When I was diagnosed with you, Cancer, the news came via a phone call. “It is breast cancer. It’s triple negative. You’re going to be ok.” I cried pretty hard in the car for about five minutes and then I went numb. I was feeling TOO many emotions. I was terrified, angry, worried. I felt so stupid for letting this, you, happen to me. The girl with the BRCA gene who put off going to her screenings because of divorce and her new job and the drive is two hours and a whole host of other inconvenient excuses now has breast cancer. The Lifetime movie basically writes itself.
I found you myself. I can’t remember the day. I do remember getting out of the bathtub, grabbing my lotion, grazing over my right breast, and immediately saying out loud “what the fuck?” I should have called my doctor then. But I was afraid so I decided to keep an eye on you for two weeks. I had just had my annual exam with my ob-gyn and he didn’t mention anything so I wasn’t TOO worried. And you know what happened in that two weeks? You, the little fucker, went away. I went to see my PCP when my two week waiting period was over. She couldn’t feel anything either. So I convinced myself that you were a cyst. You would come and go like an unwelcome guest. You would get bigger and smaller. Sometimes you hurt me. These are all large, flashing, loud warning signs. But I was afraid and it was almost Thanksgiving and I had just fallen in love with the most remarkable man and I just could not deal with this black rain cloud ruining my life.
Then it was the end of December and my insurance from my ex-husband was about to end so I decided to see my PCP again. And this time, you were there. She suggested a biopsy. That’s when I knew I’d let you stay too long. I called my high risk doctors at OSU. I’m not a fan of this particular doctor. She’s harsh and straight to the point and not very warm. I need someone to hold my hand in a medical setting. She immediately felt you, lingering there, and said “why did you wait so long??” It seemed that the two of you were on a team and your main mission was to make me feel like a complete and utter idiot.
Why did I wait so long? Because I was scared. I know what you can do, Cancer. I’ve seen you invade bodies of the people I love. You’re quiet and sneaky. You don’t fight fair and that’s cowardly. You take things. You’ve taken my energy, my good cells, my hair.
But that’s all you’re taking from me. Because Cancer, I know what I can do. I can be put through the ringer. I can fight and still laugh. I can cry and feel ok. Because I am strong. I can be pumped full of poison and knocked out for hours. That poison and I? We’re best friends. She’s not trying to kill me. She’s trying to kill YOU. And together, that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Every last little cell of you is going to die. All that’ll be left will be the perfect cells that are me.
So that’s my letter to you, Cancer. You’re a jerk and a coward and you chose the wrong girl to pick on.
xoxo,
Emma
Warming Up 