Dear Cancer –

Since I learned three months ago that you had invaded my life, my body, I have mourned, cried, fought anger, been physically tortured, lost my dignity, confidence, questioned my faith..in G-d, humanity, and medicine.  I have felt weak and vulnerable.  You made me feel like a coward and a failure.  Because of you I now cry, and often sob, when I look in the mirror.  And it isn’t just me you so relentlessly punish.  I watch my loved ones suffer in a different but profound ways.  You rudely and insensitively invaded silently and with deadly potency without the slightest warning or mere indication.

But you are the real coward, I did nothing to invite or encourage your presence.  I did not welcome you to our lives.  I was neither negligent nor complicit, I did not do anything wrong.  In fact, I diligently lived a life to avoid attracting you and I checked for your presence to the maximum medicine (and insurance) permits.

There are so many things I fear, but I will not be afraid to be honest, to cry, and to mourn the losses I have endured in 12 short weeks.  But make no mistake evil Cancer, that I cry doesn’t mean you have the upper hand, it doesn’t mean that I am depressed, or am wavering in my positive attitude.  You underestimated me, my spirit and soul are strong even if my cellular makeup has gone temporarily haywire and my emotions fragile.

I have been told I will emerge stronger with a deeper appreciation of my blessings.  Hogwash!  For longer than my memory permits (which you should know dates back to being 2 or 3), I have held the deepest respect and gratitude for what I have.  Every one of my beautiful, hard fought for blessings, I am acutely aware that every minute is a gift.  It is you that should spend some time learning this lesson as you haphazardly and recklessly try to destroy.  I live my life pursuing personal and professional greatness, what have you accomplished?  Terror, fear, destruction?  You should feel shame, not me.

To those who prefer my more witty chipper posts, I’m sorry.  Today is not that day.  Today is a chemo day.  Today we should be celebrating my daddy’s birthday, not remembering that you, evil Cancer, took him from us.  Today I should be at the first day of school with my sons feeling the ordinary angst of a new academic year, not sitting in this awful room surrounded by sadness and hurting that it was not me to kiss my sons and sent them off to new adventures toward growing up.   I have the benefit of one cycle at my back, but I now also shoulder the burden of what the coming days will bring.  I sit now with cycle two underway.  Do you know what that means Cancer, I soon will have two at my back.  Like a wind pushing me forward past your putrid stench.  I hope you know Cancer, I will stop at nothing, NOTHING, to overcome your evil empire.

At the end of our war, I will be the heroine.  I will move forward and will regain my spunk, style, and confidence.  Maybe even my beauty.  I will embrace the next (G-d willing) six decades and devote my time to protecting and loving my family and lessening the pain you inflict on others.  I do believe that there will come a time where you are permanently defeated, prevented from ruining the very thing that means the most in our society – healthy and happy families.  And I, F**ing Cancer, will be there that day, standing on the mountain peak, full of life, to celebrate your demise.  I will do so with the millions of angels you took without right, sitting on my shoulder, knowing their battles and experience have made my future possible.  And I will do so with the millions of families who may be spared your atrocities in my mind.  I will be there and I will win.

Much love,
jodi alison