From Cancer Survivor to CEO: Building Fearlessly

This is the cancer survivor CEO piece I kept rewriting in my head for three years. I finally sat down and told it straight.

The day the scan came back

I was in between candidate calls when my phone rang. Even now, I remember the weather. I also remember the exact corner of my desk where my laptop sat, half-open, a pipeline report still loading. Then the nurse said the word and my brain did that thing where it goes completely quiet. No panic. No tears. Just a long white hallway inside my head and the sound of my own breathing.

Then I did what I have done every single time my life has tried to break me. So I opened a notebook and I wrote down what was true.

One, I have cancer. Two, I am still here. Three, I have work to do.

Positivity is a branding choice. Endurance is a character trait.

What cancer taught me that business school never could

As a cancer survivor CEO, I will tell you: every founder you admire is walking around with something. A scare. Maybe a loss. Often a secret. The ones who build real companies are not the ones who dodged the punches. Rather, they are the ones who got hit, stayed on their feet, and figured out how to keep moving with a cracked rib.

Cancer taught me three things I now use every single day.

First, time is the only currency that does not compound in your favor. Money compounds. Relationships compound. Time burns. When you have sat in a treatment chair looking at a shielded canister containing a radiation pill, you stop saying yes to things that do not matter. You stop taking coffee meetings with people who just want to pick your brain. You stop saying “I’ll get to it” about the candidate you know you should call.

Second, fear is a liar with a nice suit on. Every single fear I had before the diagnosis looked ridiculous after it. What if this retainer falls through. Or what if this hire does not close. Worse, what if they say no. I had been running my business from a flinch. I am not flinching anymore.

Third, your body is the asset. Not your calendar. I used to brag about working twelve-hour days. Now, however, I do not brag about that. I train my body and my mind, I sleep at least six to seven hours a night, and I out-bill the people who are still proud of their hustle. Ultimately, recovery is a competitive advantage.

The Quiet Rebuild of a Cancer Survivor CEO

I did not initially announce the diagnosis on LinkedIn. That came later, in my own timing, when I was ready to share it with my community on my own terms. In the beginning I said nothing. I did not turn it into a content series. Instead, I kept working, quieter than I had ever worked, and I rebuilt my business from the studs up.

I fired three clients who treated recruiters like vending machines. Then I raised my retainer and fees. I also wrote a book. I got sober and I held that line through every scan.

None of this was on a vision board. It was on a bedside table, in a notebook, in handwriting that got steadier as my bloodwork did.

Why This Cancer Survivor CEO Built Recruiter Hustle Differently

I built this company as a cancer survivor CEO who refuses to do recruitment the way most firms do it. Most recruiting firms optimize for volume. Instead, I optimize for depth. One phone call with an executive leader before a single resume gets sent. Then one hiring manager per role, not a committee of people who cannot agree on what they want. And ultimately one candidate presented at a time, not five to make it look like I am working.

This is not a hack. It is what you do when you have been reminded that you will not be here forever. You stop pretending. Then you stop padding. Instead, you do the work the way it should be done and you charge accordingly.

In fact, my best clients are founders who have been through something. Cancer. A sober year. A brutal exit. An immigration story. A bankruptcy. They do not want a polished pitch deck from their recruiter. They want someone who has sat in the quiet hallway and come back with a notebook.

What This Cancer Survivor CEO Tells Founders Who Are Scared

Still, I get these DMs every week. A founder in the middle of a diagnosis. A CEO who just lost a parent. An operator who is quietly coming apart while the deck says everything is green.

So here is what I tell them.

One, you are allowed to be scared and still run your company. The two are not mutually exclusive. I ran mine through surgery. Executives and founders I respect have run theirs through worse.

Two, pick the three things that actually move the business this quarter and let everything else go. Not delegated. Gone. You do not have the bandwidth for strategic fluff right now.

Three, tell one person the truth. Not your whole team. Not the internet. One human who will check on you without turning it into a content moment. Mine was my sister.

Four, do the next small thing. Send the email. Take the call. Close the laptop. Eat the meal. Sleep the sleep. Founders who survive hard seasons survive them one small correct action at a time.

The part I do not put in keynote decks

Naturally, people ask me how I stayed positive. I did not. Honestly, I was terrified. I cried in the car before calls. Meanwhile, I wrote letters to people I love in case the scans went the other way. And on the mornings I did not want to get out of bed, I got out of bed anyway.

Where This Cancer Survivor CEO Stands Now

I am a cancer survivor CEO running an executive search practice and a media platform. Recruiter Hustle serves recruiters, finance, and talent leaders. I still place C-suite and VP talent across AI, fintech, healthcare, and consumer through the executive recruiter’s playbook I have refined over 26 years. These days, I work with founders and executive leaders who want one recruiter who sees the whole picture, not a team of junior sourcers running a lottery.

I still open a notebook when something hard happens. Then I still write down what is true. After that, I still pick the three things that matter. The method did not change. The stakes did.

If you are in it right now

If you are reading this from a hospital parking lot or a bathroom floor or a car you pulled over in because the news was too big for the office, here is what I want you to know from one cancer survivor CEO to another founder in the middle of their hardest season.

You are not behind. And you are not falling apart. Rather, you are being rebuilt from the inside out into a founder who will make decisions that founders who have never been tested cannot make.

Open the notebook. Write what is true. Do the next small thing.

I will be cheering for you from here. One cancer survivor CEO to another.

Cathy Trinh is a cancer survivor CEO and founder of Recruiter Hustle, a media platform for recruiters, finance, and talent leaders. She runs an executive search practice placing C-suite and VP talent for founder-led companies, family offices, and enterprise teams across Southern California and beyond. She is a Vietnamese immigrant, cancer survivor, author, and humanitarian, and is seven-plus years sober. Heart. Human. Hustle.

Heart. Human. Hustle.
Cathy