Survivorship

Dear Cancer: Twisted Symbiosis

Dear Cancer,

When you made my blood your home, I understood you. I always wanted to feel like I belonged somewhere. Walking through my middle school during overcast January days, I kept my head down, unsure of who thought of me as a friend or as a convenient distraction from their own loneliness.

An Open Letter to My Cancer, Dirty Gertie 

Dear Cancer (a.k.a. Dirty Gertie),

I hope this letter finds you unwell. More accurately, I assume—with fingers crossed—that this letter finds you dead and gone. Unfortunately, my total confidence in your demise has been restricted by a single, nagging whisper that constantly threatens: “What if it comes back?”

Dear Cancer: An Evolution of Hope and Advocacy

Dear Cancer,

It is with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and determination that I address you today. You, who once infiltrated my life with fear and uncertainty, have now become a symbol of resilience, hope, and the power of human spirit.

Hidden But Not Forgotten: A Story About Refractory Cancer

Dear Cancer,

I remember being diagnosed with you back when I was 27. How the simple words, “You have cancer,” changed my life in an instant. I was alone with a pathologist and a radiologist, not exactly hearing the words that were being spoken to me.

Dear Cancer, I Will Never Bow Down to You

Dear Cancer,

You entered my life before I could even form my first official memory, as if you wanted me to come into this world knowing only pain and suffering. You broke my parents’ hearts and stole their hopes of having another happy, healthy baby.

Cancer and Cookies

My advice as an elevator pitch:

Cancer fucking sucks, but you don’t!!!! This cancer journey is about you. Keep that in mind. Balance will be the key. Knowledge is power; take notes, ask questions, and be curious. You don’t have to do this alone.

Turning Loss to Lemonade

Turning thirty is a big deal. It’s one of the milestones we celebrate. “The end of a chapter, and the start of a new one,” is what people love to say. It’s Real Adulthood, the period of wedding planning, pumping and dumping, and racing to pick up at daycare. It coincides with how a woman’s biological clock ticks louder as she gets closer to her thirties.

Hostage

i wanted to run away-
trapped by a body
that no longer felt safe.
it was inside of me.
there was no way to escape.

Darkest Hours

A year away in California, a dream unfolding
Training, motivated, hungry for College
In the best shape of my life, smiling and at peace
Life crashes down, sickness strikes at twenty

Shoo Cancer, Don’t Bother Me

Death tally: one mother, one father, one marriage, one brother, another brother—nearly. For 45 years I thought of myself as a survivor, but when you don’t have any visible scars to show for it, nobody really acknowledges your wounds.