You took my mother-in-law when I was in my twenties. Then you took my grandfather less than a year later. Then, as a doctor, I watched you take countless children, teenagers, young people, and old people. Iíve witnessed firsthand how ruthless you can be, how you love to prey upon the people who are most gentle and kind, the ones who arenít fighters, the ones who resign to you and let you sweep them away like a rogue wave on a surferís beach. But you donít stop there. No. You go after the fighters too, only you make them suffer more. You take them too — only you take them kicking and screaming.
Either way, you’re vicious.
You donít look back. Your only goal is to win. And way too often, you do.
You took my father when he was barely 60. You swept through him from diagnosis to death in three short months. And you never apologized for taking him from me only two weeks after my daughter was born, when my dog had just died and my brother was in the ICU in liver failure.
You took Dadís best friend when she was way too young. You took Momís best friend when she was even younger. Because of you, I had a year I called my ďFour Funerals and a WeddingĒ year.
My friend†Kris Carr is fighting against you (and winning! Cancer, you sly beast- you’ll never get her.† Keep your filthy hands off my friend.) But now youíre back at it, you evil troll. Last month, you struck my friend, a man my age with young children and a wife whoís not ready to lose him. Then on Motherís Day, you lashed out at another friend, who has four young children. And today, I just found out youíre attacking another dear friend. Three strikes against friends in their forties in one month is pushing it, cancer. Iíve had it. Iím about to blow.
I melted down today, cancer.
Three times, including right before I was supposed to go on stage to give a talk. The echo of your voice whispered in my ear and said, ďIím gonna take her and thereís nothing you can do about itĒ — and I want to scream. I want to grab you by the neck and thrash you around until youíre as lifeless as the victims you attack. I want to silence you. I want you to suffer the way you make them suffer. I want you to plead for mercy.
I donít get angry very often, cancer. In fact, I should probably get angry more often. But this time, youíve crossed the line, so Iím warning you.
Iím giving you two choices. Iíll ask you kindly to leave my people alone. Just turn around now and walk the other way, and no one else will get hurt.
But if you insist upon sticking around and blowing off bombs, youíve been forewarned. Iím declaring war on you. And this time, Iím taking you down.
You’ve been warned, cancer.
I suggest you go crawl into your little cave and leave the people I love alone. Cause Iíve had it with you. And your days are numbered.
Unless you get to me first. But Iím here to tell you that Iím a tough cookie, and Iíve got a tribe that will help me fight you like an army, so youíd best be going now, cancer. Take your filthy self away and leave my friends and family alone. Youíve done enough damage already. Tuck your tail between your legs and get the hell outta dodge before I really get pissed.
And here — Iím throwing my tears like bullets at you, cancer.
Damn you. Go to hell.
And please, if thereís any mercy in you at all, let my friends live. Youíve gotten in deep with all three of them. Youíve slipped into their blood streams and lymph systems. Youíre taking over. But I beg you — spare them. These are precious, special people. I love them. I canít lose them now. Please. Please. Please go.
Praying you will leave and never come back,
Lissa Rankin, MD: Founder of†OwningPink.com,†Pink Medicine Woman coach, motivational speaker, and author of†Whatís Up Down There? Questions Youíd Only Ask Your Gynecologist If She Was Your Best Friend and Encaustic Art: The Complete Guide To Creating Fine Art With Wax.
Learn more about†Lissa Rankin here.