When Rachel woke up from surgery in 2018, based on the length of the surgery, deep down, she already knew what the pathology report confirmed: She had ovarian cancer.
Although Rachel’s cancer had been caught relatively early—rare for a disease with no effective screening test—the diagnosis still marked a profound turning point. Now, eight years later, she’s faced recurrent ovarian cancer twice.
A Difficult Decision
Table of Contents
Rachel was a new mom still nursing her second child in 2003 when she learned about her genetic predisposition to cancer. She and her doctors discussed preventive measures, including removal of her ovaries and fallopian tubes, which can significantly reduce ovarian cancer risk. Knowing the surgery would throw her into early menopause, along with other side effects, she made what now seems like a radical choice: She opted against becoming a “previvor,” a term used for people who take preventive measures to reduce their cancer risk. “I didn’t ignore the information,” she says. “I made an educated decision.”
In her current role as a patient advocate, educator, and legislative lobbyist, she’s eager to emphasize one message: “Everyone’s decision is different, depending on where they are in life.” She also believes that de-stigmatizing conversations around gynecologic cancers is critical. “I scream from the rooftops,” she says. “I want us to be talking about the organs down there—the organs that give us life and that can kill us. I want us talking about them all the time.”
A Disease That Hides
Ovarian cancer is especially difficult to detect early. For one thing, there’s no reliable screening test for it. And symptoms—bloating, pelvic or back pain, changes in bowel or urinary habits—tend to mirror those associated with menopause, gastrointestinal disorders, and normal aging. As a result, an overwhelming majority of women with the disease—roughly 80 percent, according to research published in 2025—are diagnosed with advanced stage cancer (stage III or IV).
Although Rachel and her doctors were proactive over the years about monitoring, subtle changes were enough of a red flag to warrant her 2018 surgery. Only when she woke up did she know for sure that cancer had been found. Even though she wasn’t surprised, she was still devastated. Her first reaction was anger. “Any diagnosis or new information you learn about your health becomes an emotional rollercoaster for anyone that’s human,” she says. “Anger is a really natural place to start, and it’s also a good place to finish and move to the next step of whatever the process is.”
After six rounds of chemotherapy proved effective, Rachel’s outlook began to shift. She emerged from that first bout of cancer empowered in the belief that she was “one and done.” Grateful for her good fortune, she threw herself into advocacy, determined to help spread the word about genetic testing and risk reduction.
Then, three and a half years later, the cancer returned with a vengeance. Unlike the first time, her second battle with the disease gave her a first-hand understanding of the kind of symptoms many patients endure: severe pain, debilitating nausea, neuropathy. “I didn’t think I was going to make it,” she says now.
The Power Of Community
Rachel, with her daughter, helped launch San Francisco’s iconic 16th Avenue Tiled Steps.
Driven and strong-willed, Rachel is independent. But she understood that getting through treatment would require leaning on those close to her. She took up friends and family on their offers to help—something she admits took some getting used to. Rides were coordinated, meals were delivered. “Premade food with instructions is the best gift!” she says. Someone was always on hand to take notes during doctor’s appointments when she wasn’t able to. “Having others advocate for you is everything when it comes to any kind of health challenge,” she says. “My really good friends were my go-to.”
Rachel’s appreciation for community is nothing new. Twenty years ago, she helped launch the now-iconic 16th Avenue Tiled Steps, a community art installation in San Francisco. With her husband and young children, she canvassed the neighborhood for sponsorships, selling tiles, and rallying support.
Now she sees those steps—one of seven similar installations across the city—as a symbol of the kind of collective effort she believes is essential for anyone battling a deadly disease. “They’re a living example of community,” she says, also noting that her family’s legacy will live on through the initiative. “There’s a step with mine and my husband’s names on it and another with my children’s names, and they’re permanent.”
Living A Life Of Purpose
From a young age, Rachel has been motivated by a desire to make a difference. She has always wanted her work—and her life—to leave a mark. Cancer didn’t create that drive, but it sharpened it.
She doesn’t go so far as to say that her cancer was a gift. “I can assure you, I don’t feel that way,” she says. However, she wouldn’t have made a career shift in 2018 had she not been diagnosed with ovarian cancer. After many years working in advertising and marketing, she now consults exclusively with biotech, pharmaceutical, and life science companies, helping them translate complex science into patient-friendly messaging. Believing “education breeds awareness, awareness drives funding, and funding saves lives,” she also advocates at the state and federal level, pushing for research funding and policy changes.
“Cancer has changed my life in so many ways,” Rachel says. “It’s forced me to take a look and reevaluate and say, ‘Alright, what kind of work do I really want to do? And what’s going to turn this pain into purpose?’”
After all, she adds, “You’re not just your cancer. You’re a person whose story will live beyond it.”
To learn more about ovarian cancer recurrence and available resources, visit illuminaterecurrence.com.
