Caroline’s Story

Caroline Lazar will never forget the day that changed her life forever.

“August 21, 2024,” she shared. “It was two days after my mother’s birthday and two days before my husband’s 50th birthday.”

At 45 years old, she considered herself healthy. She stayed on top of her screenings—mammograms, sonograms—and even encouraged others to do the same. But just two months before that day, something didn’t feel right. She was experiencing excruciating pain and severe bloating, symptoms that led to testing and, eventually, a plan to remove fibroids.

What was supposed to be a routine procedure became something unimaginable.

“I went into surgery for a simple myomectomy,” she said, “but instead was dealt the worst news of my life.”

During surgery, doctors discovered cancerous tumors throughout her reproductive organs and in her appendix. What followed was a nine-day hospital stay, a massive abdominal surgery, and more testing—including a bone biopsy that would confirm the cancer had already spread.

“I said to my husband, ‘How is this possible?’”

As she lay in the hospital waiting for answers, the life she had been preparing to step back into—another school year with her students in what she described as her “dream school” in the Bronx—felt suddenly out of reach.

The diagnosis came back as Stage 4 Metastatic Invasive Lobular Carcinoma, with cancer present in her bones and throughout her reproductive system.

“I felt so blindsided,” she said. “I was the girl who would religiously go for mammograms and sonograms and even told colleagues to be vigilant.”

By profession, Caroline is a special education teacher—someone who has spent her life advocating for others, supporting her students, and giving back to her community. But this year, everything shifted. She had to take an unpaid health leave from the New York City Department of Education to focus on her treatment and her health.

“Stage 4 is a terminal illness and every day is a fight,” she shared honestly. “My cancer journey is a roller coaster of sorts—ups and then plenty of downs.”

And yet, even in the face of that reality, Caroline has found ways to move forward with strength and purpose.

“A positive outlook and a strong desire to fight back continue to help me through my many hospitalizations, surgeries, and uncomfortable treatments.”

Her fight is not just personal—it has also become a platform for advocacy. Caroline is now dedicated to educating others about the “sneaky and dangerous nature” of Invasive Lobular Breast Cancer, a form of the disease that can be especially difficult to detect.

She received a travel grant to attend Living Beyond Breast Cancer’s Annual Meeting in Philadelphia and is continuing her advocacy work through the National Breast Cancer Coalition’s Advocacy Summit and Hill Day in Washington, D.C. She has also been trained as a METAvivor Peer-to-Peer Support Group Leader and as a mentor through ABCD (After Breast Cancer Diagnosis), using her voice to support others navigating similar diagnoses.

Through everything, she has also learned how to shift her perspective on life itself.

“It has slowed me down and helped me learn to truly appreciate the little miracles in life.”

That perspective shows up in the way she approaches each day—and in the advice she shares with others.

“Make sure to surround yourself with positive people and know how to say ‘no,’” she said. “Now is the time to put yourself and your health as priority number one.”

Support, she has learned, doesn’t have to be complicated. Sometimes, it’s as simple as being present.

“Cried with me to show me that it is okay to let it out.”

As she looks ahead, Caroline is stepping into a new chapter—one that still holds purpose, connection, and growth. She is preparing to return to the classroom in a new role, working alongside a co-teacher for the first time, continuing to do the work she loves while navigating the reality of her diagnosis.

Her story is one of resilience, advocacy, and honesty.

A reminder that even in the face of the unexpected, there is still meaning to be found, still impact to be made, and still life to be lived—one day, one moment, one “little miracle” at a time.