Dear Cancer, Three Years Have Gone By

Dear Cancer,

Three years have gone by and I still have a radiation mask sitting in my closet that once bolted me down to a cold and tall table. Three years have gone by and I have a box in my bedroom filled with every card, every hospital band, every single tangible item anyone gave to me sitting in my “cancer box” because I can’t seem to get rid of anything. Three years have gone by and every time I look to the floor of my bedroom I see clumps of hair that fell out of my head that I once had to vacuum up. Three years have gone by and I still remember what it’s like to feel like every bone in my body was breaking apart inside me. Three years have gone by and I still wonder how different my life may have been if I never got sick. Three years have gone by and I still remember what it feels like to have absolutely no energy nor appetite from chemo. Three years have gone by and sometimes at random times I can smell the smell of chemo even though I’m just sitting at home or in my car. Three years have gone by and every time I get a cough I think I’ve relapsed. Three years have gone by and I still remember making the anesthesiologist promise me not to let anyone take off my hat during my surgery because I didn’t want anyone to see me bald. Three years have gone by and I still remember what it felt like laying on a radiation table, bolted down, naked and scared. Three years have gone by and I can list out my chemotherapy drug names faster than I can say my actual full name. Three years have gone by and I wake up every single day with guilt trying to understand why I’m “fine” and many others, including multiple family members have died from this very same disease. Three years have gone by and I can still remember walking into the cancer clinic surrounded by other children half my age getting the same treatment I was getting. Three years have gone by and I still have goodbye notes that I had written to all my family and friends sitting in a locked folder in my phone for a just in case situation. Three years have gone by and I know all the signs of septic shock by heart and I could probably tell a nurse exactly what meds they should give me in case of an emergency. Three years have gone by and I still remember the feeling of being in an ambulance for the first time. Three years have gone by and my oncologist is still on speed dial on my phone. Three years have gone by and I still look in the mirror and see two different people staring back at me. Three years have gone by and I still remember. Every single second of it. That’s the long story short of the impact you’ve left.

Cancer, I’m angry that you came into my life when you did. I’m angry you’ve stolen what was my first year of college and I’m angry you’ll linger in the background for what’s left of it. I’m angry I had to learn to smile through the pain and I’m angry that that’s the life lesson I learned at only eighteen. I’m angry you made me fall behind while I sat and watched the rest of the world continue on in ways I couldn’t. I’m angry that even though you’re not here anymore, you’re never really gone. I’m angry because in every thought that passes, you’re there, maybe not as big as you once were but nonetheless, there. A constant reminder of what was, and what could have been. I’d like to think that getting sick & having cancer made me a kinder human, and that it made me stronger, and maybe it did – But the truth is, I didn’t need to be stronger or kinder. I was strong and kind before. So instead, I hope that this happened to me for something bigger than I can understand now.

Cancer, you have taken more from me that anything else could in a lifetime. My world literally came crashing down right before my very eyes and I had no choice but to do what doctors told me to. I’ve spent the past 3 years trying to fix what cancer has broken. I’ve wondered when this can be something that I can truly put behind me and I’ve come to realize that it might not be something I can ever do. So I let this be my farewell in a sense. I can wholeheartedly say that I am proud of the person I am today, not because of what has happened to me but who I’ve become in spite of it all – most importantly in spite of you.