Lumps & Humps - The Audio Files

This week: MRI news, a successful implant surgery, and a clear path to my next surgery on July 28. But behind the scenes: a positive Signatera result, unexpected stomach pain, and some of the hardest mental health days of this journey that have reminded me healing isn't linear—and that acceptance is something we have to practice over and over again.

The night before surgery, I learned a friend had died from an overdose. The next day, I woke up in recovery and was offered fentanyl and oxycodone for my pain. This is a story about a man who dedicated his life to helping others recover, the day I drove two hours to help him after a relapse, and why I believe addiction deserves the same compassion we so readily extend to illnesses like cancer.

In this update: a surprise return of rectal cancer symptoms, an emergency visit with my colorectal surgeon, and the MRI everyone seems to be waiting on. I share my first Herceptin-only infusion, the joys of hot flashes and possible chemo-induced menopause, pre-op appointments for my implant swap surgery, hair loss, acupuncture, and a question I can't stop asking: Why is the universe testing me...

A friend once suggested there’s a place even further left on the spectrum than surviving. I thought I understood what he meant. Then came divorce. Cancer. Chemotherapy. Grief. In this episode, I share what happened when my body finally stepped out of survival mode—and all the things I had been too busy surviving to feel came rushing in. Sometimes making it through the day is too much. Sometimes th...

Chemo set one, complete. Now it’s time for the next block. This episode is about surviving cancer one day at a time, breaking impossible things into manageable pieces, and borrowing a mindset from the human-performance world to stay psychologically afloat through dual-cancer treatment.

How do you tell people the worst news of your life? This episode is about cancer, crisis communications, spreadsheets, trauma, strategic messaging plans, and the strange things we cling to when our lives explode. Also: audience segmentation, Instagram rollout strategy, and why being a former communications professional turned out to be unexpectedly useful during a dual cancer diagnosis.

Charlottesville. Quantum theory. First love. Trenches. French fries. Rainstorms and reiki. A story about strange timing, parallel lives, and the people who arrive exactly when you need them—even if you don’t understand why yet.

Chemo by the numbers: bloodwork trends, step counts, hydration, iron infusions, weight gain, and what happens when survival starts looking like data points on a graph.

On runny noses, new friends, and gallows humor.

This week on Why Alli Has Cancer: organized crime, environmental toxins, chicken cancer, the Chesapeake Bay, and a topless conversation with my plastic surgeon while she inflated my fake boob with saline.

Round five of chemo. A piece about mindset, mental health, finding a “why,” cold plunges, cancer rituals, the language we use to survive, and how sometimes you never know what you’re training for.

Healthcare Bullshit returns for another episode. This week: My insurance provider announced they’re leaving the Virginia Marketplace while I’m still in active cancer treatment, my colorectal surgeon abruptly stopped practicing, and I had to learn—again—how much of surviving cancer is also surviving the American healthcare system. Also featuring: my incredible care team, a very good social worker,...

I used to know how to find the answer. Then somewhere along the way, I stopped knowing what I wanted. This is a story about driving, houses, and what happens when you don’t know what you want—but keep going anyway.

On day one of chemo, I was handed a hazmat kit to take home. Literally. This episode walks through what it means to be trained to clean up chemotherapy spills—on clothes, on floors, on your own skin—while slowly realizing where that same poison is actually going.

Back half. Chemo Part One. Things are getting harder—physically, mentally, all of it. This episode is about uncertainty, the grind, and trying to plan a life when you have no idea how you’ll feel from one day to the next. Also: a potential escape window—and a care team that understands quality of life matters, too.

Two unexpected questions from my oncologist—about acne medication and long-distance running—send me down a research rabbit hole. This episode explores potential risk factors for colorectal cancer in younger, healthy populations—and why “too young” and “too fit” might not mean what we think.

Eight firefighters. One paramedic. And me, saying “I’m fine.” This is the story of the night my body said otherwise—and the beginning of learning how to let people help.

Chemo, labs, food, movement, and a mountain escape. No big breakthroughs—just steady progress and the work of doing everything possible to rebuild before the next knockdown.

Two cancers, a history of anxiety and depression, and a brain that won’t sit still. This is what the dark days actually sound like—and what it takes to make it through them, one thought, one hour, one day at a time.

On anniversaries, oysters, and getting dressed.

When everything falls apart, where do you go? This is a story about leaving, the ocean that taught me how to survive, and the moment I stopped running long enough to hear something deeper.

A week of small but meaningful progress: adding real food back in, reclaiming movement, and facing a hard decision about my body. This episode is about healing, identity, and what it means to move forward—1% at a time.

Why do I have cancer? New theory: my dog gave me cancer so I’d stay home and pet him more. It’s airtight logic… until you factor in all appointments. This episode continues the series with a highly questionable—but emotionally compelling and slightly unhinged—case against a very sweet, very suspicious, very good boy.

Nausea: controlled. Fatigue: next level. Real food: back. This is chemo week two—more data, more adjustments, and learning how to fight smarter.

On chemo pumps, prescription meds, and a rapidly declining tolerance for bullshit.