Every day, new people find Mojo & The Mess. Some came because a friend shared a blog. Some found us through Facebook or TikTok. Some are here because they’re living with cancer themselves. Others are trying to understand what someone they love is going through.
However you got here, I’m really glad you did.
I’m Izzy, and this handsome grey French bulldog is Mojo.
Mojo is my service dog, my best friend, my emotional support, and a firm believer that every snack belongs to him. He takes his job very seriously until someone opens a bag of chips. Then all professionalism goes out the window.
He’s been beside me through every scan, every infusion, every surgery, every setback, and every little victory worth celebrating. He’s also unintentionally become the mascot of this community. Truthfully, I’m pretty sure some of you are only here for him… and honestly, I don’t blame you.
This website wasn’t part of some grand plan. It was born out of fear, frustration, dark humor, and a need to make sense of a life that changed almost overnight.
What started as symptoms that were brushed off as “normal period pain” turned out to be uterine serous carcinoma, a rare and aggressive form of endometrial cancer.
It’s a monster.
By the time someone finally listened, it had already woven its way through my abdomen, invading my bladder, abdominal wall, and surrounding tissue. While I was being told my symptoms were just part of being a woman, this cancer was quietly taking over.
So we fought it.
For more than a year, my life became a revolving door of biopsies, surgeries, chemotherapy, brachytherapy, radiation, blood work, scans, and enough hospital bracelets to probably make a quilt. Every treatment came with the hope that maybe this would finally be enough.
Then my post-treatment scans changed everything.
The monster wasn’t finished.
My cancer had metastasized.
Today I live with stage four metastatic cancer. Since then it has spread to my breast, liver, lymph nodes, bones, and parts of my skull. Treatment isn’t something you finish. It’s something I continue, one infusion, one scan, and one appointment at a time while trying to squeeze every bit of life I can into the days in between.
That’s why Mojo & The Mess exists.
When I was first diagnosed, I was desperate to find someone my age who was talking honestly about cancer. Not just the inspirational quotes or the bell-ringing photos. I wanted the conversations about fear, side effects, grief, body image, relationships, infertility, menopause in your twenties, the endless waiting for scan results, and somehow still finding reasons to laugh in the middle of it all.
So I started writing the blog I needed.
What began as a way to process everything happening to me has grown into a community I never imagined. Every day I hear from patients, caregivers, family members, friends, and even people who have never been touched by cancer but found something here that spoke to them.
You’ll find honest blogs about living with metastatic cancer, treatment updates, the things doctors tell you, the things they don’t, and the weird moments that somehow still make me laugh. You’ll find resources for patients and caregivers, updates on my books, ways to support this community, and plenty of Mojo.
Because cancer is heavy.
That doesn’t mean every conversation has to be.
Some days you’ll cry reading something I’ve written.
Other days you’ll laugh because I somehow managed to compare chemo brain to rebooting an old computer that still doesn’t work right.
And sometimes you’ll just find a chunky French bulldog convinced he’s starving despite eating twenty minutes ago.
That’s the balance we’ve created here.
The hard stuff.
The hopeful stuff.
The messy stuff.
The real stuff.
If there’s one thing I hope every single person takes away from my story, it’s this.
Please don’t ignore your body.
Please don’t let anyone convince you that something doesn’t deserve to be investigated if you know something feels wrong.
Uterine serous carcinoma is rare, but it’s aggressive. Mine was growing while I was being reassured that what I was experiencing was normal.
Know your body. Pay attention to changes. If you have persistent pelvic pain, abnormal bleeding, or symptoms that don’t feel right, keep asking questions until someone listens. Stay up to date on your routine breast screenings and other recommended preventive care. Advocate for yourself. No one knows your body better than you do.
I can’t promise that catching something early changes every outcome.
But if sharing my story convinces even one person to schedule an appointment they’ve been putting off, ask one more question, get one more opinion, or trust their instincts when something feels wrong, then every difficult chapter I’ve shared has been worth it.
Thank you for taking the time to read our story.
If something here resonated with you, I hope you’ll stick around. Mojo & The Mess has become so much more than a blog. It’s a community built on honesty, support, and the belief that no one should have to navigate cancer or life’s hardest moments alone.
While you’re here, take a look around.
The Blog is where I share the real, unfiltered side of living with stage four metastatic cancer, along with the humor, heartbreak, and everything in between.
The Resources page is filled with information for patients, caregivers, and families because I know firsthand how overwhelming a diagnosis can be.
Life’s a Mess is where you can learn more about my first book and the journey that inspired it.
The Support tab helps support this website and allows me to continue creating resources, sharing stories, advocating for patients, and growing this community. Every purchase genuinely helps keep Mojo & The Mess going.
If you’d like to follow along, I’d love for you to subscribe. You’ll get new blogs delivered straight to your inbox, updates on my journey, and, of course, plenty of Mojo, who still believes he’s the real reason you’re here.
Whether you’re living with cancer, loving someone who is, or you simply stumbled across this little corner of the internet, welcome.
I’m so glad you found us.
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