When Everything Changed: How Dr. Sheri Prentiss Discovered Her True Purpose
By: Aryana Hadjimohammadi
Aryana Hadjimohammadi is a journalist and writer, passionate about health, medicine, and patient-centered storytelling. Through her reporting, she explores the intersection of healthcare, research, and lived experiences to help readers better understand complex health topics.
Editor’s Note from Dr. Sheri®: I’m deeply grateful to Aryana Hadjimohammadi for taking the time to tell my story with such care. I hope that wherever you find yourself today, this story reminds you that even life’s most difficult chapters can become the foundation for purpose, hope, and service.
Originally written as a long-form profile exploring the life, faith, and purpose of Dr. Sheri®
“When I was growing up, my neighborhood was a village,” Dr. Sheri Prentiss recalls of her childhood on Chicago’s South Side. On her block, families treated one another’s homes as extensions of their own. Children drifted in and out of neighbors’ houses, and parents shared responsibility for every child.
“There wasn’t anything I could do on my block—or even a couple of blocks away—and think I was going to get away with it if it was wrong,” she said with a smile. “Somebody was going to tell my mama. The parents on our block looked after all of us. Family extended far beyond blood relatives. It wasn’t just the family you were born into—it was also the family you chose and the community that chose you.”
In that village-like environment, a young girl slowly realized what she wanted to do with her life: help people. “I honestly don’t remember a time when I wanted to be anything other than a physician,” she said.
As a child, she was captivated by the television series Marcus Welby, M.D. “I remember watching Marcus Welby and seeing a physician who seemed to know how to help every patient who came through his door,” she said. “He figured out what was wrong, he made people feel better, and he lived in a beautiful home and drove a nice car. As a little girl, that was the life I admired. My heart simply said, ‘I want to help people, and I want to live a life like that.”
But it was never just about the nice house or the nice car. “I’ve always been fascinated by science, but I was even more fascinated by people,” she said. “Growing up in church and in a neighborhood where everyone looked out for one another nurtured that fascination. Medicine brought those two passions together—the intellectual challenge of solving complex problems and the privilege of making someone’s worst day a little better.”
What stayed with her most was the way Marcus Welby showed up when people were scared. “I remember Marcus Welby could always come in, and when a family was distraught or a person was worried about their life or what was going to happen, he made them feel better,” she said. “That was what I wanted to do.”
For Prentiss, becoming a physician was never simply about earning a degree.
“It was about earning the privilege of being trusted during some of the most vulnerable moments of another person’s life,” she said.
“It was about earning the privilege of being trusted during some of the most vulnerable moments of another person’s life.”
That sense of purpose—rooted in genuine compassion and fueled by determination—guided her through graduating with honors from Northwestern University and Loyola University Chicago Stritch School of Medicine, earning a Master of Public Health from the University of Illinois, and building a distinguished career as a board-certified occupational and environmental medicine physician.
By 2008, she had built a life marked by accomplishment, productivity, and impact. “I was driven,” she said. “ Once I made up my mind that I wanted something, I pursued it wholeheartedly. I simply wasn’t going to let anything—or anyone—stand in my way.”
Then everything changed.
The Day Everything Changed
October 1, 2008, began like any other. Prentiss was waiting for a phone call about her mother, who was being transferred to inpatient hospice in the final stages of her life. While speaking with her daughters’ father, she performed her monthly breast self-examination.
“The moment I felt the lump, I knew exactly what it was,” she recalled.
Twelve days later, on October 13, a biopsy confirmed what she already suspected: Stage IIA invasive ductal carcinoma. She was a single mother co-parenting two preteen daughters, caring for her dying mother, and now preparing to fight for her own life.
“Everything seemed to stop,” she said. “In an instant, my mind shifted from physician to mother…from physician to daughter…and from physician to patient. I was caring for my mother in the final days of her life, navigating the end of a 17-year marriage, co-parenting two preteen daughters, and suddenly facing the fight of my own life.”
She remembers the questions that consumed her. “I wasn’t thinking about statistics,” she said. “I was thinking about my mother, who was nearing the end of her life. I was thinking about my daughters, who were still in middle school and high school. Would I live to watch them grow up? Would I be there for their birthdays…their graduations…their weddings?”
She also remembers the moment everything shifted. “In that single moment I crossed the line I never expected to cross. I went from physician to patient.”
“In that single moment I crossed the line I never expected to cross. I went from physician to patient.”
“For the first time, I wasn’t the person explaining the diagnosis, I wasn’t the one reassuring someone else, I was the one waiting for pathology reports, waiting for scans, waiting for lab results, waiting for someone else to walk through the door with answers, and you just quickly realize how vulnerable patients truly feel.”
What Treatment Really Looked Like
The treatment was brutal.
“I underwent what was supposed to be a lumpectomy,” she said. “Instead, my surgeon had to operate four times to achieve clean margins. By the time she was finished, half of my right breast had been removed.”
Sixteen lymph nodes were removed; three contained cancer. Then came 15 rounds of chemotherapy, which claimed every strand of hair on her body, followed by 33 radiation treatments.
“The radiation burned my right breast, chest, neck, and nipple,” she said. “My skin turned black. My fingernails darkened, and I lost several of them. I even lost both of my great toenails—twice.”
“I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me.”
Then, in the middle of treatment, came another devastating loss. On a day when her white blood cell count had fallen to 1.8—too low to receive chemotherapy and leaving her dangerously immunocompromised—her mother died in her arms.
“My mom died in my arms,” she said quietly. “My white blood cell count was only 1.8, and I wasn’t supposed to be around anyone. But there was no way my mother was going to leave this earth without me by her side.”
She reflects on that season. “Those seasons when life doesn’t give you one crisis at a time. Sometimes they come all at once. And those seasons will either break you or build you. And I’m grateful to say the latter is in my case.”
She worried constantly about her daughters.
“My girls knew what cancer meant,” she said. “They watched their mother’s body change before their eyes, and then they lost their grandmother, whom they loved dearly. I can only imagine what was going through their minds. They had just lost Grammy…were they going to lose Mom too?”
She paused before continuing. “I did everything I could to reassure them. I gave them words of hope and encouragement, but deep down I didn’t know what the future held. I was telling them everything was going to be okay, while quietly wondering if I was going to live through it.”
When Treatment Ends, the Real Work Begins
Surviving cancer was not the end of the battle. It was the beginning of something else entirely.
“Lymphedema actually started when treatment ended, and now it’s something that I have to live with for the rest of my life,” she explains.
Lymphedema is a chronic condition where lymph fluid builds up in the body’s tissues, causing painful swelling. It affects one in five breast cancer survivors, according to Harvard Medical School. For Prentiss, it affects her right arm, hand, and fingers — and she is right-handed.
“I have permanent painful swelling in my right upper extremity,” she said.
The daily management never stops. “I perform manual lymphatic drainage massage on myself in the morning and again at night. I wear compression garments during the day, and a different type of compression garment at night. Some people need pneumatic devices to treat their lymphedema, and other various forms of treatment.”
The cost of these medically necessary garments is staggering. “An average daytime set could cost anywhere between $250 to $300. You need to have at least two sets of garments at all times, because while one set is air drying after washing, you need to have another set to wear.”
For custom garments, the cost is even higher. “My nighttime custom garments, cost $2,500 that was not covered by insurance.”
“I experienced firsthand how expensive compression garments are,” she said.
“Many survivors are living with lymphedema and don’t even realize they have it because they’ve been told it’s ‘just some swelling,'” she said. “Too often, they’re told, ‘But you survived,’ as though lymphedema is some sort of consolation prize. It isn’t.”
The financial burden is only part of the story. There is also the emotional and psychosocial toll—the self-consciousness of a swollen limb, the curious stares from strangers, the constant questions, and the daily reminder that cancer’s impact did not end when treatment ended.
“People often overlook the psychosocial impact of lymphedema,” she said. “Suddenly, a part of your body that was once private becomes visible to everyone, and it can feel like the whole world is looking at what’s different about you.”
She came to a difficult realization: “Surviving cancer shouldn’t depend on your bank account.”
A New Calling Is Born
Prentiss knew what it felt like to need help and to wonder how she would afford medically necessary garments for the rest of her life. And through her speaking career — she has delivered nearly 1,000 keynote speeches across the globe — she met thousands of survivors facing the same challenge.
“The foundation was really born out of two things, my personal experience and holy discontent. I knew what it felt like to need help. I knew what it felt like to wonder how I would pay for medically necessary garments for the rest of my life.”
She describes what she witnessed. “Some survivors were walking around with lymphedema and didn’t even know what they had, so they weren’t receiving the treatment they needed. Others faithfully wore their compression garments but covered them with long sleeves because they didn’t want anyone to see them.”
So, in 2017, she founded the LIVE Today Foundation.
The mission was simple but profound: provide free compression garments to under-resourced cancer patients and survivors living with cancer-related lymphedema. What began as an effort to support breast cancer survivors soon evolved into a broader mission as the need became impossible to ignore.
“The requests came so quickly and in such large numbers that I realized this wasn’t just a breast cancer issue,” she said. “I expanded the foundation to serve people living with lymphedema following any cancer diagnosis. It was also important to include both cancer patients and survivors because many individuals with metastatic disease are still undergoing treatment while living with lymphedema. I never wanted them to feel excluded from the support we provide.”
The foundation also focuses on educating physicians about lymphedema — how to monitor for it, how to prevent it, and how to support patients who develop it. And it raises awareness among patients themselves.
“I want every cancer patient to become their own best advocate,” she said. “Don’t wait for someone else to bring up lymphedema. Ask about your risk, ask how you’ll be monitored, and make sure you understand what symptoms should prompt you to seek care. Early detection and early intervention can make all the difference.”
Since its founding, the LIVE Today Foundation has helped nearly 800 cancer patients and survivors receive medically necessary compression garments they otherwise could not afford.
“LIVE Today exists so no survivor has to choose between paying bills and managing lymphedema.”
What the Patient Experience Taught Her About Health Care
Prentiss’s journey from physician to patient gave her a perspective she never expected — one that fundamentally changed how she sees health care.
“It taught me that excellent medicine isn’t enough,” she said. “Patients don’t just need good treatment, they need hope. They need to feel heard; they need someone who remembers they are more than their diagnosis, than their lab results, more than a statistic.”
As a physician, she explains, “Medical school taught me how to diagnose and treat disease. Becoming a patient taught me how important it is to first see the person behind the diagnosis. Those aren’t separate responsibilities—they’re inseparable. When you truly see the person first, you provide better care.”
She learned this lesson not just through her own experience, but through the stories she heard from other survivors — the woman whose husband couldn’t “handle seeing her sick” and stayed at his brother’s house during chemo, the patient who came to appointments alone and never mentioned the loneliness.
“If your only goal is to get a patient through chemotherapy, you’ve missed an opportunity to care for the whole person,” she said. “She may need a social worker. She may need a counselor. She may need someone to help her navigate a marriage that’s falling apart or the loneliness of facing cancer without support. That’s what I learned as both a physician and a patient: treating disease is only part of healing. Caring for the person is what makes medicine truly transformational.”
Her advice to physicians is simple: See the whole person.
“Remember that the person sitting in front of you has a life beyond this exam room,” she said. “Don’t get so focused on the disease, the lab results, or the differential diagnosis that you stop seeing the person. That’s where compassionate, patient-centered care begins.”
“See your patient as someone who can thrive, not just survive,” she said. “Helping them overcome disease is about more than making them disease-free. It’s about restoring a sense of wholeness. When we focus only on individual symptoms, we miss the person. True healing happens when we care for the whole person.”
The Transformation Story
That transformation is visible in everything she does today. As a physician executive, she advises Fortune 500 healthcare organizations on health equity and culturally responsive care. As an international speaker, she has reached hundreds of thousands of people. As an ordained minister, she bridges science and faith. And as the founder of the LIVE Today Foundation, she puts her philosophy into action every single day.
“LIVE Today would have never existed had I not gone through what I went through,” she said.
Her personal philosophy is embodied in the foundation’s name, which is also an acronym: Love yourself and others, Inspire those around you, Voice your dreams and ambitions, and Enjoy life.
“It means refusing to postpone joy,” she explains. “It means recognizing that tomorrow isn’t promised. It means choosing gratitude in the middle of uncertainty.”
Her faith has been central to this transformation. “My faith didn’t remove my suffering, but it did transform it,” she said. “There were days I had questions, days I cried, days I was exhausted, but through every season I discovered something remarkable, and that is God never wastes pain.”
She adds: “Some of the greatest opportunities I’ve had to encourage others came because of the very experiences I once wished had never happened.”
She reflects on the deeper meaning: “Pain has purpose. If you allow it to fulfill that purpose, it won’t just transform your life—it will prepare you to help transform someone else’s.”
“Pain has purpose. If you allow it to fulfill that purpose, it won’t just transform your life—it will prepare you to help transform someone else’s.”
A Message of Hope
When people meet Prentiss today, she hopes they see beyond the titles and accomplishments — the MD, the MPH, the FACPE, the CSP®.
“I hope they see someone who has learned that influence isn’t measured by the letters after your name, but by the lives you leave better than you found them,” she said. “Everything I’ve accomplished from becoming a physician, to leading organizations, to speaking around the world means very little if people don’t leave feeling seen, encouraged, and reminded that they still have purpose.”
“At the end of my life, I don’t want to be remembered simply as an accomplished physician. I want to be remembered as someone who loved people well, pointed them toward hope, and used every chapter of her own story to help someone else write a better ending to theirs.”
What would she tell the woman she was before her diagnosis?
“I would tell her to slow down, love more deeply. Don’t assume tomorrow is guaranteed. Your greatest purpose won’t come through your accomplishment, it will come through your scars, and one day you’ll realize the things you thought were ending your life were actually preparing you to change other people’s lives.”
Her message to anyone facing adversity:
“Cancer is only a part of my story, it’s not my identity,” she said. “Adversity can become purpose, pain can become compassion, scars can become strength, and after everything changes, hope still remains.”
She also stresses the importance of mental and emotional health. “Your mental and emotional health is critically important because how you think determines how you feel, and how you feel influences your actions.”
“If your outlook is one of doom and gloom, that’s all you’ll see and experience,” she said. “But if your mindset is, ‘I will get through this, and I’ll be stronger because of it,’ that perspective can make all the difference in your healing journey.”
Today, she spends her life helping people live more intentionally — whether that’s standing on a stage speaking to thousands, sitting with a cancer survivor who’s frightened, advising healthcare leaders, teaching Scripture, or writing words that help someone rediscover hope.
“Every role I have comes back to one simple desire: if someone crosses my path, I want them to leave believing their life still has purpose. That’s the privilege of the life I get to live now, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Additional Resources
Dr. Sheri®
Learn more about Dr. Sheri Prentiss’ speaking, consulting, ministry, patient advocacy, and healthcare leadership.
www.drsherimd.com
LIVE Today Foundation
Provides free medically necessary compression garments to under-resourced cancer patients and survivors living with cancer-related lymphedema, along with education, advocacy, and survivorship resources.
www.live-today.org
Lymphatic Education & Research Network (LE&RN)
Advances research, education, and advocacy to improve the prevention, diagnosis, and treatment of lymphatic diseases while supporting patients and families worldwide.
www.lymphaticnetwork.org
National Lymphedema Network (NLN)
Provides education, advocacy, professional resources, and patient support for individuals living with lymphedema and other lymphatic disorders.
www.lymphnet.org
From Diagnosis to Destiny: Transforming Trauma into Purpose in Breast Cancer Care
On October 1, 2008, I crossed a line I never expected to cross.
I went from physician… to patient.
For years, I had stood beside patients and families during some of the most frightening moments of their lives. I understood disease. I understood treatment. I understood the language of medicine.
But nothing could prepare me for the moment when the diagnosis belonged to me.
I found a lump in my right breast.
It was cancer.
When Everything Changed
My breast cancer diagnosis came during an already difficult season of life. My mother, my best friend, had been terminally ill for the previous three years, and my father and I were her caregivers.
I was a physician, a mother, a daughter, and a caregiver — roles that required me to remain strong for everyone around me.
Like many healthcare professionals, I had been trained to hold it together.
We learn to compartmentalize.
We learn to push through.
We learn to deliver devastating news and then move on to the next patient.
Composure becomes competence.
But I learned something important through my own experience:
Holding it together is not the same thing as healing.
The Reality Behind the Diagnosis
My treatment journey included a partial mastectomy, a Level I lymph node dissection with 16 lymph nodes removed (three positive for cancer), 15 rounds of chemotherapy, and 33 radiation treatments.
Then, after only three rounds of chemotherapy, another life-threatening complication emerged.
I developed crushing chest pain and was diagnosed with a congenital cardiac anomaly that caused my right coronary artery to become more than 80% blocked.
Twenty-two stents were attempted.
None worked.
I was deemed inoperable and sent home with lifelong medication.
At 41 years old, I was facing aggressive breast cancer, a potentially life-threatening heart condition, and the impending loss of my mother.
Four weeks after leaving the hospital, my mother died.
The Weight of Caregiving
As a woman of faith, I understood that I was saying goodbye to my mother’s body — not her spirit.
But that body carried me.
It fed me.
It held me.
It protected me.
Watching her mortality while questioning my own felt like living in a paradox.
There was no space between grief and survival.
I wasn’t just grieving my mother.
I was grieving while trying to stay alive.
And in that season, I came to understand something I had previously only observed as a physician:
The incredible weight caregivers carry.
The invisible calculations.
The constant vigilance.
The way caregivers place their own pain on hold because someone else needs them more.
When Survivorship Became Another Diagnosis
I eventually completed treatment and believed the hardest part was behind me.
I was wrong.
In 2010, after participating in my first Susan G. Komen 3-Day walk in Chicago, I experienced another life-changing diagnosis:
Lymphedema.
The lymphatic system damage caused by cancer treatment resulted in permanent swelling of my right arm, hand, and fingers. The condition made performing clinical duties impossible.
And then I heard words no physician, patient, or human being should ever hear:
“A physician who is not clinically capable is of no value to me.”
At that moment, after cancer, heart disease, and loss, I questioned my own value.
But my story was not over.
From Survival to Purpose
I had a choice.
I could focus on everything I had lost.
Or I could take inventory of what I still had.
That choice changed everything.
I realized my life was not over.
It was being recreated.
That realization led me to become the Susan G. Komen 3-Day National Spokesperson, where for six years I traveled across the country educating thousands about breast health and survivorship.
But it also opened my eyes to another unmet need:
The millions of people living with lymphedema who lacked access to the resources necessary to manage their condition.
The Birth of LIVE Today Foundation
In 2017, I founded the LIVE Today Foundation with a mission to provide medically necessary compression garments to under-resourced cancer patients and survivors living with lymphedema.
Because survival should not mean suffering silently.
Since its founding, LIVE Today Foundation has provided more than 700 sets of free compression garments to cancer survivors across the United States.
Because survivorship is not the finish line.
Quality of life matters.
A Message for Healthcare Professionals
My keynote at NCBC was not simply my story.
It was a reminder.
Every patient sitting in front of us has a story beyond their diagnosis.
They have fears.
They have dreams.
They have families.
They have a life they are trying to reclaim.
As healthcare professionals, we have the privilege and responsibility to care for the whole person — not just the disease.
Treatment saves lives.
But compassion, advocacy, and survivorship support help people truly live.
Watch the Full Keynote
From Diagnosis to Destiny: Transforming Trauma into Purpose in Breast Cancer Care
Opening Keynote
National Consortium of Breast Centers (NCBC)
35th Annual Interdisciplinary Breast Center Conference
From Physician to Patient: The Journey That Redefined My Purpose
There are moments in life that divide everything into “before” and “after.”
For me, that moment came when I went from being a physician… to becoming a patient.
Up until that point, my life and career had been built on excellence, achievement, and service. I
had spent years training, leading, and caring for others. I understood medicine. I understood
systems. I understood what it meant to show up for patients.
Or at least, I thought I did.
But everything changed when I found myself on the other side of the diagnosis.
In that moment, I was no longer the one providing answers—I was the one searching for them.
No longer the one guiding others through uncertainty—I was the one walking through it.
And in that space, something profound happened.
I gained a perspective that no textbook, training, or title could ever give me.
The Perspective Shift
As physicians, we are trained to focus on outcomes, efficiency, and solutions. We are taught to
diagnose, treat, and move forward.
But as a patient, I experienced something entirely different.
I experienced vulnerability.
I experienced fear.
I experienced the emotional weight that so many patients carry—often silently.
And it was in that space that my understanding of healing began to expand.
Healing is not just physical.
It is emotional. It is spiritual. It is deeply personal.
That realization transformed not only how I see patients—but how I serve people.
When Purpose Is Revealed Through Pain
At the time, I didn’t understand why my journey had taken such an unexpected turn.
Like many people facing life-altering moments, I had questions.
Why is this happening? What does this mean? How do I move forward from here?
But over time, I began to see something I couldn’t see in the moment:
What I thought was loss… was actually alignment.
My experience didn’t take me away from my purpose—it clarified it.
It deepened my compassion. It strengthened my voice. It expanded my mission.
It allowed me to show up not just as a physician—but as someone who truly understands the
patient experience.
A New Way of Leading and Serving
Today, whether I am speaking to organizations, working in healthcare, or ministering to
individuals and communities around the world, I carry both perspectives with me.
The physician. And the patient.
That dual lens has shaped how I approach leadership, health equity, and human connection.
Because true impact doesn’t come from knowledge alone.
It comes from understanding. From empathy. From lived experience.
For Those in the Middle of Their Own “After”
If you are in a season right now where life doesn’t look the way you expected…
Where things feel uncertain, difficult, or unclear…
I want to encourage you with this:
You may not understand it right now.
But your story is not over.
Sometimes the very experiences that challenge us the most are the ones that prepare us for the
greatest impact.
What feels like disruption may actually be alignment.
What feels like loss may actually be purpose being revealed.
Closing Reflection
My journey from physician to patient didn’t take anything away from me.
It gave me something far greater:
Clarity of purpose.
And a deeper understanding of what it truly means to heal, to serve, and to lead.
God Sees the Hidden Woman: A Message of Hope for the Overlooked
Thousands of women gathered in Southeast Asia for the region’s second-largest women’s conference, and I had the humbling privilege of standing before them to deliver a message that has lived deep in my own spirit: God sees what the world often overlooks.
I didn’t come to that stage because I was strong and unshaken. I came as one who knows what it feels like to be invisible—through cancer, heart disease, divorce, and career loss. Yet in each of those hidden seasons, God showed me that what feels buried is often simply being planted for a greater purpose.
As Matthew 6:4 reminds us:
“Your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”
The God Who Sees
In Genesis 16, Hagar—mistreated and cast aside—fled into the desert, alone and pregnant. Yet scripture says: “The angel of the Lord found Hagar near a spring in the desert.” (Gen. 16:7)
God not only found her—He spoke life into her. He gave her a promise of descendants too numerous to count. In awe, Hagar named Him Jehovah El Roi—“The God who sees me.”
He is still the God who sees today. He sees the woman carrying water at sunrise. He sees the mother whispering prayers at midnight. He sees the daughter carrying burdens no one else notices. What is hidden from people is treasured by God.
Hidden Strength
Strength doesn’t always roar. Sometimes it’s silent. Sometimes it’s the kind of strength that shows up day after day, without applause or recognition.
Paul described it best: “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned.” (2 Cor. 4:8-9)
That is hidden strength. Strength rooted not in ourselves, but in the God who sustains us.
Buried or Planted?
Jesus taught: “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single
seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” (John 12:24)
When you feel hidden, overlooked, or buried, remember: burial in God’s hands is planting. What looks like the end is often the beginning of transformation.
God Honors the Hidden Woman
I know this from my own journey. In my darkest seasons, when no one saw my pain, God did. He saw not just the strong Dr. Sheri people recognized, but also the weary, broken, and fearful
me. And in seeing me, He lifted me, healed me, and gave me a new assignment: to speak life into others.
What He did for me, He can and will do for you.
Walking It Out
- Believe you are never invisible to Him.
- Receive His strength and mercies every morning.
- Persevere in faith—your harvest is coming.
- Support One Another like Ruth and Naomi, standing together in love.
A Final Word
Hagar said: “I have seen the One who sees me.” And today, you can say the same.
You are seen.
You are valued.
You are honored by God.
And that truth will never change.
Revival Across Tanzania – 9 Days of Healing, Hope & Harvest
There are no words that can fully express what we witnessed over the course of nine unforgettable days in Tanzania. From Katoro to Mwanza to Kahama, we experienced the power and presence of God in ways that will forever mark our hearts.
As Global Medical Director, Chief Communications Officer, and the Voice of Rod & Staff Global Ministries, I had the honor of once again standing on sacred ground with a team of faithful servants—declaring the name of Jesus, ministering healing to the sick, and watching as the Lord poured out His Spirit in every city we touched.
One Nation, Many Miracles
In each location, the spiritual hunger was undeniable. People came from near and far—some walking long distances, others bringing loved ones in need of deliverance or healing. They didn’t come for a show. They came for a Savior.
The worship was unrestrained. The preaching was Spirit-led. And the atmosphere? Charged with faith.
We saw bodies healed, hearts restored, and souls rescued from darkness. What moved me most was not just the miracles—it was the unity of believers from different regions, gathered with one focus: Jesus.
Tanzania’s Cry Was Met by Heaven’s Response
In Katoro, revival rose from the dust. In Mwanza, chains were broken in the presence of thousands. And in Kahama, the Lord sealed the week with a fresh wind of glory.
It was not simply an event. It was a move of God—sustained, undeniable, and burning still in the hearts of everyone who attended.
I left Tanzania physically exhausted, but spiritually revived. The joy on the faces of those we served, the testimonies of transformation, and the prayers lifted in unison from region to region—they remain with me.
A Ministry of Healing and Witness
These are not just crusades. They are sacred assignments. They are moments where heaven kisses earth, and the Kingdom advances—not in theory, but in power.
As always, I’m deeply grateful to serve on the frontlines of this global mission. And to Tanzania: thank you for receiving us with open arms and open hearts. The fire has been lit, and I know God will continue the work He started.
To God be the glory for the things He has done.
#DrSheriOnMission | #Tanzania2025 | #HealingHopeFaith | #RodAndStaffGlobal | #KingdomAdvancement | #FaithInAction | #GlobalMinistry | #PurposeInMotion | #WomenInMinistry | #AfricaShallBeSaved | #SpiritLedService | #MedicalMissionsWithPurpose
Why Lymphedema Screening Must Become a Standard Part of Cancer Care
Cancer survivorship is about more than eradicating cancer cells—it’s about the life that comes afterward. For millions of survivors, that life is shadowed by a complication few are warned about: lymphedema.
After my own breast cancer treatment, I developed severe lymphedema in my dominant arm. The swelling and pain forced me to leave my clinical practice and reimagine every part of daily living—from the clothes I wear to how I cook.
In the latest issue of Oncology Times, I shared my story and the urgent call for standardized lymphedema screening. Tools like bioimpedance spectroscopy (BIS), used in the SOZO device, can detect fluid changes before visible swelling starts. Early detection could spare countless survivors the irreversible challenges I now manage every day.
But this is also an equity issue. Black women are 3.5 times more likely to develop lymphedema than White women, yet many lack access to early screening and care. We must change this.
Survivorship should mean living fully—not simply surviving.
I hope you’ll read the article and join me in advocating for change.
[#CancerSurvivorship #LymphedemaAwareness #HealthEquity #LIVEtoday #PatientAdvocacy #OncologyTimes
A Holy Outpouring in Zambia – Empowering the Nations Crusade Recap
Lusaka, Zambia—a place already rich with spiritual fervor—became the epicenter of divine visitation during the Empowering the Nations Crusade, hosted by Rod & Staff Global Ministries. I had the tremendous honor of serving in my role as Global Medical Director, Ministry Spokesperson, and Voice of Rod & Staff, and I am still overwhelmed by the mighty move of God that unfolded over the course of three unforgettable nights.
Night One: When Heaven Met Earth
From the very first night, the hunger of the people ignited the atmosphere. The moment worship began, a wave of glory swept through the crowd. People cried out with passion, danced in the Spirit, and lifted their voices in a holy chorus. Healings took place before anyone laid hands. Chains were broken without invitation. It was raw, unfiltered, and entirely Spirit-led. The authentic fervor of the Zambian people set us on fire. We didn’t just witness revival—we were swept into it.
Night Two: Power Upon Power
The second night took us deeper. Miracles and testimonies multiplied. Salvations continued. And the Spirit of God hovered so tangibly, it was as though the very air pulsed with His presence. While our bodies were weary, our spirits were ignited. This was the kind of tired that comes from walking in divine purpose. What moved me deeply was watching the intergenerational hunger—from the young to the elderly, all were fully surrendered, fully expectant, and fully present.
Night Three: Fire Sealed in Glory
On the final night, it was clear we weren’t just in a crusade—we were standing in a moment of global prophetic fulfillment. News of the crusade had spread across national borders, and we were graced with the presence of delegates from Malawi, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Kenya, all of whom were with us from Day One. That night, the atmosphere shifted. We weren’t just ministering; we were witnessing God gather the nations. There was unity. There was power. There was purpose. Zambia didn’t just receive the Word—they helped amplify it.
Reflections from the Mission Field
As I reflect on all we saw and experienced—thousands touched by the love of Christ, nations represented in worship, and healing flowing freely—I’m reminded that revival has no borders. When we show up in obedience, God shows up in power.
I’m humbled. I’m strengthened. And I’m more committed than ever to continue carrying healing, hope, and the gospel to the ends of the earth.
To God be all the glory. Zambia, you have left an eternal imprint on my heart.
Cracked But Called: A Life-Changing Message for Women Around the World
Thousands of women gathered in Southeast Asia this year, and I had the incredible honor of standing before them to deliver a message birthed from my own journey: God does His greatest work through broken vessels.
I didn’t stand on that stage because I had it all together. I stood there as someone who has walked through storms—cancer, heart disease, divorce, career loss—and yet, by God’s grace, discovered a deeper calling through every crack and every broken place.
As 2 Corinthians 4:7 reminds us:
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”
We are fragile vessels, yet we carry an extraordinary treasure within us. Not because of our strength — but because of His.
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2008, it felt like the end. But through that pain, God began a new story. Even after developing a rare, life-threatening heart condition, even after my career in clinical medicine ended due to lymphedema, God’s grace became my strength. I learned firsthand that weakness does not disqualify you — it positions you for purpose.
Every crack, every loss, every detour led me to this moment — and to a message that I now carry around the world: You are not disqualified by your brokenness. You are called because of it.
And just like Esther in the Bible, who risked everything to fulfill her divine assignment, we too are living in a time that requires courage. We are here for such a time as this.
“And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” — Esther 4:14
If you’ve ever questioned your worth, your purpose, or your ability to lead from a place of brokenness — I invite you to watch this powerful moment from the Women’s Conference 2025.
It’s a testimony not just of survival, but of surrender. Not just of healing, but of hope.
Watch the video below and be reminded: Your cracks are the evidence of God’s calling.
Thank you to the thousands of women who opened their hearts and embraced the truth that brokenness is not the end of the story — it is the place where God’s glory shines brightest.
You, too, are here for such a time as this.
Choose Him — cracks and all.
Saving Lives Through Sales: My Keynote with Advanced Sterilization Products
What a powerful experience it was to speak to the incredible sales team at Advanced Sterilization Products (ASP) on January 29, 2025. ASP is an industry leader committed to infection prevention, and I had the honor of delivering a keynote that dug deeper than profit margins and quotas—it was about purpose, people, and patient safety.
My keynote, “Empowering Health Equity: The Transformative Role of Sterilization Sales Teams,” focused on how sales professionals play a vital role in reducing infection rates, particularly in hospitals that serve vulnerable populations. I shared stories from my childhood receiving care in underserved public hospitals—and contrasted them with the critical consequences of poor infection prevention I’ve witnessed in my medical career. One story that particularly moved the audience was about a young mother whose life was forever altered by an infection that could have been prevented.
I reminded the audience that health equity doesn’t start in the operating room—it starts with the people who provide the tools that make safe surgeries possible. Whether you’re a sales rep or a technician, you are part of a life-saving ecosystem. Every product sold is an opportunity to uplift healthcare workers, protect patients, and rebuild trust in healthcare systems that have historically underserved marginalized communities.
We explored powerful data, including how health care-associated infections are significantly higher in minority-serving hospitals, and how DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) isn’t just a moral imperative—it’s a business one. I encouraged ASP’s team to not just be sellers of equipment, but champions of health equity and advocates for the invisible heroes in sterilization departments—often overlooked but essential workers.
My challenge to them was this: “What will you do differently tomorrow? Will you see a sale as just a sale—or as the chance to save a life?”
It was an energizing, purpose-driven session, and I left inspired by the passion in the room. Sales is more than a transaction—it’s a transformation. And I’m proud to have been part of this transformative moment with ASP.