Meet Sheeree Pate: Stage 4 T-cell Lymphoma Survivor

Sheeree Pate is a stage 4 T-cell lymphoma survivor, wife, mother of two, and author of BUT GOD: Chosen to Endure, Called to Rise. Through her writing, she shares her experience with cancer, motherhood, faith, and emotional healing to encourage others facing difficult battles.

I Was Afraid My Children Would Grow Up Without Me: My Journey Through Stage 4 Cancer

When I heard the words “Stage 4 T-cell lymphoma,” I couldn't believe they were talking about me.

I was a wife, a mother of two, and a woman who had plans for her future. I had a young baby at home and a daughter who still needed her mommy. Cancer was never part of the life I imagined.

I was only in my thirties. At my age, I should have been thinking about raising my children, building my career, and making memories with my family. Instead, I found myself wondering how much time I had left.

And one question haunted me more than anything else.

What if my children have to grow up without me?

When My Life Changed

My symptoms began after the birth of my son. I experienced pain, swelling, night sweats, and difficulty walking. At first, I never imagined that something so serious was happening inside my body.

Eventually, medical appointments, scans, and biopsies led to a diagnosis that changed everything.

Stage 4 T-cell lymphoma.

I remember struggling to accept it. I didn't want to believe that cancer had entered my life, especially while I was still adjusting to being a mother of two.

But cancer doesn't wait until you're ready.

Suddenly, my life revolved around appointments, hospital rooms, blood tests, medications, and treatment plans.

I underwent six rounds of chemotherapy over approximately four months. My body became weaker, and the simplest activities sometimes felt impossible.

I was no longer just fighting cancer. I was fighting to feel like myself again.

The Nights I Was Afraid I Would Die

One of the most terrifying parts of my journey happened when cancer affected my lungs.

Fluid accumulated around my lungs, making breathing extremely difficult. I needed procedures to drain the fluid and eventually found myself in the intensive care unit.

There were moments when I could barely breathe. My heart was racing, my body was exhausted, and I was surrounded by medical equipment.

I remember being afraid that I might not make it out of the hospital.

But what hurt the most wasn't the physical pain.

It was thinking about my children.

Would my son remember me? Would my daughter remember the sound of my voice? Would my husband have to raise our children without me?

Those thoughts were more painful than any needle, procedure, or chemotherapy treatment.

People often talk about how strong cancer patients are. But there were nights when I didn't feel strong at all.

I cried. I was afraid. I felt overwhelmed.

And sometimes, I simply wanted to go home and hold my children.

When Cancer Came Back

After completing chemotherapy, I experienced something every cancer patient hopes for.

Remission.

For a little while, I believed the worst was behind me.

But approximately two months later, cancer returned.

Hearing that news was devastating.

I had already endured so much. I had gone through chemotherapy, serious infections, hospitalizations, and the painful process of rebuilding my strength.

Now I was being told that I had to face cancer again.

I struggled emotionally. There were moments of sadness, anger, exhaustion, and fear.

I wondered how much more my body could take.

I also wondered how much more my family could endure.

Cancer doesn't only affect the person diagnosed. It reaches into the lives of spouses, children, parents, siblings, and everyone who loves them.

My family was fighting a battle alongside me, even though they weren't the ones receiving treatment.

When Faith Became More Than Words

I have always believed in Jesus Christ, but cancer brought me to a place where my faith became deeply personal.

There were moments when I couldn't control what was happening to my body, when medical reports frightened me, and when the future felt uncertain.

I prayed through tears.

I prayed when I was afraid.

I prayed when I didn't understand why this was happening.

One Scripture became especially meaningful to me:

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10 (KJV)

Being still wasn't easy. I wanted answers. I wanted healing. I wanted to know that I would be there for my children's birthdays, school activities, and all the ordinary moments that suddenly felt precious.

My family, church, pastor, and friends surrounded me with prayer and encouragement.

During my journey, I faced difficult decisions about further treatment. Those decisions were deeply personal and made during a time of tremendous physical and emotional strain.

My faith was central to how I navigated them, but I know every person's medical circumstances and choices are different.

I would never tell another cancer patient to stop treatment or follow my decisions. Every person deserves compassionate medical care, accurate information, and the freedom to make informed choices with their healthcare team.

The Scan I Never Expected

After everything I had experienced, another PET scan brought news I had desperately hoped to hear.

There was no evidence of active cancer.

I cannot fully describe what that moment meant to me.

After chemotherapy, relapse, hospitalizations, and nights when I feared I wouldn't survive, I was hearing words that once seemed impossible.

I give God the glory for my journey and the strength I found through my faith.

At the same time, I recognize that cancer outcomes are complex. I cannot claim to know exactly why my scans changed, and I don't believe someone's faith can be measured by whether their cancer goes away.

Some people survive. Some continue treatment for years. Others face heartbreaking outcomes.

Every story matters.

What Cancer Taught Me About Living

Cancer changed the way I see life.

Before my diagnosis, I sometimes took ordinary moments for granted.

Now, watching my children laugh, preparing meals, going to work, or simply waking up in my own bed carries a different meaning.

I also learned that surviving cancer doesn't mean forgetting what happened.

There are memories that stay with me. The hospital rooms. The fear. The uncertainty. The moments when I wondered whether I would ever return home.

Healing emotionally is its own journey.

My experience eventually inspired me to write BUT GOD: Chosen to Endure, Called to Rise, a memoir about faith, fear, suffering, and finding hope during life's most difficult battles.

Writing became one way to process what I had endured and encourage others.

But the most important message I want to share is not about my book.

It is about the person reading this who may be sitting in a hospital room right now, frightened by a diagnosis or exhausted from treatment.

I want you to know that your fear doesn't make you weak.

You don't have to pretend to be strong every day.

You are allowed to cry, ask questions, seek support, and admit that you're tired.

And whether you're newly diagnosed, undergoing treatment, living with cancer, in remission, or grieving someone you've lost, your story deserves to be heard.

I once feared that my children would grow up without me.

Today, I am grateful for every opportunity I have to be their mother.

I don't know everything tomorrow holds.

But I know I want to spend the life I've been given loving deeply, living purposefully, and reminding others that even in the darkest moments, hope can still exist.