10 Things That Helped Me Through Cancer (That Weren’t Medicine)

When people hear “cancer essentials,” they usually think about medications. Those mattered. But they weren’t the only things that got me through treatment.

Sometimes it was the tiny things. The products that made one bad day just a little easier. The routines that made me feel like myself again. These aren’t miracle cures. They’re simply the things I reached for over and over again.

Hydration became my full-time job.

If there’s one habit that completely changed after breast cancer, it was drinking water.

Before treatment, I’d go half the day without thinking about it. Then chemotherapy came along, and suddenly hydration wasn’t just something that was “good for you.” It became part of taking care of my body every single day. My nurses constantly reminded me to drink as much water as I could. Staying hydrated helped flush the medications through my system, supported my kidneys, eased some of the fatigue, and honestly just helped me feel a little more human on the harder days. It quickly became one of those things I actually had to pay attention to.

These days, you’ll almost always find me carrying around a giant water bottle. If I don’t keep it within arm’s reach, I simply won’t drink enough. Between homeschooling, chasing after two girls, filming content, and trying to remember what’s for dinner, it’s surprisingly easy to realize it’s 3:00 in the afternoon and you’ve barely had a few sips.

One thing that has made staying hydrated much easier is Buoy Hydration Drops. (Affiliate link — at no additional cost to you.) I first started using Buoy during treatment, and they’ve stayed part of my routine ever since. I love that they’re virtually tasteless, easy to add to whatever I’m drinking, and don’t contain all the sugar that many electrolyte drinks do. It’s one of those tiny habits that doesn’t feel like extra work, which means I’m much more likely to stick with it.

Hydration may seem like such a small thing, but after everything my body has been through, I’ve learned that the little choices really do add up. Drinking enough water isn’t about being perfect—it’s simply one of the easiest ways I can take care of myself so I have more en

Protein Became a Priority

If hydration became my full-time job, protein became my backup plan.

During treatment, I heard the same thing over and over again: “Try to get more protein.” It helps your body repair itself, supports healing, and can make a difference when you’re recovering from surgery or treatment. The problem? There were plenty of days when eating an actual meal felt impossible.

Even now, life gets busy. Between homeschooling, doctor’s appointments, recording meditations, editing videos, and chasing after two little girls, it’s easy to realize lunchtime has come and gone. If I don’t intentionally include protein early in my day, I know I’m going to feel it later.

One of my favorite little routines has become making a protein coffee. I usually mix Everyday Dose with a scoop of protein powder, and it honestly feels like the best of both worlds. (Affiliate link — at no additional cost to you.) I still get to enjoy my morning coffee, but now it’s also helping me stay full while giving my body something nourishing to start the day.

Recently, Everyday Dose also released their own Protein Coffee, and I’ve been really enjoying that too. It has the same smooth flavor I already loved, but with the added convenience of having everything together in one cup. On especially busy mornings, it’s one less thing I have to think about.

I’ve also learned that not every meal has to be Pinterest-worthy. Some days breakfast is eggs and toast. Other days it’s Greek yogurt with fruit. Lunch might be leftovers, a wrap, cottage cheese with veggies, or whatever I can put together in ten minutes while someone asks me for another snack. Real life doesn’t always leave room for elaborate recipes, and I’ve made peace with that.

One thing breast cancer taught me is that nourishing your body doesn’t have to look perfect. Sometimes taking care of yourself is as simple as drinking your coffee, getting enough protein, and remembering to eat before you’re running on empty. Those small choices may not seem exciting, but over time they’ve become some of the most important parts of my morning routine.

Comfortable clothes matter more than you think.

A few years ago, I probably would’ve chosen clothes based on how they looked. Now? I choose them based on how they feel.

Breast cancer has a funny way of changing your priorities. After surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation, there were days when even the softest T-shirt felt uncomfortable. My body needed gentleness, and I found myself reaching for clothes that didn’t squeeze, rub, or make me constantly aware of what I’d been through. Even now, long after treatment, comfort still wins.

Working from home, homeschooling my girls, filming content, writing blog posts, and spending way too much time editing videos means I’m rarely dressing up just to sit at my computer. Most days you’ll find me in leggings, an oversized sweatshirt, messy hair, and a cup of coffee nearby—and honestly, I’ve stopped apologizing for it.

One brand I’ve genuinely come to love is Comfrt. (Affiliate link — at no additional cost to you.) Their hoodies and sweatpants are incredibly soft, oversized in all the right ways, and somehow manage to feel like you’re wrapped in your favorite blanket without looking sloppy. They’re the clothes I reach for on busy homeschool mornings, editing days, or whenever I simply want to feel comfortable in my own skin.

I’ve realized that getting dressed isn’t always about looking put together. Sometimes it’s about choosing clothes that let you move freely, sit comfortably through a doctor’s appointment, cuddle your kids on the couch, or simply make it through the day feeling a little more at ease. Those little comforts matter.

Because when life already asks a lot from you, it’s okay to let your clothes be one less thing you have to think about.

Walking outside changed my mood.

One of the best things I do for myself every morning doesn’t require a gym membership or a workout plan. I simply step outside.

Sometimes it’s only for five or ten minutes. I’ll take my coffee onto the porch, watch the girls play in the backyard, or walk around the neighborhood while listening to the birds. I’m not trying to burn calories or hit a certain number of steps. I’m just giving myself permission to slow down.

It’s amazing how much a little fresh air can change the way a morning feels. The sunshine, the breeze, the sound of leaves moving in the trees… it helps quiet my mind in a way that scrolling my phone never could.

After going through breast cancer, I started appreciating those ordinary moments so much more. There were days during treatment when I didn’t have the energy to take a walk or even sit outside for very long. Now, being able to step outside and simply breathe feels like a gift I don’t want to take for granted.

Of course, life doesn’t always cooperate. Sometimes it’s pouring rain. Sometimes Michigan decides to skip spring altogether. And some days I’m simply too busy to get outside as much as I’d like. That’s actually one of the reasons I started creating my calming nature videos.

I wanted to recreate that peaceful feeling of sitting by the ocean, walking through a quiet forest, listening to gentle rain, or watching wildflowers sway in the breeze. They’re not meant to replace nature, but to bring a little bit of it into your home when life, weather, work, or health make getting outside a little harder.

Because I’ve learned something over the past few years.Peace doesn’t always come from doing more. Sometimes it begins with opening the door, taking one deep breath of fresh air, and reminding yourself that this moment is enough.

Learning to Say Yes to Help

If you had asked me a few years ago if I needed help, my answer probably would have been, “No, I’ve got it.” Even when I didn’t.

I’ve always liked being independent. I wanted to be the one taking care of everyone else. Asking for help felt uncomfortable, almost like I was admitting I couldn’t handle my own life. Breast cancer completely changed that.

There were days when I physically couldn’t do everything. Friends showed up with meals. Family helped with the girls. People offered rides, sent gift cards, checked in with a text message, or simply sat with me during the hard moments.

At first, I struggled to accept it. I remember wanting to say, “No, we’re okay,” even when we really weren’t. But I slowly realized something important. When people offer to help, they’re not keeping score. They’re showing love.

Now, I’ve learned that accepting help isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s allowing the people who care about you to be part of your story. These days, that help might look different.

Sometimes it’s Josh taking over bedtime because I’m exhausted after treatment. Sometimes it’s a family member watching the girls while I have another doctor’s appointment. Sometimes it’s my mother-in-law dropping off dinner after a long week. And sometimes it’s simply someone asking, “How are you really doing?” and giving me the space to answer honestly.

I’ve also learned that asking for help isn’t only something we do during the biggest moments of life. It’s okay to ask someone to watch the kids for an hour. It’s okay to order takeout instead of cooking. It’s okay to let the laundry wait another day.

We spend so much time believing we have to carry everything ourselves that we forget we were never meant to. One of the greatest gifts cancer gave me wasn’t strength. It was the reminder that community matters.

And sometimes the bravest thing we can say isn’t, “I’ve got this.” It’s simply, “Thank you.” 

Quiet Became Its Own Kind of Medicine

Before cancer, I don’t think I truly understood how loud life had become. There was always another notification to check, another errand to run, another load of laundry waiting, another item on tomorrow’s to-do list. Even when I sat down to rest, my mind rarely did. Treatment forced me to slow down.

At first, I fought it. I wanted to keep moving, keep accomplishing, keep pretending life hadn’t changed. But eventually I realized my body wasn’t asking me to do more. It was asking me to be still. That’s when I began discovering the power of quiet.

Some days that meant sitting outside with my coffee before the girls woke up. Other days it looked like closing my eyes for five minutes and focusing on my breathing. Sometimes I’d put on gentle nature sounds or a guided meditation while resting after treatment.

None of it was complicated. I wasn’t trying to become a different person or master meditation overnight. I was simply giving my nervous system permission to rest.

The funny thing is, those little moments started changing the rest of my day. I felt more patient with my girls. I handled unexpected challenges a little better. Even on the busiest days, taking a few quiet minutes reminded me that I didn’t have to live in a constant state of rushing. That experience is actually what inspired me to start creating my own calming content.

Whether it’s a short guided meditation, peaceful nature videos, calming sleep stories for kids, or hours of relaxing scenery, every video I create comes from one simple hope—that someone else might find a few moments of peace when they need it most.

Because I know what it’s like to desperately need a quiet place to land. Life will always be busy. There will always be another email, another appointment, another responsibility waiting. But I’ve learned that peace doesn’t always come from escaping our lives. Sometimes it begins with one deep breath… a few moments of silence… and the choice to slow down, even if only for a little while.

Small Routines Gave Me Back a Sense of Control

One of the hardest parts of going through breast cancer was realizing how much was outside of my control.

I couldn’t control my diagnosis. I couldn’t control my treatment schedule. I couldn’t control the side effects, the waiting, or the uncertainty that came with each new appointment. But I could control a few small things. And those small things became anchors in my day.

Every morning, I make my coffee. I drink my water before I get distracted. I make the bed—not because I think a perfectly made bed changes my life, but because it gives me one small win before the day really begins.

If my plants need watering, I take a few extra minutes to care for them. There’s something calming about slowing down long enough to notice a new leaf or a flower beginning to bloom. It’s a simple reminder that growth often happens quietly.

Whenever I can, I step outside for a short walk. Sometimes it’s around the neighborhood. Sometimes it’s just around the backyard while the girls play. I’m not trying to get a workout in. I’m simply reminding myself that life exists beyond my to-do list.

None of these habits take very long. None of them are revolutionary. But together, they’ve helped me build mornings that feel calmer instead of chaotic.

I’ve realized that routines don’t have to be rigid to be meaningful. They don’t need to happen at exactly the same time every day, and they certainly don’t need to look like someone else’s perfectly curated morning on social media.

They simply need to support the life you’re living. Some mornings, every box gets checked. Other mornings, the bed stays unmade, the coffee gets reheated three times, and my toddler proudly “helps” water the plants by watering half the floor in the room too.

Both kinds of mornings count. Because these routines were never about perfection. They were about creating small moments of normal life when so much else felt uncertain. Looking back, I don’t think it was one big habit that changed my mornings.

It was dozens of tiny ones. Tiny choices. Tiny pauses. Tiny moments of gratitude. Over time, they became something much bigger. They became the foundation for a life that feels a little calmer, a little more intentional, and a whole lot more meaningful.

My body deserved kindness.

For a long time, I treated my body like a machine. If there was work to do, I pushed through. If I was tired, I drank another cup of coffee. If something hurt, I told myself I’d deal with it later. Rest felt like something I had to earn.

Then cancer happened.

Suddenly, my body wasn’t something I could ignore anymore. It demanded my attention. There were days when fatigue wasn’t something I could simply “push through.” Recovery became part of my job, and I slowly realized that resting wasn’t being lazy—it was healing. That lesson has stayed with me.

These days, I try to listen when my body is asking for something. Sometimes that means stretching for a few minutes before I start my day because everything feels stiff. Sometimes it means taking a short walk instead of sitting at my desk for another hour. And sometimes it means admitting that today isn’t the day to check every box on my to-do list.

That one has probably been the hardest lesson of all. As someone building a business while homeschooling and raising two little girls, there are always more things I could be doing. Another blog post to write. Another video to edit. Another email to answer. The work never really ends.

But neither does the need to take care of myself. I’ve learned that productivity isn’t the same thing as worth. The dishes can wait. The email can wait. The laundry will still be there tomorrow. Some days, the most productive thing I can do is rest long enough that I have the energy to show up again tomorrow.

Ironically, I’ve found that when I stop forcing myself to be productive every minute of the day, I actually accomplish more. My mind is clearer. I’m more patient with my girls. I’m more creative. And the work I do feels better because I’m not running on empty.

If you’re someone who constantly feels guilty for slowing down, let this be your reminder: Your body has carried you through every good day, every hard day, every ordinary day, and every impossible one.

It deserves kindness. Not just when you’re sick. Not just when you’re recovering. Every single day. Because the goal isn’t to squeeze every ounce of productivity out of yourself. The goal is to build a life that you actually have the energy to enjoy.

I stopped waiting for “after cancer.”

For a long time, I kept telling myself, “I’ll do that after cancer.” After treatment. After surgery. After the next scan. After the next appointment. After I finally felt like myself again. Without realizing it, I had put my life on hold.

I was waiting for some magical day when everything would feel normal again. When I wouldn’t have another doctor’s appointment on the calendar. When I wouldn’t think about cancer anymore. When life would finally feel settled.

Then one day I realized something. That day might never come. There will probably always be another follow-up appointment. Another scan. Another moment when cancer unexpectedly crosses my mind. It’s part of my story now, but it doesn’t have to be the thing that keeps writing the rest of it.

So I stopped waiting. I started writing again. I started creating videos that I had been dreaming about for years. I started rebuilding my blog. I started sharing the products I genuinely love, recording meditations, creating calming nature videos, and building a business that reflects the life I want to live.

Not because everything is perfect. But because life is happening now. Cancer taught me something I wish I had understood much earlier. None of us are promised a perfect season to begin. We’re always waiting for something. More time. More money. More confidence. The kids to get older. The house to be cleaner. The schedule to slow down. The fear to disappear.

But if we spend our lives waiting for everything to be just right, we risk missing the beautiful, ordinary moments that are already here. These days, I still have doctor’s appointments. I still have hard days. I still worry sometimes. But I also laugh with my girls. I plan future trips. I dream about growing this blog into something that truly helps people. I save clearance flowers from the grocery store. I drink my coffee while the house is still quiet. I celebrate ordinary Tuesdays.

Because healing, at least for me, wasn’t the moment cancer ended. Healing was the moment I decided I was allowed to start living again—even while life was still uncertain.

If there’s one thing I hope you take away from my morning routine, it’s this: You don’t have to wait for the perfect season to build a life you love. Sometimes the first step isn’t changing your entire life. It’s simply choosing to live the one you have today. 

Hope looked different every day.

When people talk about hope, they often picture something big. A clear scan. The end of treatment. Ringing the bell. Those moments are beautiful, and they deserve to be celebrated.

But I’ve learned that hope doesn’t always arrive with fireworks. Sometimes it shows up quietly. Sometimes hope looked like getting out of bed when I really didn’t want to. Sometimes it looked like taking a shower after spending the day on the couch. Sometimes it was getting dressed, even though I had nowhere to be. Sometimes it was laughing at something one of my girls said and realizing, for just a moment, I had forgotten about cancer. Sometimes it was sitting outside with a cup of coffee, watching the sun come up. Sometimes it was watching the sky turn pink at sunset and thinking, I’m so grateful I get to see another one.

And sometimes.. Hope looked like simply believing tomorrow might feel a little easier than today. I’ve realized we often expect hope to feel dramatic or life-changing.

But more often than not, hope is found in ordinary moments. It’s found in choosing to keep going. One breath. One meal. One walk. One sunrise. One ordinary day at a time.

Final Thoughts

If you’re walking through cancer right now, I hope you know something. You don’t have to do this perfectly. You don’t have to be positive every minute. You don’t have to find a silver lining on the hardest days.

Some days, simply making it through the day is enough. Some days you’ll laugh until your stomach hurts. Some days you’ll cry in the shower. Some days you’ll feel hopeful. Some days you’ll feel afraid. Every one of those moments belongs here.

If this season has taught me anything, it’s that healing isn’t about becoming a different person. It’s about learning to care for the person you already are—with a little more patience, a little more grace, and a lot more kindness. If even one of these simple habits makes your morning a little gentler, your heart a little lighter, or your journey feel a little less lonely…

Then sharing my story was worth it. And if you’re not walking through cancer, I hope this reminds you of something too. Don’t wait for life to become perfect before you start living it. Take the walk. Drink the coffee. Call the friend. Watch the sunset. Love the people around you. Find joy in the ordinary.

Because ordinary days are extraordinary gifts. And sometimes, they’re the ones we’ll treasure the most. ❤️