Warrior Stuff

Dear cancer, it’s time for you to go.

You’ve been here long enough.  Living inside of my body.  You were never welcome to begin with.  But one day, somehow, you snuck in.  You set up shop where I least expected it.  Who knows how long you were there, growing and getting stronger, until one day you started to cause me pain.  And that’s when we discovered you two years ago.  We tried to kill you with chemo and radiation and we thought you were gone.  You didn’t show up anymore on MRI or CT scans.  The doctor couldn’t see you during scopes or feel you during exams.  My body was healing from treatment and getting energy back.  I had adjusted to my new normal, enjoying this life after cancer.  Our family was making big plans, moving forward with our lives.

Then in December it was time for my one year post-treatment colonoscopy.  They biopsied from the area where you had grown your tumor.  Pathology results say there are some cancer cells.  Remnants of you still live!  I was surprised and crushed because we thought you were gone.  But, cancer, you are so sneaky.  So now I fight you again.  And I’m not asking you to leave, I’m telling you it’s time for you to go.  This time we will use surgery.  It will be painful and there will be a long recovery, but it is our only option for getting rid of you completely.  So surgery will happen soon.

Cancer, you terrible, awful beast, you have hurt our family enough.  You have made me scared, anxious and depressed.  You have given me insecurities I’ve never had before.  You have made my husband and children afraid.  You forced me to do treatments that literally gave me burns and sores, that made me nauseous, exhausted and fatigued.  You made me lose most of my hair, you’ve made my teeth start chipping, you’ve made it so I can no longer feel my toes, you made it so I went into menopause and all that comes with that.  You have left me with scars and the treatments have left me with pain daily.  Now you will leave me with a permanent colostomy, altering my body and my life forever.  You have made me miss out on moments with my family and I will never forgive you for that.

But you have also taught me a lot.  I have learned that I am stronger than I knew, physically and mentally.  I have become brave in the face of fear.  I have had courage like never before while enduring torturous treatments.  I have become a fierce warrior.  I have learned patience.  I have learned humility.  I have learned to accept help.  I have learned that making memories is more important than making money.  I have learned that people are more important than possessions.  I have learned that every day is a gift.  I have learned that making progress is better than aspiring for perfection.  My faith has grown.  I have learned that I am not alone.  I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me and who is with me through my trials.  I have found peace and comfort I never thought possible during times of despair.  I have learned that you don’t always see the struggles people have.  I have learned that a little bit of kindness goes a long way.  I have seen prayers answered.  I have seen miracles happen.  I have learned to accept that life does not always go as we planned it, but I have learned that we can have joy and happiness anyway.  I have learned that there are some really good, amazing people in this world.  I have felt love and kindness surround my family.

Cancer, I hate you with all of my heart.  I hope this surgery gets rid of the rest of you.  I hope you haven’t left any microscopic cells to infest other parts of my body.  There are no tears from me as I write this because, cancer, you have pissed me off something fierce this time!  And I will do anything to get rid of you for good.

Peace out, see ya, bye Felicia,

Julie

P.S.  Don’t come back.

*To read from the beginning of my cancer journey click here.

2 thoughts on “Dear cancer, it’s time for you to go.

  1. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again– you don’t know me but yourstrength, courage, and message inspires this stage IV Colon Cancer fighter. I’ve only begun my journey- diagnosed October 2017– 8 chemos in with a good first scan— but reading your posts shows me what a true cancer warrior looks like. I know you’re apprehensive about this new chapter but know your words and journey have left such an impact. May God put his healing arms around you and bring you peace to you and your family and an end to this ugly cancer. Shari💗💪🙏🙏

    1. Shari, thank you! Thank you for your kind words & thank you for your support. I have no doubt that you are a great warrior yourself. Stay strong & I will be keeping you in my prayers too. Much love ❤️

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