I’m on this journey. I was 36 years old. I was tired, but who isn’t tired? You work 40, 50 hours a week. My husband asked if he should come with me, and I said no. They were just checking the incision. I thought I would go in, let them check everything, and go back to work. That did not happen.
The thoracic surgeon came in with a report and asked if I was by myself. I knew right then what was about to come. I felt this dark cloud of emptiness. It’s hard to explain. He showed me the scans, and it looked like a “starry night” in my lungs. Those were tiny tumors. They concluded it was non-small cell lung cancer.
In that moment, I told myself I wouldn’t fall apart. I would fight. I wondered if I was being punished, what was wrong in my life, but I also saw people living with cancer. That gave me hope. I realized I could keep going and wouldn’t be taken out of this immediately.
I often feel compelled to reach out to people who are newly diagnosed, to tell them they’ve got this. It will be hard, but they can push through. Giving up isn’t an option. I’m proud to say I’ve been here for 43 months. To someone just starting, I try to give hope. This is not a death sentence. We didn’t know what tomorrow held before cancer, and we still don’t know. I try to keep that perspective.
I’m Stephanie with The Patient Story, and today I’m speaking with Ashley, who is sharing her experience with lung cancer and what living with it means. Before her diagnosis, Ashley describes herself as more than a patient. She is from Mississippi, an Air Force wife, and a mother to a spoiled dachshund. She worked in higher education for many years as a registrar at a community college and the University of Alabama. She loved working with students. She also enjoys musical theater and has even performed on stage, although she has stepped away from it.
Her cancer journey began unexpectedly. She had a Bartholin cyst, which led her to the hospital. A CT scan was done to check the infection, and that scan revealed nodules in her lungs. Doctors initially believed the nodules could be related to infection. They decided to monitor the situation. Two weeks later, the nodules were still present, but the focus remained on treating the infection.
The physician stayed solution-minded and referred her to a pulmonary specialist. The specialist conducted further testing, including a breathing test, which showed her lung function was around 94%. A bronchoscopy was performed under anesthesia, but the results were non-diagnostic. A needle biopsy followed, targeting the largest nodule among over 100 tiny nodules spread across both lungs. That biopsy also did not provide answers.
At this point, Ashley was frustrated. Doctors asked questions about environmental exposure, such as gardening or working with soil, but none applied to her. She had no symptoms beyond feeling tired, which she attributed to a busy work life. No coughing, no weight loss, and no major changes.
Her scans showed what looked like a “starry night” across her lungs, but the cause remained unclear. Because of the uncertainty, she was referred to a thoracic surgeon for a more definitive diagnosis. The surgeon explained a procedure that involved collapsing the lungs and removing sections of lung tissue for analysis. Although the explanation was overwhelming, Ashley agreed to proceed because she wanted answers.
The surgery was her first major procedure under full anesthesia. The risks were explained in detail. After surgery, she woke up in significant pain, which was managed with medication. The surgeon noted that the tissue looked unusual—described as “ground glass” nodules—and even consulted colleagues because it was something he had never seen before.
The samples were sent to a specialized center for further analysis. About a week later, the final pathology report confirmed the diagnosis: non-small cell lung cancer.
She later recalled being told to come in for a follow-up under the pretense of checking her incision. Her husband did not accompany her because they expected it to be routine. When the surgeon came in, he asked if she was alone, and she immediately understood what was happening. She received the diagnosis by herself.
The moment felt overwhelming, almost like an out-of-body experience. The surgeon informed her matter-of-factly and then left her with the report. A nurse offered support and reassurance, which she appreciated. Alone in the room, she contacted a friend in healthcare to ask for an oncologist recommendation. She struggled to process what she had just heard.
After leaving the hospital, she recalls feeling like she was carrying “cinder blocks” on her feet, each step heavy and difficult. Once she reached her car, she broke down completely. She called her husband, then her mother, and later her father to share the news.
The next day, she had a PET scan to determine if the cancer had spread. It was an emotionally exhausting period, filled with calls, messages, and reliving the diagnosis repeatedly. She describes it as mentally draining.
Like many, she initially searched online for survival statistics, which added to her fear. Hearing terms like “death sentence” made her worry about her future. But over time, she gained strength. Now, approaching four years since diagnosis, she reflects on how much resilience she has built.
Her experience shaped her outlook. She now tries to support others facing a new diagnosis, offering encouragement and reminding them that cancer is not the end. She emphasizes that no one knows what tomorrow holds, both before and after a diagnosis, and she continues to hold onto that perspective.
