Mavens, if you follow me on IG or Facebook you know about this story already, it hasn’t been something I have shared on my website, because I was waiting for the right time and I wanted to write about a local organization who really helped. Now I finally feel ready, and I am so blessed to be here and be able to share about the Ellie Fund. Keep reading and learn more about my last 18 months and the people who really stepped in to help.
There’s a version of this story that starts with a diagnosis. Reading the MRI biopsy results. A phone call. A shift in tone. A moment where everything before and everything after becomes very clearly divided.
Mine started like that too. But what I didn’t realize then was that the diagnosis would be just the beginning of a much longer, much quieter story—one about endurance, support, and the small things that end up meaning everything.
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, the world seemed to stop but everything moved quickly at the same time. Appointments stacked on top of each other. Scans. Consults. Treatment plans. The time spent waiting in between. Decisions I didn’t feel ready to make but had to. Like whether or not to freeze my eggs to protect my fertility.
There’s a strange urgency that happens in those early days—you’re expected to absorb so much information while still processing the reality of what’s happening to your body.
And then treatment begins.
A question I asked a friend who went through a similar diagnosis was “when did you finally process this?” and they said “I am still processing” and I understand that now more than ever.
For me, treatment meant two surgeries, an IVF cycle, chemotherapy, two HER2 inhibitors done via my chemo port and radiation.
And treatment has a way of changing everything.
It’s not just the physical side effects—though those are real and heavy. It’s the way your energy disappears. The way your body no longer feels like your own. The way even the smallest tasks start to feel overwhelming. There were days when getting out of bed felt like enough.
Days when making a meal, cleaning the house, or even thinking about what needed to get done felt completely out of reach.
And yet… life keeps moving.
The house still needs to be cleaned.
Groceries still need to be bought.
Your family still needs you.
That disconnect—between what you’re going through and what life still requires of you—is something I wasn’t fully prepared for. Not everyone has the support system I do. Most people do not, I had my family, my partner, my friends and community. They all stepped in – and supported, no questions asked.
At one of my hospital visits, my social worker introduced me to the Ellie Fund. I had never heard of it before. She explained that they support people going through breast cancer treatment by covering everyday essentials—things like groceries, housecleaning, and childcare—for a period of time.
She applied for me. At the time, I was grateful—but I don’t think I fully understood how much it would mean. Or how much the Ellie Fund had already done for countless others going through this journey of a cancer diagnosis.
When the support started, it felt like something in my life exhaled. For three months, some of the things that felt impossible became manageable. The Ellie Fund visa card came in the mail right on time each month and helped with Groceries, hiring cleaners and more.
There was space to rest without the constant weight of everything else.
And that kind of support—it’s not just practical. It’s emotional. Because it gave me permission to focus on healing without feeling like everything around you is falling apart.
The Ellie Fund has been doing this work for over 30 years, supporting patients and families across Massachusetts in a way that feels deeply human.
They don’t overcomplicate it.
They don’t make it feel transactional.
They simply show up where it matters most.
And during a time in my life that felt clinical, overwhelming, and uncertain—that kind of care stood out.
As I moved through treatment—and eventually came out on the other side—I found myself reflecting not just on the big milestones, but on the quiet moments that carried me through.
The help I didn’t have to ask for.
The support that made space for me to rest.
The small things that made an unbearable season feel just a little bit softer.
The Ellie Fund was one of those things.
A bright spot in a very heavy time.
If you’re going through breast cancer treatment, or you love someone who is, I want you to know that this kind of support exists.
And if you’re in a place to give, share, or amplify organizations doing this work—this is one that truly makes a difference. Because sometimes the most meaningful help isn’t the loudest.
It’s the kind that quietly steps in… and carries you when you need it most. The Ellie Fund was what I needed at the right time, and when I reached out to see how I could support them, and advocate for the care they provide – they invited me to do their 30th anniversary photo shoot, and from that I received beautiful photos that showed me and my vulnerability, and empowered me. For that I will always be thankful and will continue supporting them in any way that I can.
Some photos of my journey…
Dedication: I dedicate this to the people(my personal community) who stood by me and lifted me up: Bae, Roman, Mom, Dad, Tio, Sherry, Mamma, Jessica, Ani, Samia, Ihab, Erika, Aleks, Bobby, Rose, Castro, Tara my favorite nurse, Becky my other favorite nurse, Michael the volunteer, the small businesses who reached out and sent care packages and the people who reached out via social media and checked in on me throughout plus sent me encouraging messages- I love you all so much more than you can even imagine.
These days I am working everyday to get stronger, fighting through long term side effects and accepting this new version of myself. Life is a beautiful treasure, embrace every part of it.
With gratitude,
Timna aka Life as a Maven
