An open letter to Cancer

Subject: An open letter to Cancer
From: Me
Date: 20 Jul 2017

Dear Cancer,

I guess "dear" really isn't even appropriate considering all of the damage you cause people. I've heard about you my whole life, but never really gave you a second thought, until that cold day in December. When you came into my life, you chose to attach yourself to one of the most important people in my life.

Around Christmas 2016, we found out my grandma had bladder cancer. I'll never forget all the anger and confusion you made me feel in the moment when the doctor said your name. I'll never forget how scared my grandmas eyes looked and how that made me scared, too.

In the weeks following, we set a plan. A plan to take you out of our life, send you back to the dark hole you so rightfully belong in. When my grandma started her treatment, the number one rule I had for myself was to never let her see me cry. I never wanted her to carry the weight I felt from you, Cancer. You gave her enough to carry, she didn't need to carry mine as well.

The chemo was horrible. Watching this beautiful woman who showed nothing but strength and compassion my whole life hooked up to an IV constantly, made my heart break more and more every time. I hated it, I wanted nothing more than for you just to go away all by yourself and leave my family alone.

Through the whole experience, I never lost hope. I knew my grandma had endured much greater in her years of life. Cancer was no match for the woman who in my eyes was a superhero.

As the weeks went on and the treatments continued, my grandma never gave up. Even with all of the sickness she felt after treatment, she kept going and we were right there cheering her on. Everything that was set off track by you was finally starting to feel like it might be all going back into place.

Once the treatment scedule was completed, I knew the next call I would get would be that you were gone. That the normal chaos of my life that had been before you would resume. Then I got that phone call. The phone call that was supposed to go so much differently.

I'll never forget the moment when I heard my second least favorite word, hospice.
All of the panic and anger I felt when I heard of you came rushing back and in that moment, my heart stopped. I rushed to my grandma, waiting for her to tell me that I was just "being dramatic again and everything was in fact normal again", but she couldn't.

On May 5th, 2017, my grandmas battle with you finally ended. Even though her story didn't end where it was supposed to, she still won. She still beat you, she's still that superhero I always knew her as, except this time she doesn't have a cape; my grandma has wings.

I hate you cancer. With every ounce of my body, I hate you. You steal things from people that they're not ready to give up. You sink yourself into some of the most beautiful souls and try to destroy them. You try to take away every moment of happiness of the lives that you touch. You leave people broken, with nothing to help them pick up the pieces.

I can't wait for someone to wipe you off the face of the planet, completely.

Worst wishes to you,
-The Granddaughter of a Fighter