Dear Cancer

Dear Cancer, Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining

Dear Cancer,

In November 2021, I was diagnosed with you after five weeks of hospital appointments, scans, and blood tests. I was 28 years old. I am 29 years old now and eight cycles into chemotherapy, with four more to go before the next progress scan.

Dear Cancer, You Have Awakened Me

Dear Cancer,

You showed up when I least expected it. I suppose that’s how it always goes. I remember the air being sucked from my lungs for a brief minute, then, awkwardly, my mind went still, and I just stared out the window.

Dear Cancer, Thank You for Helping Me Find Myself

Dear Breast Cancer,

Thank you.

Thank you for helping me find myself.
Thank you for releasing toxicity in my life.
Thank you for restoring my smile.
Thank you for forcing me to set boundaries.

Dear Cancer, I Never Expected You

Dear Cancer,

Before meeting you, I was so distracted. I lived such an unintentional life, carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t know how to forgive. I was consumed with bitterness and annoyance at everything in me and around me.

Dear Cancer, You Inflict Pain

Dear Cancer,

I am writing to express my anger regarding the pain you have caused. You have taken many things from my life that I will never be able to get back. 

My grievances began in 1993 at the age of five when you first arrived.

Dear Cancer, I Knew I Had to Survive

Dear Cancer, 

I hate you. You took more from me than you will ever know. There I was, newly married, thirty years old, running half marathons, when you decided to invade my body and life. I had been sick for nine months, vomiting every day and seeing doctor after doctor, and no one could figure out what was wrong with me.

Dear Cancer, You Failed

Dear Stage 2 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma,

We met in 2020 during a pandemic. So, I guess you wanted to be memorable. I am not sure what else your agenda was, but If it was to defeat me, I am sorry that you failed at that mission.

Dear Cancer, This Has Not Been a Linear Journey

Dear Cancer,

Last year I wrote you a letter like this one, but now I am in a very different place, and I have a lot more to say. Last year when I wrote to you, I was a 23-year-old patient struggling with the effects of chemo. Now I am a 24-year-old survivor trying to heal and find my footing again.

Dear Cancer, I Feel So Much Guilt

Why do you choose to end my friends’ lives instead of mine? They’re parents and spouses too. Some of them had much less time with their kids than I have had with mine. All of them were so accomplished and loving. I feel so much guilt over this.

Dear Cancer, It’s Time For You To Go

Most importantly, every night I talk with God and am assured that this is not my time. Not today, cancer. I am comforted as my hands dance across each rosary bead.