I Hate Cancer

I can’t put it any simpler than that.  Whenever I hear of a friend, loved one, or even a complete stranger battling cancer or having lost their battle it stops me in my tracks.  It shakes me to the core.  I lose focus.  It makes me angry.  It opens old wounds.  It makes me feel bare, vulnerable, and momentarily steals my hope.
 
This week an acquaintance shared that a dear friend of hers was losing her battle against breast cancer.  Her friend had won a couple of rounds but the chemotherapy, the morphine, and the burden was becoming too much and she doesn’t want to fight anymore.
 
Another friend sent word that her father had passed away.  Her father had been diagnosed with bladder cancer earlier this year.  Chemotherapy didn’t work and the side effects were slowly killing him.  He will be laid to rest on Friday.
 
I’ve never met either of them.  But their pain was my pain.  Cancer robs not only its victims, but everyone close to them too.
 
I will not let it rob me of my resolve, but it doesn’t stop the sorrow.
 
For some reason, the first two stanzas of Invictus come to mind.  A passionate and defiant poem, Invictus was written by William Ernest Henley in the late 1800s.  It was written as a demonstration of his resilience following the amputation of his foot due to tubercular infection.
 
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

I will continue to fight cancer in words, deeds, and treasure.

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