Five Things I Learned Since Being Diagnosed with Brain Cancer

Recently, I came across a blog called Life, Death, Whatever, which features a powerful series titled "Five Things." In this space, people share candid reflections on their experiences with life, loss, and everything in between. Reading it stirred something inside me. I felt inspired to add my voice to that space—not as a guru with answers, but as someone navigating the storm of Brain Cancer, one revelation at a time.

Since being diagnosed with Brain Cancer, my world has shifted in ways I never imagined. Some days are crushing. Others are filled with beauty I never used to notice. But through it all, five truths have taken root—lessons that I carry with me like armor and warmth, all at once.

The Profound Impact We Have on Others

More Than We Know

One of the most surprising things I have learned is just how deeply we affect others—even when we do not realize it.

Before my diagnosis, I did not think of myself as particularly central in other people’s lives. I assumed I was just another face in the crowd. But after the news of my condition spread, the outpouring of support shocked me. Friends from high school, coworkers I barely interacted with, even people I had met only once or twice reached out with love, prayers, and stories about how I had touched them.

It made me realize that every word, every act of kindness, and every shared moment leaves a mark. Our presence matters more than we think. We do not always get to know how much, but it does. Brain Cancer has revealed just how wide our personal ripples can reach.

Embracing Impermanence: Letting Go of the Small Stuff

Clarity Through Chaos

Living with Brain Cancer has completely changed how I view stress.

There was a time when I would obsess over dirty dishes in the sink, late email replies, or small household repairs. Now? Those things barely register. When you are fighting for your life, the little annoyances do not stand a chance against the bigger picture.

I have adopted a new mantra: "I don’t give a F@#%."

Now, do not get me wrong—this is not about giving up. It is about letting go of the mental clutter that eats away at peace. Brain Cancer teaches you that your energy is precious. Spend it wisely. Chase joy, not perfection.

Letting go of the little things has been freeing. I do not waste energy worrying about appearances, social media likes, or perfectionism. I say what I mean and let go of the rest. Life is too short to tiptoe around the things that truly do not matter. It is one of the rare gifts Brain Cancer offers—clarity in chaos.

Cherishing the Gift of Family

Love as the Foundation

No lesson has hit home more deeply than this: Family is everything.

Since my diagnosis, my family has become my anchor. Whether it is helping with appointments, bringing over home-cooked meals, or just sitting in silence when I need a moment—they have been my constant. I have learned not to take them for granted.

There is something sacred about the way family shows up during crises. It is not always dramatic. Often, it is quiet, unwavering presence. A hand on your shoulder. A text saying, “How are you holding up?” A hug that says what words cannot.

Life is fragile. Every moment with those we love is gold. I now make time for family dinners, game nights, or just watching a movie together. These are not just simple moments. They are lifelines of love that ground me through treatment and keep my spirits high when the fear creeps in.

The Power of Vulnerability: It's Okay to Cry

Real Strength Looks Different

I used to think crying made me weak. Growing up, I was taught to "tough it out," to keep things bottled up and carry on.

Brain Cancer shattered that illusion.

There have been nights I have cried myself to sleep, days when I could not hide the fear or pain. And you know what? That vulnerability saved me. It allowed others to step in, to help, to remind me I was not alone. It deepened my relationships and softened my own heart.

Being strong is not about never breaking. It is about being real. It is about trusting that the people who love you will still love you—even when you are raw, messy, and scared.

Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is admit we are scared, lost, or in pain. That honesty creates space for healing. And it also reminds others that they are not alone when they feel broken. Vulnerability is a shared bridge back to connection.

Seizing the Moment: Making Memories Matter

Savor the Now

When you live with a terminal illness, time becomes sacred.

Before Brain Cancer, I used to put off the “someday” things. “Someday I’ll take that road trip.” “Someday I’ll get those photos printed.” “Someday I’ll make time to watch the sunset.”

Not anymore.

Now, I make it a point to say yes to joy. I take the trip. I laugh loudly. I take too many pictures. I spend time in nature. I dance when music plays, even if I am tired. I write blogs like this one because if I go tomorrow, I want to know I shared my truth today.

Life is not about stuff. It is about stories, memories, laughter, and connection. Sometimes it is a spontaneous road trip. Other times, it is a slow morning sipping coffee with a friend. Whatever it is, I want to be present for it. I want to look back and know I lived intentionally.

Bonus Lesson: Gratitude in the Grit

Hope in the Smallest Things

I know this is supposed to be a "Five Things" list, but I would be remiss if I did not mention this final takeaway.

Brain Cancer sucks. Let us not sugarcoat it. But within this brutal journey, I have found pockets of gratitude I never knew existed. Gratitude for each breath. Gratitude for good doctors. Gratitude for days without pain. Gratitude for a sunrise I get to see.

Gratitude turns fear into fuel. It does not erase the diagnosis, but it rewires how you live with it. It is a defiant kind of hope. The kind that says, “This moment still matters.”

And when I hold onto that, I realize that even though Brain Cancer has taken a lot, it has also given me a clearer lens to see what is truly important.

What I Hope You Take From This

You Are Not Alone

If you are someone navigating your own cancer diagnosis—or walking beside someone who is—I want you to know something:

You are not alone.

The road is hard, and some days will hurt more than others. But there will be light. There will be laughter. There will be unexpected joy. There will be strength you did not know you had.

Through Five Things I Learned Since Being Diagnosed with Brain Cancer, my hope is to offer a moment of perspective, a breath of hope, or simply a reminder that being human is messy and beautiful at the same time.

You do not have to be brave every second. Just keep showing up. One day, one step, one truth at a time.

Helpful Resources

• National Brain Tumor Society
• American Brain Tumor Association
• JohnVsGBM Blog – for inspiration, survivor stories, and awareness apparel

Tags: Brain Cancer, Glioblastoma Journey, Cancer Reflections, Brain Tumor Awareness, Cancer Survivor Blog, Five Things Series, Emotional Healing, Family and Cancer, Coping with Brain Cancer, Resilience through Illness, Cancer Life Lessons, Mental Strength, Living with Terminal Illness