Dear Cancer,

I think it’s time we had a heart to heart.

You caught me by surprise when you showed up.  Of all the things that were going on with my health, I never thought it would be you.

I want you to know that I’m not mad at you.  I’ve come to understand that you don’t do what you do out of spite.  You don’t think, you just do.  It was my own cells that got messed up and turned into you.  Then you just did the only thing you know how to do.  Divide, repeat, divide, repeat and so on.  I don’t take your presence personally – nothing good would come of that.  You’re here whether I like it or not.  I have to deal with it and adapt.  And that’s okay.  Adapting is something I’ve always been good at.  You are the test that requires me to call back on many different life lessons.  The number of experiences that have prepared me for you might seem ironic.  But they’re not. 

I’ve come to realize that you were always coming.  I can see that now.  Because a lot of things that didn’t make sense now do. 

It started with a sport that I never knew I wanted to participate in.  I have vague images of how it began.  I don’t even remember how I ended up at a wrestling captain’s practice as a freshman in high school.  I had never participated in the sport; it was never covered in middle school gym classes.  It literally had to be divine intervention to get me there.  And it was a rough start.  I wasn’t any good at first.  But somehow, some way, I stuck with it and got good.  It taught me mental toughness and how far I could push my body physically.  It increased my confidence and showed me what I could do if I put my mind to it.  There is no way I would stand a chance against you if it weren’t for those experiences.

Then there was the move.  At 19 years old, coming out of my freshman year of school at Boston College, I didn’t want to move from Massachusetts to Texas with my parents.  I wanted to stay behind.  I was an adult.  I’d figure it out.  I had made great friends at BC and I did not want to give that up.  But that wasn’t meant to be.  I needed to be in Texas.  I needed the experience of a life-changing event.  I needed to cope with having to adjust my goals and my attitude in a new environment.  I needed the time at the University of Houston and all the jobs I’ve had since to build me.  Most of all, I needed to meet my wife on January 10, 2002 in Houston.  Without her and all those experiences, I would not be in the position I am. A position to beat you.

There are many more things.  Books I’ve picked up at the exact times I needed them.  People I’ve met along the way that would play very important roles whether they knew it or not.  People from my past re-entering my life at the most opportune times.  I continue to be given tools and gifts to beat you.  And I’m sorry, but I don’t take them for granted and will use every single one of them to defend myself against you.

There is something I need to thank you for though.  You woke me up.  I have always been a patient person.  Perhaps too patient.  And that has been one of my drawbacks.  Being too patient means that I’ve always felt like my dreams could wait.  There would always be time later.  You’ve reminded me that later is not guaranteed.  That I must dig in and fight for what I want.  Now.  No more waiting.  So, thank you.  I choose to see this aspect of our relationship as a gift.  That may seem funny to you, as I doubt you get much gratitude thrown your way.

For the past five months or so, you’ve messed with whatever semblance of a routine that I’ve had.  You make it very difficult for me to make new commitments to people since I can’t predict how I’m going to feel after they administer the drugs to eradicate you every other week.  I don’t know when or how the doctors are going to want to surgically cut you out of me (probably soon, so you should consider packing).  And I don’t know what that recovery looks like.  While I don’t allow you to dictate what I can and can’t do, it’s not fair for me to make obligations to people when there is the slightest bit of uncertainty.

So here’s the thing.  You’re not welcome here.  Even though you don’t realize what you are doing, I have to get rid of you.  I don’t expect you to understand.  But the thing is, if you stick around, eventually you kill us both.  And I’m not okay with that.  In almost every scenario, you don’t survive.  If I win, you lose.  If you win, we both lose.  So, what’s the point of taking me with you? 

This is where I give you your notice.  Your time with me is running out.  I have a lot to do that you don’t get to be an active part in.  And if you decide to stick around, understand that this will be the hardest fight you’ve ever fought.  Because I don’t go down easily.  Not when there is this much at stake.  You have to understand that I don’t just want to live for myself.  There are many, many people that I’m doing this for.  And that’s a power you don’t stand a chance against. 

Yours Truly,

Chris