Fuck you, cancer.
You hear that? I’m calling you out. By name.
Fuck you, cancer. I hate you.
I hate you for taking over my daughter’s body, for making yourself a part of our lives. I hate you for introducing us to the world of hospital stays and cytotoxic chemicals and a tube in my daughter’s nose and down her throat so she can eat. I hate you for preying on the most vulnerable, on those who can’t defend themselves. I hate you for trying to destroy us.
But you won’t.
I hate you, cancer, but I do not fear you. I will not let you own us. I will not let you destroy us. And neither will Sarah. Because you can damage her body, but you will never damage her spirit. She might be less than a year old, she might weigh less than 20 pounds, she may be small and delicate-looking, but brave things come in small packages, and there’s only one thing in this world that I’m sure of: she’s going to kick your ass.
So fuck you.