Game On: Fighting Fear, Embracing Strength
Because the fight doesn’t end with surgery—and strength looks different every day.
I was finishing up my workout at the hospital gym—sweat on my brow, mind already racing toward the week ahead—when I saw it. A sign on the wall that simply read:
"Game On Cancer."
And something inside of me stood up a little taller.
It didn’t just speak to the physical battle. It spoke to the emotional one. The spiritual one. The silent one that creeps in when you get another call. Another test. Another unknown.
Insights for Empowerment
I’ve come a long way since my diagnosis. I’ve fought through surgery, recovery, and the quiet moments where I had to rebuild my strength—not just in my body but in my spirit. But if I’m honest, no matter how much healing has happened, every time I hear the words “we need to do another procedure” or “we saw something we want to take a closer look at,” my heart breaks all over again.
It’s not just fear. It’s the memory of what I’ve already walked through. It’s the trauma of wondering if I’ll be pulled back into a storm I thought I’d already come out of.
And yet… here I am.
Still standing. Still believing. Still choosing faith, even when anxiety tries to shout louder than peace.
Because even now—I’m yet fighting.
I’m still in treatment. These hormone pills I have to take for the next “I don’t know how many years”? They throw me into a tailspin sometimes. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. It's a battle that isn’t visible on the outside, but it wages war on the inside.
So yes, I’ve come far. But I’m still in the fight. Every single day.
And I choose to keep showing up.
This week, I go in for another test. And while my mind tries to race ahead with “what ifs,” I’m choosing to meet it with what I know:
I know God has carried me before.
I know I am not alone.
I know that courage doesn’t mean you feel fearless—it means you move forward anyway.
And I know that healing is not a one-time event. It’s a journey. A layered, tender, ongoing process.
So, to anyone who is facing another test, another appointment, another unexpected twist—this is for you. And this is for me too.
We don’t have to pretend we’re not nervous. We just have to keep showing up.
We don’t have to silence our fear. We just have to let our faith speak louder.
Conclusion
Seeing that sign—Game On Cancer—was more than a hospital slogan. It was a declaration. A reminder that I’m not just waiting for results, I’m walking through them with resilience. And I’m still in the game.
And so are you.
Encouraging Nuggets
It’s okay to feel scared and still be strong.
Every test doesn’t mean bad news. Sometimes it’s just part of the journey.
Your story is still being written—and there’s power in every chapter.
You are allowed to pause, cry, pray, and then get back up again.
Treatment doesn’t end when the surgery does. Sometimes it’s the quiet parts of the fight that take the most strength.
With love and strength,
Deb Davis
Empowering and encouraging others, one story at a time.