Survivorship

Dear Cancer, Isn’t It Ironic?

Dear Cancer,

Read those two words again, isn’t it ironic? “Dear cancer.” Two words that should never be side by side, but here they are placed together so carelessly and yet also intentionally.

Dear Cancer, You Came Into My Life…

You came into my life as a nagging change—a slight pull to the left and a dimple on my breast. “It’s nothing. I am too young for it to be something.” I took you with me to visit my doctor.

I Walked A Thousand Miles

I walked a thousand miles away from home—
IV stands and frozen steps
Dicarbozene and overcast skies
With you, the uninvited.

Dear Cancer: You Lost

Dear Cancer,

Hi, it’s me again. We haven’t talked in a while, but honestly, I didn’t know what to say to you. You failed to drag me down and I rang that wonderful bronze bell in spite of you. There was a celebration when you finally moved out. Of course, you took a bit of my femur with you, but I don’t mind. I got a really cool scar in return.

Uninvited Intruder, Unyielding Survivor

Dear Cancer,

If you had a face, a form, or a name, what would it be? Would it be a grotesque monster lurking in the shadows or a subtle, insidious force weaving its way through the fabric of life?

Dear Cancer, You Became My Silver Lining

Dear Cancer,

May 19, 2015, the day I discovered you were living within me. At just 26 years old, I was gearing up for a rollercoaster ride that, little did I know, I would never get off. I thought there would be an end to you, a day where my life would go back to what it was, and I could act as if you had never happened.

The Impossibilities of Life in the Mind of Someone Healthy

Dear Cancer, 

What do I want to say to you at our ten year anniversary? Like many patients, I still remember when we were introduced in 2014 like I had selective hyperthymesia for that day. At the time I received brain tumor diagnoses of grades I, II, III, and IV, with no member of my medical team able or willing to tell me anything about my prognosis.

Dear Cancer: The Chaotic Voyage

Dear cancer,

You made life messy. I expected it to be clean, linear, and perfect. But it’s none of these. Rarely does life sail along without at least a few waves crashing into my fragile vessel. Why do I expect perfection from a world that’s flawed?

Dear Cancer, I am Sick of You

Dear Cancer,

Here we go again, Cancer. To be honest, I am sick of talking about you. I am exhausted by my unwanted lifetime membership in the “Cancer Club.” Nearly six years into this, it feels like my whole life has been intertwined with your presence.

Dear Cancer, You Will Ruin My Life

Dear Cancer,

You will ruin my life. If I let you. But I choose not to give you that much power. You don’t deserve to take anything else from me. My life got turned upside-down, sideways, and every other direction a year and a half ago because of you. It’s like I’m still spinning out of control sometimes.