top of page
Dry Fields

Back to Normal?

Updated: Aug 2

"Normal" is what most of us long for after a cancer diagnosis...is that possible?
"Normal" is what most of us long for after a cancer diagnosis...is that possible?

by Cynthia Dano


Hello and welcome (or welcome back!) I am a two-time cancer survivor, Wellness and Radical Remission coach, and cancer mentor, what I like to call a Cancer Doula. In that capacity, I help others navigate their cancer journey by helping them implement healing strategies into their lives. 


In these blogs, I will pass on some tips or info that have been useful for me or my clients. 


PART ONE: I Just Want Things to Go Back to Normal

“I just want things to go back to normal.”

It’s a phrase I’ve heard from my clients in treatment, survivors years out, and whispered from my own heart during dark moments.

When you're going through cancer—whether it's chemo week, scan week, or just another Tuesday that doesn't feel like it used to—your body and your life are no longer your own in the same way. Everything gets interrupted. Disrupted. Rearranged.


You may long for the days when life was boring. When your biggest concern was what to make for dinner—not whether your white blood cell count would bounce back.You want your body to feel familiar again. You want your calendar to stop being color-coded with appointments. You want to trust your energy, your appetite, your sleep. Your life.

This desire is so human. So deeply understandable. It’s not a weakness. It’s a sign that you remember what life felt like when it wasn’t constantly overshadowed by uncertainty or survival mode.

And yet… what if that old normal isn’t available anymore?


It’s okay to grieve that.In fact, it’s healthy to name that loss. We often talk about the physical toll of cancer, but not the emotional one that comes with having your life hijacked. There’s no shame in missing your old rhythms, your old routines, your old self.

You’re not alone in feeling this. And you're not wrong for wanting it.

But the story doesn’t end there.


PART TWO: Back to Normal? Maybe Not—and That’s Okay

When the chemo ends, the scans stabilize, or the treatment plan finally gives you a little breathing room—another strange chapter begins. People ask if you’re “better now.” If you’re “back to normal.”


And maybe you say, “I’m getting there.” But what you might really be thinking is:What even is normal now? And do I really want to go back to it?

The truth is, cancer changes you—whether you're living with it, recovering from it, or carrying it with you into an uncertain future.You are not who you were before. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.


Maybe the old “normal” was overloaded. Or disconnected. Or didn’t leave space for joy or reflection or your own needs.Maybe it ran on autopilot.And maybe, just maybe, this experience cracked something open that’s asking you to live more honestly.

You might not be able to go back.But you can go forward.

Not to the life you had, but to a life that’s more aligned.More present.More true to what matters most to you now.


This isn’t about silver linings or spiritual bypassing. It’s about acknowledging that healing isn’t always a return. Sometimes, it’s a transformation.

So if your life still feels unfamiliar, or you're trying to stitch together a new rhythm after (or during) cancer—you’re not doing it wrong. You’re just in the becoming. And the becoming is brave.


PART THREE: Redefining Normal — What Now?

So maybe “back to normal” isn’t the destination.Maybe it was never meant to be.

If you’ve read the last two reflections, you know you’re not alone in wanting your life to feel familiar again. You also know that “normal” may not return in the same shape, rhythm, or speed. And that’s where the hard—and hopeful—work begins.

This third part isn’t just a reflection. It’s an invitation.

If you can’t go back to normal, what do you want instead?What would it look like to redefine normal for this season of your life?


Here’s what I’ve learned: when life has been uprooted—by cancer, by grief, by uncertainty—we don’t need to rebuild the exact same house. We get to choose what comes with us and what doesn’t.


A New Kind of Normal

Your new normal might include:

  • Saying “no” more often—and meaning it.

  • Slowing down and not apologizing for it.

  • Reaching out sooner.

  • Building in more joy, more rest, more breath.

  • Letting yourself be messy as you figure it out.

This isn’t about being positive all the time. It’s about being present.

A Few Questions to Gently Explore:

Pick one, or none, or all.

  • What did cancer strip away that you never actually want back?

  • What do you now value more than ever?

  • If you had 10% more energy or clarity—what would you do with it?

  • What boundaries do you want to build into your new normal?

  • What are 3 things that give you a sense of okayness, even on hard days?

You Get to Choose

Redefining “normal” isn’t a one-time decision. It’s a process.It doesn’t require clarity overnight. Just honesty and a little courage.(And if you’re still in treatment? This still applies. You can start planting seeds now—even if it’s just imagining what kind of life you’d like to grow when the soil is ready.)

Your life might not look like everyone else’s.But what if it finally looks like yours?


Need someone to talk to? I offer a free cancer mentoring session—whether you're in treatment, in recovery, or in reinvention. You don’t have to figure it all out alone.


Check out my book, Uprooted, which details my ovarian cancer recurrence.

コメント


bottom of page