Survivorship

Dear Cancer, I Learned to Live Again

Dear Cancer,

When I found out you were in my body I was scared, mad, and I lost all hope. I hated you for so long for taking my hair, my health, and my hope. I hated you for giving me anxiety, PTSD, and for trying to kill me.

Dear Cancer, We Have Been on an Adventure

Dear Second Half,

We have been on an adventure for 13 years this April, ironically both of us are celebrating our “birth” on my birthday. I hate you, and at times I am grateful.

You have stolen moments from me that I will never get back. You have limited me in so many ways by constantly throwing a wrench into my plans. After 13 years, you have broken down my body; years of treatment, procedures, tests, hospitalizations, and because you are rare, often a lot of guesswork.

Dear Cancer, You Need to Behave

Cancer,

Let’s sit down and have a talk.

I am just going to come out and say it: you need to behave. I know you and I are going to be stuck with each other for the rest of my life, but can you at least make things a bit easier?

Dear Cancer, You are the Great Paradox

Dear Cancer,

You have changed me in more ways than I can count.

First, there was the big change, the news of your existence falling from the sky, scorching the earth of my body, and breaking apart my safe little world. When you arrived, you changed so much.

Dear Cancer, I am Still the Author of my Own Story

I am learning that while I may not be in control, I am still the author of my own story

You, cancer, are lurking in the shadows,
Waiting for a moment to appear again
in the tender skin on my clavicle.

Dear Cancer, I Would Not Wish You on Anyone

Dear Bladder Cancer,

I have so many mixed feelings about you. I didn’t even know bladder cancer was a thing until the moment I was diagnosed with it. I am angry that you are so common, but no one is talking about you.

Dear Cancer, You Were Never Fully in Charge

Dear Cancer,

You are already a power hog, a bully, so I try to ignore you believing that negative behavior is just desperate for attention. Perhaps if I don’t give it to you, you will go away.

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.