I will never forget hearing the words, “I’m so sorry to tell you that you have cancer.”

I was in disbelief. I cried and cried. I’d already survived kidney cancer 13 years earlier, and during that short phone call from my family doctor, all the emotions I had previously experienced resurfaced: shock, resentment, fear, sadness, anxiety.

I was devastated.

Processing the Diagnosis

Like many, I had known someone with cancer. My father passed away from esophageal cancer, my mother survived colon cancer and friends had battled breast cancer. While I had journeyed alongside others, I didn’t have the tiniest clue of what would lie ahead of me.

The aftermath of the breast-cancer diagnosis was filled with questions. Has it spread? What physical changes am I facing? How will treatment affect me?

I started writing down thoughts and reflections that included what I was grateful for, Bible references and worship songs—all in an attempt to reduce my anxiety and boost my mental and emotional health.

Meanwhile, I learned about breast cancer, deciphered terms and researched treatment options. I didn’t know anything about ports, chemotherapy or radiation. I relied heavily on my support network, which included family, breast-cancer survivors, colleagues, friends and my church community. I was surrounded by beautiful people and experienced love in many ways.

No Hair?

For me, the first step was surgery. I had every confidence in my surgeon, who, unbeknownst to me, was a Christian.

When I sat in his office for a consultation, a picture of Jesus was on the wall. I said I was a believer, too.

“I’ll do the surgery, and Jesus will heal,” he responded.

God was putting the right people in my life at the right time and for the right reasons.

My surgery took place in August 2023, and a small, cancerous tumour was removed. The contents showed it was aggressive, and my treatment plan immediately changed from radiation only to chemotherapy, including a year’s worth of an infusion every three weeks to help block the ability of cancer cells to grow.

When I heard the word chemotherapy, I was numb, then scared of the effects it would have on me.

At every appointment, I carried a card that had been sent to me and pondered the words of encouragement and Scripture as the drugs travelled through my bloodstream. This helped calm my anxiety. Side effects included severe diarrhea, extreme fatigue and hair loss. It could have been worse—nausea, muscle pain, numb fingers and toes—but I knew people were praying for me and was confident that God was listening.

Hair loss was a side effect I struggled with as I had a thick head of hair. I’ll never forget when, after three treatments, I noticed a clump of hair in the tub. Tearfully, I called for my husband to “get rid of it.” Then it became a daily occurrence.

I had considered shaving my head, but I just couldn’t do it. I opted for a short haircut to help ease the idea that there would eventually be no hair.

I opted for a short haircut to help ease the idea that there would eventually be no hair. LINDA LEIGH

Effects of Treatment

I continued to work full time throughout my treatment to keep my mind off my illness, feel useful and fulfil my job requirements at The Salvation Army’s territorial headquarters in Toronto. Flexibles chedules and remote work options allowed me to do that. I will be forever grateful to my superiors for their accommodation, care and compassion.

Following chemotherapy, I had 20 radiation treatments, one every day, to target and destroy cancer cells and reduce the risk of recurrence. As I lay on the table, and while beams of radiation were directed at me, I recited Scripture over and over. I trusted that God was in control of my health and weary body.

After surgery, chemotherapy and radiation, I believed I was healed. Then a follow-up mammogram showed cancer cells were present. We will never know if they were new or didn’t respond to treatment. The recommended next step was a mastectomy.

In September 2024, surgery was performed. I experienced a wide range of emotions. From sadness and anger to confusion and negative self-image, it took a long time to grieve the loss of my breast and process my feelings.

“God Moments”

Throughout my journey, if I’m being honest, there were times when I didn’t pray or do well at “resting in Him.” It’s hard to stay spiritually strong when you feel terrible. Cancer had become my Goliath, a huge challenge that invaded my first thoughts of the morning and last worries of the night.

Then one day, I received a card from my mother that read: “There’s a saying that God never gives us more burdens than we can bear. And if that’s true, then God must think you’re very, very strong.” I began to look at suffering in a different light and viewed it as an opportunity for intense spiritual growth.

I looked for things to be grateful for. I call them “God moments.” And there were many. A routine test showed a tumour. I had no symptoms. When my eyebrows fell out, I received a card that said: “God won’t give you more than you can handle. He might let you bend. But He won’t let you break.” A relative sent a water bottle with the words: “Keep chugging. Don’t give up.” And the list goes on.

Life Today

My experience with cancer has been a long, winding and sometimes confusing path. I think I will always fear tests, and I pray that will ease over time. I still struggle with physical limitations in one arm, but that should improve, and I take a small pill every day to stop bad cells from growing or spreading.

And I have a great head of hair.

When I look back, I never wanted to be stuck in the dark valley of cancer. It is part of my story but not the whole story.

I’m still me—a wife, a daughter, a sibling, a child of God.

Reprinted from When God Weaves His Story Into Ours, compiled by Gladys Thompson, The Salvation Army Oshawa Temple, 2025

For more information on The Salvation Army's Oshawa Temple's Life Stories project, read this Salvationist article.

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