis.

What’s less obvious
Old coping strategies often reappear here.
Overworking. Suppressing emotion. People pleasing. Control. Avoidance.

This is NOT because you are weak.
Your nervous system is trying to feel safe again.

This is where integration matters.

This is where deeper work begins.

If you find yourself thinking:
“I survived… but I don’t feel steady.”
“I want to understand what this did to me emotionally.”
“I don’t want to go back to how I was living before.”

Then this phase is an invitation.

This is the space where WholeHealth Renewal was born.

Not from theory.
From walking this terrain myself.

If any part of this resonates, reach out.
You don’t have to navigate this next chapter alone.