I Would Say “Fuck Cancer,” But I Don’t Think It Deserves Something That Enjoyable

Cancer has touched the lives of too many people in my life. You could say it’s the creeper neighbor of the medical world, and it needs to stay the hell away from the people I love.

A week ago, we found out that Austin’s Uncle Ron has a brain tumor. He’d been having headaches since Christmas but more recently started unexpectedly collapsing. His condition has deteriorated quickly, to the point that he just entered hospice.

Ron is 42 years old – exactly ten years older, to the day, than Austin. He’s a quiet man, a musician, a tech guy, and scary smart. He helped foster Austin’s love of gaming and science fiction. He’s got a wicked, dry sense of humor and large green eyes like marble shooters. I’ve only met him a couple of times, but he’s our kind of people.

And he is too young to die.

But then again, so was my Grandma H, who beat breast cancer only to have it go metastatic later on, when she was 62. So was my high school doppleganger, a 31-year-old mother-of-two who finally lost her battle with (shocker) metastatic breast cancer last year. People had a hard time telling us apart when we used to run track. Her daughter goes to the same preschool as mine, and they both have our dark hair.

Grandpa K’s lung cancer came on after years of chain smoking. He’s still as lovingly gruff and curmudgeonly as ever, and I’m not ready to lose him.

I could keep adding names here, of people I know, of friends of friends, but I won’t because you get the point.

Don’t miss a moment of your life. Don’t pass up an opportunity to show people you love them. Don’t let the refuse of this world – the negativity, the anxiety, the maddening frenzy – block out everything that is good, and beautiful, and honorable.

Cancer, however, can go live a long, solitary, unfulfilled existence far, far away from my friends and family, and you and yours.

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4 Responses to I Would Say “Fuck Cancer,” But I Don’t Think It Deserves Something That Enjoyable

  1. That is good advice. I hope Uncle Ron makes a full recovery. My Grandma died aged 62 from cancer too and 5 months ago very unexpectedly so did my Mam aged just 63.

    • Laura says:

      I remember reading about your mom. It’s just so crazy how quick cancer can spread. Ron found out literally last week, and he’s basically unresponsive now. It’s a really aggressive form, and inoperable. Sucks. Big time.

  2. creat1ve11 says:

    I’ve lost loved ones to cancer, and have survived it myself for 18 years. It’s like being struck by lightning or your brakes giving out on a winding road. You never know what the future holds. I agree with you, Laura. Every second counts. Don’t forget to tell the people you love how you feel, as often as you can. Don’t forget to look around every day in amazement at a world full of everything: birds, blueberries, kids flying kites, the smell in the air after it rains… Savor it all. There are no guarantees. Anything can happen at any time. Worrying about the past or future has no utility, and steals us from the present moment. THIS IS IT! It always is…

    • Laura says:

      Congrats on doing so well for eighteen years! The seeming randomness of it all is definitely scary. Something like this does help put things in perspective, though. Jolts you out of your everyday lull.

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