In February, I wrote Leaps&Bounds’ year-in-review article on a flight to Toronto. We had such a strong year, and I was so proud of what the L&B team had accomplished.

At the same time, the flight was taking me to deliver a eulogy for my dear friend Josy, while also processing a breast cancer diagnosis I had just received.

It was a lot.

Over the last decade, I’ve become disciplined about my health. No matter how busy things get, I go to the appointments, and I do the tests.

So when something felt off in December, I followed up right away. That led to more tests in January, a biopsy in February, and an early-stage diagnosis.

During this time, I needed to pull on every ounce of energy I had to hold Josy’s journey (one that didn’t come with the same outcome) and my own.

For a long while, I didn’t share with many people.

Partly because I didn’t yet know what I was dealing with.
Partly because it was easier to keep showing up as “normal.”
And partly because I was very scared.

The good news for me: I am one of the lucky ones. Early-stage. Treatable. Surgery.

I made the decision quickly to move forward with a double mastectomy. The goal was simple: be cancer-free. Everything else was secondary.

On March 31, the plan moved into execution.

I had exceptional surgeons, skilled, steady, and human in all the right ways. I felt safe. And when you’re handing over that level of control (especially if you’re someone who doesn’t easily give it up), that matters more than anything.

The experience also reinforced how execution is layered. At the top, everything can look seamless, a clear plan, expert leadership, strong outcomes. Further down, you see the strain. The nurses holding it together and the resource gaps.

The care I received was excellent. And it was also clear how hard people are working within a stretched system. Both things can be true.

It reinforced something we often say to leadership teams: strategy can look flawless at the top, while the system underneath is carrying far more than we see.

What stands out most for me, though, is the support I received.

My team stepped in without hesitation.
Clients I needed to share with gave space without question.
Friends showed up in big ways and small.
My family carried more than their share.

And my husband, every step of the way, just kept asking, “What do you need?”

I will never forget everyone’s kindness and care.

As an entrepreneur in a growing organization, there’s a narrative we can buy into – that everything depends on us. This experience challenged that.

I stepped away from the business, and it kept going. In fact, it thrived. Projects continued, new opportunities came in and closed, and the team leaned on each other. The real test of a team isn’t how it performs when you’re present, it’s how it shows up when you’re not.

A few reflections, now that I’m (almost) on the other side of this chapter:

• Don’t negotiate with your health. Busyness is not a reason to delay taking care of yourself. Get the tests!
• Build something that doesn’t rely on you being there every day.
• Pay attention to your people. In the hardest moments, that’s what carries you.

There’s one more thing I’ve been thinking about.

The “lump” I found in December turned out to be related to an accident last year (not cancer), but it’s what led me to follow up, which ultimately led to finding the carcinomas.

I don’t know if things happen for a reason. But I do know that paying attention to your body, your instincts, your life, matters.

My outcome is positive. I learned last week that I won’t need further treatment. I’m incredibly grateful. I’m ready to get back to the parts of my life I love, personally and professionally.

As an entrepreneur, it’s important to remember that at some point, life will pull you away. What matters is whether you’ve built something and surrounded yourself with people who can carry on when it does.

PS The Lego picture is how I kept myself occupied those first couple weeks post-surgery 🙂