Meet the Models: Missy Devlin
Missy had been feeling off for months. Doctors suspected fibromyalgia, but the diagnosis didn’t sit right with her. Then came her annual mammogram, followed by callbacks for more imaging and biopsies. She hadn’t been told the results yet—but she already knew.
“Although I hadn’t received the official diagnosis, I just knew what it was.”
The confirmation came in a phone call from her primary care doctor. She was on her way back to work when her PCP said, “No you don’t—you need to come see me right now. We have a lot to talk about.”
“She was kind and empathetic but also very clear: I had cancer, and I needed to act fast.”
Missy’s doctor, knowing her tendency to procrastinate, immediately scheduled appointments and mapped out what the next year would look like. But denial lingered. It wasn’t until she called her close friend and work colleague, Pamm—a breast cancer survivor herself—that the reality began to sink in.
“Pamm said, ‘I’m here for you—and now go call your family!’ So I did.”
Her next call was to her brother Sean and sister-in-law Trisha. Trisha became her “Caretaker-in-Chief,” traveling frequently from Florida to Baltimore to coordinate every detail of Missy’s care—appointments, logistics, and emotional support. Even when Missy wasn’t the easiest patient, Trisha never faltered.
“I would have been lost without her.”
Other family members stepped up, too—nieces Jenn, Kathleen, Bridget, and Cara came to help. So did friends like Sue and Tierney, who called every Friday without fail. Her beloved hairdresser and friend Janet made the experience of shaving her head far less traumatic, and her dog Red never left her side.
“My colleagues were incredible. Neighbors I barely knew were unbelievably kind. My team at work even threw me a party with a beautiful cake to let me know they were in it with me all the way. I was blown away.”
Chemo was brutal. It left her weak, tired, and sick, but Missy credits the anti-nausea meds (which she learned the hard way not to skip) and a deeply compassionate team of nurses and doctors who treated her with both skill and humanity.
“They always listened. They made me feel like more than a patient. They were fully committed to my well-being.”
Her advice now?
“Ask for help. Right away. Breast cancer is scary, and there will be days when you want to stay in bed and cry—and that’s okay. Just make sure you talk to someone. Share how you’re doing physically, mentally, spiritually. You’re still you. Don’t let the cancer take over.”
Missy also reminds supporters that the most powerful gestures are often the smallest:
“Sometimes a quick text, a funny card, or a call makes all the difference. Don’t push. Just be there. Be consistent. Keep things light when you can—talk about something besides the cancer.”
Today, Missy knows the power of showing up—for others and for herself. She knows the value of laughter, of letting people in, and of learning to ask for help when life becomes too much to carry alone.
At Runway for Recovery, we honor her spirit, her humor, and her insistence that even during the hardest times, love and support can find their way in—often in the most unexpected, beautiful ways.
