Patients

Dear Cancer, I Never Agreed to be With You

Dear Cancer,

May 1, 2022, will be our four-year anniversary. From day one, this “relationship” has only been one sided. I never agreed to be with you and for this to be a “‘till death do us part” commitment. I don’t even know how we became an “item.”

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.

Letting in the Light of Religion

The year was 2015. I was 29, about to turn 30, and had big plans for the future. I was finishing up my master’s degree in Jewish Education and Communal service, essentially nonprofit management in the Jewish world, and I was getting my ducks in a row to move to Israel.

The Little Things

The ultimate gift is time, but in an instant, it can feel as though time stops. The moment you’re told that you have cancer, your life changes, your perceptions of life change, and time stands still, as you know your life will be changed forever for better or worse. 

The Gift

In many instances, we either tell ourselves or so desperately want to believe everything happens for a reason. We usually associate that phrase when experiencing something negative or dreadful. The most common question we ask ourselves is “Why?”

The Botany of Breast Cancer Awareness Month

It’s a wonderful coincidence that elephants are my favorite animal. My elephants, my cancer, were lurking inside my private rooms. I’d been very reluctant to go public, to put a big reveal out into the world that I have breast cancer. I didn’t want to post an announcement online about my cancer.

The Overlook

Everything is so green. That’s what I remember thinking on the ride back to my apartment after my hospital stay. Being someone who enjoys spending time outside, two weeks of being stuck inside four white hospital room walls with a window overlooking a city street was pretty much torture, especially after a leukemia diagnosis.

Supergirl

It’s Tuesday, and I’m scheduled for another chemo day. I look excited, happy and hopeful, which shows in my cute outfits for chemo, how I carry a lot of energy filming and taking pictures trying to document the entire experience, and how I just look like an innocent lady who has no idea how cruel the world can be since I am the youngest patient in the room. 

What To Expect When You’re Not Expecting Cancer

Dear self that walked into the ER with abdominal pains not expecting the outcome to be cancer: First, I need you to take a deep breath. Exhale. Take another deep breath. Exhale.

Mama Tried

This letter is written to my sweet baby boy / Or would you have been a girl? / Honestly it doesn’t matter, I would have loved you either way / I would have loved every inch of you / From the top of your curly brown hair / Down to the bottom of your little brown feet