April 2020 will long be a month I never forget.

This year, on April 15, 2026 we celebrated six years of survivorship. Yes, of all dates to hear, “Sorry, it’s cancer,” mine happened on April 15, most commonly known as Tax Day.

Honestly, it’s fitting and makes me chuckle a bit. As a late December baby, growing up I often heard comments from strangers about, “just making it” as a tax write off baby. Adults say weird things. So wouldn’t it be fitting that a tax write off baby would learn about cancer on tax day. You just can’t make this stuff up.

Early on, we decided as a family there would be purpose with my diagnosis and I would be public about it. The goal always has been and remains the same, to help others. Be it through awareness, honesty or just how to cope - I would be an open book and hopefully in so doing help a person or two.

Through the last six years I have faced my fair share of criticism for sharing my story publicly and that’s okay. Quite simply, I’m not sharing for those people. I’m sharing for the ones who drop an e-mail, shoot me a text, make a call or even stop me in the grocery store to share their story or ask if I have time to talk.

Truthfully, I don’t do it for myself. Many have shared they recognize I do this because it helps me in some way; not really. It was never my goal to be the poster child of sorts for this disease. Yet, as my path has unfolded and my transparency continues, I do feel grateful for those who have trusted me with their questions, concerns and decisions.

Six years ago, I never dreamed I would still be living with the reality of cancer. Diagnosed at Stage 3 and told it was “very aggressive, but treatable,” I fully believed I would check all the boxes, do all the things and be back to regular life in a year and a half. That was not to be my plan.

In June of 2024, following my initial diagnosis and multiple recurrences we learned I was now Stage 4 “Chronic.” Chronic, it would seem, means I’ll be on some sort of chemotherapy for the remainder of my life. Personally, I’m a faith filled girl and I think God has something bigger in store for these doctors (and our readers), but for now I’ll play along.

Now, here’s the part where I could list all the chemotherapies, surgeries and radiation treatments I’ve survived since 2020, but where’s the fun in that. I mean, what do you as the reader gain from knowing my medical history - nothing. Instead, I’d like to share a bit of what I’ve learned in this six year, ongoing, experience.

The first lesson would be, I am indeed stronger than I know. Gosh that sounds arrogant and when in any given moment I truly don’t think about it. However, these past two years I’ve been through some pretty tough stuff. As a result I’ve learned that indeed there are a lot of whiners out there. What I wouldn’t give to have my biggest problem be some of the things I’ve watched friends recover from. The difference of course being there is an end to recovering from a virus, a cold, an injury or surgery - that’s blessing.

My kids are even stronger than their mom. As a single mom this has been anything but easy, most especially when it comes to my kids. Their resilience, love, strength and optimism put me in awe. Sadly, I’ve also learned as a society we are failing by way of teaching compassion. The ugliness I saw at the hands of my kids by way of lack of compassion by others (children and adults) is truly heartbreaking.

When placed on a long road with something like cancer you truly learn who your people are. Not all relationships can withstand the rigors of this size hurdle. That’s a tough one, that I knew to be true from others before my diagnosis and now I’ve learned first-hand. A lot of tears shed from relationships lost.

The flip side to that of course is the beauty you find in true friendship. The true ride or dies who won’t let you forget they got you, just as do them. The friends who don’t get caught up in self-righteousness and are just happy to be with you. If being honest, I’ve shed just as many tears of gratitude for these priceless humans and how blessed I am to have them in my life.

I’ve also had to learn to slow down – significantly – as fatigue is a real thing and doing life as I once did, well I can’t. I tried. I mean, I truly thought I could power through as I once did and landed in the hospital; lesson learned. This has truthfully been the toughest, but I have a great medical team who reminds me of how full my life continues to be and it is.

There’s a lot of other lessons, but this is going long so it must be wrapped up.

So what does all this mean? Truthfully, I have no clue.

What I do know and what I have seen grow stronger in myself and those around me the past six years is - God’s got this under control. Is it what I would wish for myself? Absolutely not. Yet, it is His plan and it is mine to live out. Hence the blessing of being surrounded by angel-like humans and doctors who continue to find treatments that work.

So as I have been called to live this journey and share as I will, God continues to show up and bless us in the biggest of ways. Six years later, cancer or not we remain blessed. Thank you Jesus.

Teresa Hammond is a staff reporter for The Oakdale Leader, The Riverbank News and The Escalon Times. She may be reached at thammond@oakdaleleader.com or by calling 209-847-3021.