Check Out Natalie Grumet’s Story

Today we’d like to introduce you to Natalie Grumet

Hi Natalie, thanks for sharing your story with us. To start, maybe you can tell our readers some of your backstory.
In August 2007, just days after my 27th birthday, I found myself sitting across from an oncologist, hearing words that didn’t feel real. This is not my life. This is not my life. The thought repeated in my head like a warning. I was too young. I had only been married four years. My husband and I had just bought our first home. We were starting to dream about a family. Yet there I was—hearing the words: Cancer. Stage 2. Grade 3. Highly aggressive. Fast growth rate. High recurrence. Lower survival rates.

I had been misdiagnosed for six months despite persistent pain. It wasn’t until I insisted on an MRI that they found a 2 cm mass. I learned the hard way that being your own advocate can save your life. That lesson became one of the most important of my life.

September was a whirlwind—bone scans, CTs, PET scans, biopsies, port placement. My body became a medical battlefield. By October 1st, as the world turned pink for Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I began my first round of chemotherapy. By Halloween, I was bald. But I was also a fighter. October became the month I began to fight for my life.

Year by year, remission became a reality. I reached out to other women facing the same battle, offering whatever hope and understanding I could. When I hit the five-year mark, my oncologist “graduated” me to annual visits. I celebrated every August 31st—the day of my diagnosis—and every October as my personal victory month.

Then came my ten-year remission anniversary. I was just beginning to feel like I could finally breathe, finally move forward.

But on October 1st, 2017—exactly ten years after I began my fight against cancer —I was reminded again how fragile life can be.

I was in Las Vegas, attending the final night of the Route 91 Harvest music festival. The day had been slow and sweet, and I remember smiling at my phone screen that morning—it was October 1st, and I love the fall.

That night would become the largest mass shooting in the history of the United States.

As the music played and people danced, the first shots rang out. Confusion swept through the crowd of 22,000. Then came the realization. We were under attack. I felt a sudden, explosive impact on the left side of my face, followed by searing pain. I had been shot.
I hit the ground, bullets raining down around us. I knew my injuries were critical. But I also knew what it meant to fight for my life. And I remember thinking: There’s no way I’ve survived 10 years of remission to die here tonight.

I knew I did not have the luxury of falling a part, that my survival depended on staying calm and getting to safety. I can say that my mind went to the last 10 years of my life. I felt the intensity of that hit my heart with such force. It was like I was instantly reminded of every hurdle I had ever crossed; all those impossible moments being overcome. Despite so many odds against me, a feeling I was no stranger to, I was determined to make it. Chaos continued around us as people screamed and cried. During a brief reprieve of gunfire, we decided to run to the next cover spot. As I got up to run I saw for the first time the full carnage around me. There are no previous life experiences to prepare you for being on open field, under gunfire, with innocent people so violently killed around you. I passed an immense amount of tragedy on that field. It nearly killed me to keep running past these people who were lifeless. The next break in gunfire we ran through a fence that had been pushed over by the thousands of people trying to escape. We spilled on to a side street that backed up to the employee entrance of the Tropicana hotel. We had been under fire for 11 minutes, the longest 11 minutes of my life. . Thousands of people poured onto the streets fleeing for their life. The gravity of the situation became more intense as I looked for help. I followed the crowds in to the Tropicana hotel. I had no idea what I looked like but as people saw me, they stepped aside and the fear that registered in their faces by my appearance made my heart skip a beat. I was taken to a back room that they were doing triage in. An EMT, probation officer, an orthopedic surgeon and his wife a surgical nurse had all been at the concert and were now helping to take care of the wounded. It was as if God had assembled the A team for me in my darkest hour. They stabilized me as we awaited help. I would go on to spend the next 4 days in the ICU at Sunrise Hospital in Las Vegas. I had lost 1/3 of my blood supply and needed an emergency blood transfusion. I was intubated for 3 days and then given a tracheotomy to keep my airway open and help me breath. My husband and my family were given the news that my left jaw had been destroyed on impact from the bullet and my chin had fractured in half. The two major nerves that run along the jaw line had been destroyed. One of these nerves controls feeling and the other controls movement. I was essentially paralyzed on the left lower section of my face. On day 4 I was stable enough to be air ambulanced to Mission Hosptial in Orange County California. I would go on to spend another 16 days in ICU and start years of recovery.

It has been 8 years since the shooting and I have had over 15 surgeries, 4 different hospital stays. I am forever grateful for all the incredible people in my life who have helped me recover. I have come to appreciate that our lives our built-on adversity. Each of us is made up of the challenges and obstacles we have faced. We each have our own story; what life has unfairly handed us and how we have chosen to react. Your own warrior moments. Having cancer 18 years ago gave me the coping skills to tackle anything. To face fear head on and realize the immense power one has in adjusting their mindset in the midst of tragedy. My surviving the unsurvivable has only connected me deeper to my ability of perseverance. I realized I will not be able to piece together myself the same ever again and more importantly, I don’t have to. I am collectively held together by the love and support of family and friends. Almost dying that night has become a physical and daily reminder to cherish the beautiful gift of life. We are not given promises that it will be easy or without challenge. I can say that through my own personal life experiences I have even more reason to find joy where there was loss, love where there was hate, and understanding where there was judgement. When our faith is tested the most is when we must not only choose hope, but be hope, speak hope, live hope. It is the embracing of the beautiful life we are given, all of the broken and whole parts, that ultimately completes us.
This is my life. This is my story.

Alright, so let’s dig a little deeper into the story – has it been an easy path overall and if not, what were the challenges you’ve had to overcome?
While the physical components of my recovery have been difficult, the emotional struggles have been just as challenging. The year I had cancer my life was full of diagnostic tests, 6 rounds of grueling chemotherapy, low blood counts needing painful injections to increase my white blood count, mild congestive heart failure, a bilateral mastectomy, and reconstruction. But piece by piece I had to learn to rebuild myself. I felt this time clock ticking away on top of me; especially in the beginning. Would I reach my 30th birthday? Would I get the chance to grow old with my husband? Start a family? Would my parents be given the horrible moment of burying their child? These thoughts consumed me initially. Life is not meant to be lived by simply going through the basic motions, thriving in hope is everything when you are promised nothing I realized. Of course there will hard moments and we are all entitled to have our down days- but don’t you dare stay there I told myself! Fear and despair are normal emotions during such difficult times…they should be things we pass through, not stay in. One of the biggest things that had helped me was connecting to other people going through cancer. They were like oxygen to me. I saw the profound effect of sharing your story and how that would lead to a deep bond with others who were also battling something similar. I decided in that moment that I needed to get well so that I to could pass on the torch of hope to others, like so many countless cancer survivors did for me. The ability to be the beacon of light in someone else’s darkest moment is life changing, not only for them but you as well.

As you know, we’re big fans of you and your work. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about what you do?
Volunteering has been a deeply healing journey for me. After surviving a mass shooting and cancer, my life was forever changed. The physical and emotional scars are real, but I’ve found strength, purpose, and a sense of peace through giving back.

Today, I sit on the board of a nonprofit THE Breast Cancer Fundraiser that meets the tangible needs of breast cancer patients through our WeGive program. Our mission is to preserve the dignity of breast cancer patients and their loved ones by providing tangible, compassionate care. We provide connection to those navigating breast cancer, one of the hardest times in their lives. It’s personal for me—this cause, this mission—because I know what it’s like to feel vulnerable and in need of support.

I also volunteer at Mission Hospitals Leonard Cancer Institute—the very same hospital that helped save my life after the shooting. Walking through those halls, I remember what it felt like to be a patient, to be afraid, to be held up by the kindness of strangers. Now, I get to be part of that kindness. In addition I am also a proud member of the hospital’s Patient Family Advisory Council, I help bring the patient voice to the table, ensuring that care remains compassionate, respectful, and human.

And because healing from trauma is not a solo act, I also serve on the board of a nonprofit The Country Strong Project that supports mass shooting survivors. Through community events and shared experiences, we create space to grieve, to connect, and to rebuild together.

Volunteering isn’t just about giving back—it’s about reclaiming power. It’s about transforming pain into purpose. And for me, it’s been a vital part of my healing. Which led me to becoming a keynote speaker. I have been sharing the coping mechanisms I developed over the last 18 years to help others break down the walls to realize their full potential and overcome adversity. Sharing my story of a life being shattered and rebuilt in a mere decade has given strength and hope to thousands of people across the United States and world. My message is one of perseverance and shared to help others find their inner warrior to keep fighting and moving forward. If sharing my story helps one person – it is worth it.

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Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.nataliegrumet.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/natalie_grumet/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/warriorNatalie/
• Other: https://www.thebreastcancerfundraiser.org/

Image Credits
Frankie Batista
https://frankiebatista.com/