A letter to my cancer


Dear Cancer,I go between being really angry at you and being grateful. Angry? You are wondering why I am so angry at you? You stole almost two years from me! I had surgeries, chemo, radiation, nausea, constipation, insomnia, anger and depression; not to mention having my pee turn red, having mouth sores and being bald.I should have been playing hockey, being with friends and family, riding my bike, not being so tired I wanted to sleep, then not being able to sleep because of insomnia, making dinner then not being able to eat because I felt completely awful.You make it hard for me to think because of chemobrain. I used to know the answers to things, but some days I just struggle to put sentences together. I have been done with treatment for more than a year, but you make it so your side effects come and go on a whim. I got excited when my neuropathy went away, but frustrated when it comes back from time to time, making my foot go numb.You make it so I have to have a "schedule." I am a free spirit. I don't like to be tied down by schedules, but I have to make sure I take certain pills at certain times, some I'm suppose to take with food, and others, I'm not. Sometimes I forget--that is the chemobrain again.I have scars, both emotional and physical because of you. You made it hard for me to look at myself for the longest time, making me feel like I was not a whole person. That has passed, but I am still angry about it.I have spent hours and hours following other people's cancer battles over the Internet via blogs, Facebook and Twitter because of you. People I have never met, and never will meet, from places all across the world I will probably never visit. They do not know me or that I have spent countless sleepless nights lying awake, praying for them, wondering what I can do for them. In the end, I can offer them nothing but comfort from a stranger. To me they feel like they are a part of my family. I rejoice when they have something to celebrate, and I cry when they fly away on angels wings.You are the reason my friend Nick Corea is no longer here. You took him from us too soon. I still remember that day when I found out he was gone. You robbed the world of a great man, and for that you will never be forgiven.You wonder why I am grateful? I am not grateful for you, let's make that clear. I am grateful that I found you early, early enough to get treatment to stop you. I am grateful that I found strength that I never knew I had. I am grateful that I have an awesome support system of friends, family and co-workers. I am grateful for the medical staff that I had, which was the best anyone could ask for.I am grateful I found a voice not only for myself, but because of you, I can speak for those who can't, who are too afraid, too sick or too weak. I am grateful for the network of people that I have found who hate you as much as I do, who want to eradicate you as much as I do. I am grateful I have found a purpose.You think you did all this for me? I realized strength and determination was in me all along, it just took something as vile as you to bring it to the surface. Now you can leave. You can leave all my friends alone. You can leave people I never met alone. You can go away. Never come back.Sincerely, MelMel Majoros is a breast cancer survivor and host of "The Cancer Warrior" podcast on Empower Radio. You can read her blog "The Cancer Warrior" at www.thecancerwarrior.blogspot.com.

Related Videos
Image of a woman with brown bobbed hair with glasses.
Yuliya P.L Linhares, MD, and Josie Montegaard, MSN, AGPCNP-BC, experts on CLL
Yuliya P.L Linhares, MD, and Josie Montegaard, MSN, AGPCNP-BC, experts on CLL
Image of Dr. Minesh Mehta at ASCO 2024.
Image of a woman with blond hai
Image of a man with rectangular glasses and short dark hair.
Yuliya P.L Linhares, MD, and Josie Montegaard, MSN, AGPCNP-BC, experts on CLL
Josie Montegaard, MSN, AGPCNP-BC, an expert on CLL
Image of Dana Frost.
Image of a man with dark hair wearing a suit with a light blue tie.
Related Content