tiltingheads

Cancer and other stuff

Dear cancer

Dear cancer,

This is the letter I never wanted to write, or at least thought I wouldn’t have to for ages yet but events of the last few days have left me no choice.

See, up to now, you and I have been rubbing along fairly nicely right? I’ve made some concessions to you, you’ve largely stayed quietly in the corner not making too much of a nuisance of yourself. And we were OK, in fact I would have stayed like that for a long time given the chance. But sneaking up on me like that and clocking me with a jab to the kidneys, well it wasn’t very nice.

I’ve been wondering whether it’s even worth going ahead with any more treatment as you know, and for a day or two I really came close to chucking the towel in. Almost three years you and I have been doing this absurd little dance and yes, there is a big part of me that thinks “screw this, I can’t be bothered”. I’m SO tired, in every possible way but you don’t care do you? You couldn’t wait till I’d at least been on holiday.

I used to feel sorry for you – the poor little wonky gene that just got lost somewhere along the way. I would have helped you get better and back to normal if you’d let me. But you see, this week you overstepped the mark. You made my boyfriend cry. My beautiful, wonderful boy wonder. You frightened him and made him really sad and that is completely unacceptable to me. I’m cross, in fact I am actually bubbling over with rage. It didn’t have to come to this, it really didn’t, but by not playing ball you leave me no choice other than to raise myself from my knees up to full height and unleash this hate right in your face. You won’t win this game, not now you’ve upset the person I care most in the world about. This week you’ve shown me you are serious and if I sat back and did nothing I’d be dead within the year. I get it, you’ve made your point. So bring it on. No more messing around.

You forget I have Alison on my team. The coach who will decide how best we play this. And she’s clever. I also have Team Cancer, whose numbers are growing steadily every day. So SCREW YOU CANCER. Every time you think you’ve won, every time I will come back stronger. I’m sending in the big guns now, and as soon as is possible. You have no idea the carnage that is going to cause you. If I lose my hair, it’s ok I’ll get new hair. No eyebrows? I’ll tattoo them on. Ha! I prefer looking like a freak for the rest of my life than ever give you the satisfaction of rolling over and being defeated. I’ll still go to work, still have a social life, still volunteer with the charity and play a useful, active role in everything I do. Even when I’m tired, even when I think I can’t carry on, I will.

So cancer, I’ll just be lying low for the next week or so getting ready for our next meeting. You had me right on the ropes and I’m still very, very sore. But I’ll be ready for you again soon.

Love from Me. X

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