A lot of times, people forget that doctors are human. We have good days and bad days, just like everyone else. But not a lot of doctors have experienced what it’s like to be a patient — especially in a moment where their life is at risk.

The last thing I expected to deal with as a young doctor was a cancer diagnosis.

“The last thing I expected to deal with as a young doctor was a cancer diagnosis.”

One moment, I was in my early 30s, focused on my career, building my life, doing all the things I thought I was supposed to be doing. The next, I was navigating a breast cancer diagnosis, trying to make sense of something I didn’t see coming.

Like many people, I assumed health was something you could manage if you did enough of the “right” things. Eat well. Exercise. Stay on top of your check-ups. But cancer has a way of interrupting that narrative. And something like breast cancer affects 1 in 8 women in the United States. That’s a lot of interruptions.

What I’ve learned in the decade since my diagnosis is that health is far more complex, and far more personal, than I ever understood before.

You don’t just “go back to normal”

One of the things that stayed with me the most came shortly after my treatment ended. I was told, in a very well-meaning way, by my oncologist, “You made it. Now you can go back to living your life.” And I remember thinking: What life am I going back to?

Because the life I had been living didn’t feel like something I wanted to return to. It was fast. It was stressful. It was disconnected in ways I hadn’t fully recognized at the time. It was that old way of living that had gotten me here in the first place. Why would I return to it?

“It was that old way of living that had gotten me here in the first place. Why would I return to it?”

And more importantly, I didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

What I’ve come to understand is that cancer isn’t something you move past and forget. It really does change you. Cancer is something you move with.

Even ten years later, there’s still a small whisper of fear that lives in the background. It used to be loud. Now it’s quieter. But it’s still there.

And learning how to live with that, without letting it take over, has been part of the healing process too.

Safety in your body isn’t a given — it’s something you build

Right after my diagnosis, one of the most unexpected parts of the journey was realizing how unsafe I felt in my own body.

There’s a loss of trust that happens when something like cancer enters your life. As a functional medicine doctor, I often remind my patients that the body is regenerative. It wants to heal, given the right conditions. But I also know what it feels like from the other side.

Trusting your body after something like cancer can be difficult. And that’s okay. Rebuilding that trust doesn’t happen overnight.

“Trusting your body after something like cancer can be difficult. And that’s okay.”

For me, it became about learning how to check in with myself more regularly. Understanding the ups and downs. Paying attention to what my body was telling me instead of pushing past it. That sense of safety isn’t something I found once and kept forever. And if I’m being honest, it’s not something I even had before cancer.

Feeling safe in my body is something I actively cultivate to this day. Through the way I live, the boundaries I set, and the awareness I’ve developed over time. I’ve learned to advocate for myself in a way I never did before — and that’s something I no longer take for granted.

I learned to ask better questions

As a physician, I was trained to look for answers. As a patient, I learned how often those answers aren’t immediately clear.

One of the most important things I tell patients in my medical practice is this: If something doesn’t feel right, keep asking questions. Get a second opinion. Or a third.

“If something doesn’t feel right, keep asking questions. Get a second opinion. Or a third.”

There were moments early in my diagnosis when everything was moving so quickly that I didn’t even know what questions to ask. And that feeling of not knowing what you don’t know can be incredibly disorienting. But your intuition matters. Feeling heard matters. And your questions matter.

Having a care team that is willing to evolve, stay curious, and meet you where you are is just as important as the treatment itself. Don’t settle for care that doesn’t care about you.

“We don’t know why” wasn’t enough for me

I didn’t have a clear genetic explanation for my cancer.

My mom and I both had breast cancer — same side, similar patterns — and yet, even with expanded genetic testing, nothing definitive showed up. And while I understand that medicine doesn’t have all the answers, I found myself wanting to understand more. Not from a place of blame. More from a place of curiosity.

That curiosity is what led me deeper into functional and integrative medicine — approaches that look at the body as an interconnected system, rather than a collection of isolated parts.

“That curiosity is what led me deeper into functional and integrative medicine — approaches that look at the body as an interconnected system, rather than a collection of isolated parts.”

Instead of stopping at “we don’t know,” these frameworks ask different questions. They look at things like inflammation, hormone patterns, gut health, detoxification pathways, cellular health, and environmental exposures to better understand what might be contributing beneath the surface.

They also look at the full story of your health over time — how your body has responded and adapted across the decades, even starting from how you were born. The functional perspective taught me that our stories matter just as much (if not more) than our symptoms. And that understanding changed everything about how I approach both my own health and my patients’ care. Because even when we can’t fully explain why something happened, we can start to understand the patterns that may have played a role.

And more importantly, we can begin to support the body in a different way moving forward.

The traditional model wasn’t enough on its own

I’m not someone who believes in rejecting traditional medicine. It saved my life — in a very real, immediate way. I went through surgery, I received treatment, and that was a critical part of my healing. But that was only one part of the story.

“I’m not someone who believes in rejecting traditional medicine. It saved my life — in a very real, immediate way.”

After my treatment ended, there was very little guidance on what came next. No real roadmap for rebuilding. No deep exploration into what might have contributed to my diagnosis in the first place. And no real conversation about how to support my body long-term for years to come.

That’s where I started to see the gap in traditional care — and the kind of care I wanted to offer my own patients moving forward. Functional medicine became an expansion of everything traditional medicine does so well.

It gave me a framework to understand my body in a more comprehensive way. It helped me look at patterns, not just isolated lab values. It gave me tools to support my physiology, not just treat a condition as a one-time event.

One of the most influential voices in my journey was one of my mentors, Dr. Nalini Chilkov. She often said that our goal isn’t just to treat cancer. She’d often say “you can create a body where cancer cannot thrive.” That idea stayed with me. It shifts the focus from reacting to disease… to building a foundation of health.

And that foundation isn’t just one thing. It’s everything.

There isn’t one way to heal

Over the last decade, I’ve worked with a wide range of practitioners. Traditional physicians. Functional medicine doctors. Acupuncturists. TCM Herbalists. Ayurvedic Healers. Naturopaths. Quantum Biology leaders. Coaches.

And what I’ve learned is that there isn’t one “right” way to look at the body. There are different lenses. Different systems. Different approaches. And each one can offer something valuable.

“What I’ve learned is that there isn’t one ‘right’ way to look at the body.”

There’s still so much we don’t fully understand about cancer. And I think it’s important to say that honestly. But as a medical field, we are learning.

We’re learning more about the role of inflammation, environment, stress, trauma, mitochondrial health, metabolic health, hormones, and more. We’re learning how interconnected everything really is. We’re making strides across different modalities of care.

For me, healing wasn’t about choosing one path, but staying curious enough to explore what resonated, and grounded enough to know what my body needed.

The foundations matter more than you think

If there’s one thing I come back to again and again, it’s this: The basics matter.

Sleep. Stress. Nutrition. Movement. Community. There are certain foundations that are non-negotiable — not because we execute them perfectly, but because we check in often enough to know when something is off.

“Sleep. Stress. Nutrition. Movement. Community. There are certain foundations that are non-negotiable.”

When I’m not sleeping well, I feel it. When I’m under too much stress, I see it. When I’m disconnected from my body, it shows up.

And the work is in noticing and adjusting in real time.

The people who hold you through it

Healing isn’t something you should do in isolation.

You need people who are on your team. You need practitioners who listen. You need community. You need relationships that can hold you when you don’t feel like yourself. And you need to let go of the relationships that make you feel alienated, less than, or like a burden. Even though I was sick with something that truly scared me, I had a team of people to face it with. Not everyone is so lucky.

“You need people who are on your team. You need practitioners who listen. You need community.”

There was a moment when I opened a package that had arrived at the house. Inside was a book called “Breast Cancer Husband: How to Help Your Wife Through Diagnosis, Treatment, and Beyond.” My husband had ordered it without me knowing.

It wasn’t the gesture that got me, but the title. Standing there in the doorway after a long day at work, I read those words and just broke down. There was something about seeing it so plainly, so directly, that made everything feel real all at once. I stood there and cried. He just wanted to understand what I was going through. And that mattered more than I can fully explain.

When you’re in something like this, it’s not just physical. It’s emotional. It’s mental. It’s deeply personal. And having people who are willing to meet you in that space who are willing to learn, to show up, to stay changes everything.

Find it wherever you can — even if it’s joining support groups online (that’s what my husband did). You deserve to have a soundboard of people who will walk this path with you.

What I know now

Health isn’t something you return to. It’s something you build. And rebuild. And rebuild again. You learn a lot along the way, but you continue to learn even more over time. I have a much deeper understanding of my body after cancer.

“Health isn’t something you return to. It’s something you build. And rebuild. And rebuild again.”

Now, that doesn’t mean I’m perfect, or I get everything right when it comes to health. I don’t. I’m a human being, despite also being a doctor. What matters now is that I know what supports my body, and I also know what doesn’t.

And I trust myself in a way I didn’t before. Going through cancer has a way of building a kind of resilience you can’t fully understand until you’ve lived it.

If you’re walking this path

Whether you’re navigating cancer right now, recovering from it, or supporting someone who is, this is what I want you to know: You’re allowed to ask questions. You’re allowed to seek different perspectives. You’re allowed to take your time making decisions.

“There isn’t one path to healing.”

And you’re allowed to build your own understanding of what health looks like for you. Because there isn’t one path to healing. There’s just the one that unfolds in front of you and the way you choose to walk it.

Dr. Jaclyn Tolentino is a Board-Certified Family Physician and the Lead Functional Medicine Physician at Love.Life. Specializing in women’s health and hormone optimization, she has been featured in Vogue, The Wall Street Journal, and Women’s Health. As a functional practitioner and a breast cancer survivor, Dr. Tolentino is dedicated to uncovering the root causes of health challenges, employing a holistic, whole-person approach to empower lasting wellbeing. Follow her on Instagram here for more insights.