Female Voices of Cancer: The Power of Vulnerability

"My chest tightened. I could feel panic rising in my throat. I thought I might choke, throw up or just collapse right there."

Sara Glenn writes in her blog about her emotional reaction at age 38 when she learned about her condition. While her sentiments may resonate with those diagnosed with cancer, Glenn wasn't reacting to being told she had cancer. That bombshell had already landed. What sent her into an emotional spiral was additional information that would change her life and that of her family forever, forcing her to find her voice and advocate for herself.

For someone who had always been the picture of health, this moment marked a dramatic turning point.

A Surprising Breast Cancer Diagnosis

Born in Texas and raised in North Carolina, Glenn was a normal, active, healthy child, teenager and adult. "I played baseball in second grade," she said. "I pitched, and I was the only girl!" She also excelled at swimming, soccer and volleyball. Today, she still hits the gym regularly, often taking her daughters, ages 8 and 11, with her.

There was some cancer in her family history. Her father battled multiple myeloma and kidney cancer for 16 years, and his aunt had ovarian cancer. Glenn doesn't recall any sense of fear or inevitability surrounding her own health.

Then, in the summer of 2024, Glenn detected a peanut-sized lump during a breast self-examination. The timing couldn't have been worse. The family was preparing to leave North Carolina for Southern California, where Glenn's husband, Tarik, was starting a new job. Glenn suddenly had to juggle moving logistics with the challenges of a health issue - mammogram, ultrasound, biopsy - at the same time.

While commuting cross-country to set up her new household, she underwent screenings and tests. She was diagnosed with a 2-centimeter, grade 1A-1B tumor, ER+ HER2- breast cancer.

Glenn's experience reflects a troubling trend affecting women her age. More women under 50 are receiving cancer diagnoses each year, with rates now 82% higher than men in the same age group. Like Glenn, many of these women find themselves having to become their own strongest advocates, learning to navigate a complex medical system while fighting for their lives.

"I just sat there in silence," she said. "You tend to put up a barrier. I thought, 'No, not me. This happens to other people.' I flooded the nurse with questions."

She continued her questioning when the oncologist arrived and reassured her that her cancer had been caught early. They began discussing a treatment plan: lumpectomy followed by radiation. Glenn began to relax. The cancer would soon be gone, she thought.

Then came a crucial recommendation.

The oncologist suggested genetic testing, explaining that finding a mutation - a very remote possibility - might force a change in treatment. It ended up changing everything.

A Rare Genetic Mutation

The test detected a mutation in Glenn's TP53 gene, a rare but extremely serious inherited condition that leads to Li-Fraumeni syndrome, named for the scientists who identified it in 1969. People with LFS are all but guaranteed to develop one or more cancers before turning 60, and often much sooner. Glenn, her doctor said, faced a 90% risk of additional breast cancer and a better than 50% chance of developing other malignancies, including sarcomas, brain cancer, leukemia and lymphoma. This may also explain her father's cancer; he has the mutation as well.

"This mutation is one of the pathological variants with the highest cancer risk, starting at a young age," said Gregory E. Idos, M.D., M.S., associate professor in City of Hope's Department of Medicine, Division of Gastroenterology. It's a diagnosis that's difficult for many patients to accept. "The hard part is when patients try and wrap their heads around just how many of their organs may be at risk."

Glenn said learning she had LFS was even harder to accept than hearing her initial breast cancer diagnosis. Especially when she started researching the syndrome online. "I was horrified," she said. And the more she read, the worse she felt. "I'm not naturally excitable. But everything shifted. I was suddenly terrified of this thing that had been inside me for 38 years. And now every ache, every pain, made me think, 'Cancer!' It was all I could think about."

Lumpectomy was no longer an option, nor was radiation, which can trigger new cancers in people with LFS. Glenn would need a bilateral mastectomy. In September 2024, three weeks after arriving in La Jolla, she underwent the initial surgery in nearby San Diego. She followed up with reconstructive surgery in April 2025. Additionally, she'll need to take the hormone therapy Tamoxifen for the next 10 years.

Glenn detailed every step of her journey - complete with photographs - in her blog. She finds writing therapeutic.

"There is power in vulnerability," she said. "In sharing your story, no matter how raw. That's when real healing happens."

But no one can heal her LFS. It is never far from her thoughts and colors her future - not just hers, but her family's.

Monitoring Li-Fraumeni Syndrome

"I was worried about my daughters," Glenn said. There was a strong chance both carried the mutation. Glenn was also discouraged by the unfortunate reality that many doctors had never heard of LFS.

"I was told I was going to have to advocate for myself because many places just don't know how to handle this," she said. It terrified her.

Her oncologist referred her to City of Hope, with its robust genetic screening program and decades of expertise in handling LFS. Her first meeting with Dr. Idos reassured her and made her feel heard.

"He listened; he understood how scared I was. He supported me."

Dr. Idos even expedited a necessary MRI for Glenn before her reconstructive surgery, which required implanting metal tissue expanders that would make an MRI impossible, giving her badly needed peace of mind. "I am so grateful," she said.

Dr. Idos and the City of Hope team set up a screening and prevention schedule for Glenn that mirrors what every LFS patient must follow: blood tests and a physical exam every six months; annual skin screenings; a baseline brain MRI followed by whole-body MRIs each year thereafter; and a colonoscopy every two to five years. This is the only way to catch future cancers early enough to treat them successfully.

As for Glenn's daughters, City of Hope tested them as well. "That was a no-brainer," Glenn said. Both have the TP53 mutation, which means they will follow a similarly rigorous schedule of screenings and exams, under the care of Stephen Gruber, M.D., Ph.D., M.P.H., vice president of City of Hope National Medical Center and the Eva and Ming Hsieh Family Director's Chair of the Center for Precision Medicine. Glenn appreciated how Dr. Gruber spent hours with her girls, made them laugh and took the fright out of the whole experience.

Glenn has also done her best to prepare her daughters for what's ahead.

"I'm teaching them to advocate for themselves," she said, echoing the advice once given to her. "To understand what LFS is. I told them we're lucky to have access to this kind of care, because others don't. And they have been amazing! They're teaching others! They will know their bodies better than I ever did."

What Glenn knows now is that she's in a much better place, physically and emotionally.

"I have more confidence in the future than I had eight months ago," she said. "City of Hope is a big part of that."