CJ Alvarado

My name is Christina Alvarado, and I am raising support for The Breasties Inc because no one should face breast or gynecologic cancer alone. I have seen how isolating diagnoses can be, and I believe deeply in the power of community, honest conversation, and side-by-side support. The Breasties creates safe spaces for survivors, previvors, stage 4 thrivers, and caregivers to share, heal, and fight together, and I want to help that work grow. The Breasties offers peer-to-peer connection, vital resources, and advocacy that change the day-to-day lives of people impacted by cancer. Their programs help people find real companionship, practical guidance, and emotional strength when it matters most. For too many, the hardest part is feeling invisible. The Breasties shows up and makes sure no one feels forgotten. I am asking you to join me in supporting this incredible community. Your gift helps The Breasties expand its outreach, deepen its services, and make sure more people have a circle of care when they need it most. Please donate today to stand with survivors, previvors, thrivers, and caregivers. Your support brings connection, hope, and real impact to the cancer community.

Sun Oct 18th 2026: Three days of radiation this week This coming Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, I'll receive three rounds of radiation to the spine. After additional scans and rechecks by radiologists, I returned to NYP in Washington Heights last week for my CT simulation for T12 and T1. When I arrived, I was told they don't think T1 needs treatment at this time, and that they'll be radiating T11, NOT T12. Someone had miscounted in the original report. Needless to say, that was unsettling. In the past month, I've already had 11 doctor's appointments, and now three more by the end of the week. What happens after radiation depends on how my body responds. We wait another 6-8 weeks to find out. I'm really trying my best to stay positive and push myself every single day that I'm well enough. But I'm tired. This entire year I've lived in 6-8 week intervals, just handling side effects and waiting for results, only to have nonstop progression. I keep struggling to find grounding in a world that shows no future when you can't make plans two months ahead of time. Because… what the fuck is time now? I really don't know. I'm rambling. Every radiation session, lab day, and scan means more copays, gas, tolls, and parking, and I have three sessions this week alone, with more behind them. I was hoping to put recent donations toward more advocacy training and breast cancer symposiums, because going to D.C. meant so much to me. Supporting other women battling this disease helps us push for better care, and for more "time."

METAvivor Stage IV Stampede — Washington, D.C. & pending new line of treatment. Because of your generosity, I was able to travel to Washington, D.C., last week to participate in the METAvivor Stage IV Stampede. Alongside other people living with Stage IV metastatic breast cancer, I met with our congressional representatives’ staff to share our personal experiences and advocate for four new bills that could make a meaningful difference in the lives of people living with MBC. We discussed the realities of living with Stage IV cancer and the changes needed to improve access to care, strengthen financial support for patients, improve the data used to track metastatic breast cancer, and increase funding for research. These meetings gave us the opportunity to put real faces and personal stories behind the policies we’re asking our legislators to support. Being part of this experience meant so much to me. Your donations helped make it possible for me to show up, use my voice, and advocate for changes that could benefit the entire MBC community. Thank you for helping me do more than navigate my own cancer journey. You’ve helped me show up for others, too. Some of you already know that my cancer has continued to spread throughout this year. My current treatment, oral chemotherapy (Xeloda) with Lupron injections, may not be strong enough to control the disease. I’m currently working with my doctors to determine whether additional radiation is an option or if it’s officially time to move into intravenous chemotherapy. My nerves are shot, and I’m exhausted. But even while dealing with the devastation of this terminal disease, advocating for change gave me something I haven’t felt since my diagnosis: a sense of purpose. For the first time since this cancer journey began, I felt like I was doing something that mattered beyond my own pain. I was using my voice and my experience to help push for change that could make a difference for others living with MBC. That feeling meant more to me than I can explain. Thank you for helping make that possible. ❤️ More to come.

UPDATE: October 11, 2026 I’m responding to the oral chemotherapy, but not completely. Some areas have responded very well, especially the liver, where several spots have decreased in size. Some even appear to have healed. Unfortunately, my spine hasn’t responded as well and two vertebrae (T12 and T1) now show new cancer growth. I spoke with NYP’s radiology team yesterday, and they believe additional radiation to the spine could be very effective. However, we still need more scans and input from my new orthopedic surgeon before determining the best course of action. Once all my specialists have the test results they need, they’ll collaborate to determine the best plan for my next line of treatment. My hope is that I can continue this oral chemotherapy while adding radiation where needed. I don’t WANT more radiation but in almost three years of treatment, this is the most like myself I’ve felt since this journey began. So I’m praying that with radiation, I can get more time out of the oral chemo (Xeloda). If that’s not an option, we officially move on to intravenous chemotherapy. So, as usual, it’s “to be continued.” I’m trying to stay positive, but this isn’t the response I was hoping for. It isn’t the worst but it isnt’ the best either. I needed a couple of days to process the news and coordinate my next steps with my doctors. More to come. ❤️

It's officially Breast Cancer Awareness Month and I can really use some help. I received a travel stipend for the METAvivor Summit & Stampede on Capitol Hill, October 5th-6th, but I still need $350-500 for hotel costs, gas, food, tolls, and poster supplies to show up and fight for stage 4 research funding and faster clinical trial access. Very soon I'll find out whether Xeloda is actually working. I've been on this oral chemo for two months now, and I've had nonstop progression all year. If this new line of treatment shows that it's NOT working, we move straight into a more aggressive IV chemo and everything changes again. The fear before scan results never gets easier. My scan results are currently sitting in my portal as we speak, but I don't have the courage to open them. Usually I do. But after the nonstop blows these past couple of years, I just don't have the strength today. So I'm waiting to hear the final answer directly from my NYP oncologist tomorrow, Friday, Oct 2nd. Along with my liver, the cancer has continued to spread throughout my bones and several vertebrae, and last week I learned I have new areas of bone marrow deterioration. As my body weakens with treatment, it's making my severe scoliosis and spondylolisthesis deformities worse — which needless to say has been increasingly painful. I'll soon start physical therapy and rehabilitation for my spine along with other integrative medicine. Without it, I'm looking at another spinal fusion, which would require pausing cancer treatment, and I'm fighting to avoid any part of that saga. Ongoing funding for: copays and out-of-pocket costs including, but not limited to — required in-office treatment injections, infusions, PT and rehab, parking, gas, tolls, several new specialists, manual lymphatic drainage, and other integrative medicine. SSDI at $2500 per month does not cover even basic living needs, let alone all a mountain of medical costs. Things I hope for in the future: $2,500 for a specialist consultation with Dr. Kennisha Reynolds, a naturopathic and functional medicine physician in San Diego, to review my case and build real nutrient and strength support into this treatment — not the standard hospital nutritionist, but targeted care to help my body withstand this chemo. The stage 4 community has pushed back on pink-washing for years. That pink ribbon doesn't show the reality — the scans, the bone deterioration, the chemo, the fear. It's a marketing color, not our lives. So I ask that you keep following my stories this month as I try to advocate and educate for a better and healthier country. If you can give $10, $20, or $50 toward the D.C. trip right now — tap the donate button. It adds up faster than you think. Follow along as I document this fight in real time: Instagram: @cjvscancer @thepeoplevscancer

Hello Dear Friends and Loved Ones, Along with the loss of the legendary Dolly Parton and Tim Curry, we’ve lost more incredible women to cancer this past week. Almost every single week, I lose another kind and beautiful woman from the metastatic breast cancer community — young and old. Last week we lost a mother of two at only 36 years old. A couple of days later, I heard of another. And then another. I’m due for a bunch of follow-ups and scans this month — everything from my bones and organs, to my brain, to my knees. We’ll finally see if this oral chemo is doing anything for me. Until then, I’m doing my best to stay as calm and patient as possible. I’m holding onto hope that this new line of treatment gives me even a few extra months before I have to change medications all over again. I’m also super grateful to have some of my BFFs fly in from LA and Colorado to take care of me for a few days and shower me with love, healthy food and laughter. While news continued to get rough, I had the beautiful distraction of these amazing souls by my side. As always, thank you ALL for checking in on me. Thank you for your donations. Thank you for following my cancer journey despite how hard the content may be. Love and light to you all. More to come. Christina (CJ) ❤️

Hello Dear Friends and Loved Ones, Quick update because a lot of you have been checking in. I just finished round 3 of Xeloda, an oral chemo. So as of now, no additional infusion chairs or IVs, just a bunch of extra pills at home. One week on, one week off, then start again. It’s not as bad as I was fearing but it’s also not easy. And this treatment builds in the system as the weeks pass, so I’m trying to calmly anticipate additional side effects. The “on” week hits pretty hard. The “off” week isn’t really rest, it’s recovery. By the time my body starts to feel like mine again, it’s time to start the next round. I’m learning the rhythm of it and I’m grateful. Because things could be worse. My new oncologist at NYP is keeping close tabs on me and we plan to do scans at the end of Sept/early Oct, to see if this oral chemo is working. So right now I’m just in it: getting through each cycle and trying not to let the waiting eat me alive. What I do know is that every single one of you — the donations, the texts, the “thinking of you” that shows up on exactly the day I need it — is getting me through rounds like this one. I don’t say that lightly. More to come once I have news from the scans. With love, Christina ❤️