Hodgkin’s lymphoma

Unstable Ground and Holding Hope Gently

Two days before my final treatment, I write myself a letter in my journal. Everything does not happen for a reason, but I can’t deny that I’ve found one anyway.

Dear Cancer, Remember Me?

Dear Cancer,

Wow, I can’t believe it has been 28 years since I met you. You stopped my life in my teenage tracks and at the same time gave me a perception of gratitude and life I never knew was possible. One day I was playing varsity field hockey and the next I was holed up on the Upper West Side getting chemo.

Dear Cancer

Dear Cancer,

you probably don’t remember me.
you’ve probably seen a million kids since you met me.
there are thousands of kids that they couldn’t save,

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.

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, 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.

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 Matt

Dear Matt,

If you are reading this, it means that I am not going to die anytime soon. Sorry.

Survivorship is Hard

Survivorship is hard. It never goes away. You always live a bit on the edge, wondering what will happen next. Or even if you’re going to make it through the day. I’m by myself. Live by myself, drive by myself, flying solo (to the shock of the friendly Costco lady today). If I didn’t respond to any messages and wasn’t online for 24 hours my coworkers Daniel and Savannah would check in on me. But that’s a long time. 

You’re On Your Own, Kid

Taylor Swift really got it right when she said, “You’re on your own, kid, you always have been.”

Nobody prepares you for what it feels like to be a cancer survivor.