Dear Cancer, You Were A Dictator
Dear Cancer,
It feels as if you have been with me longer than six months, and that is quite literally because you have. You snuck in and allowed my body to become your ally, to get what you needed to survive. You told my physical being that it would be okay and you wouldn’t cause any problems.
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For 34 years, I’ve choked down close to 50 pills a day, as part of a daily regimen to manage cystic fibrosis. But one bitter pill I wasn’t prepared to swallow was hearing the words, “You have Stage IV colon cancer.”
I think about the doctor’s words now as I grieve the life I almost got to have, one that seems like a distant dream. The nightmare call came less than two years after I started TriKafta, a life-changing drug that turned a death sentence into a chronic illness, managed with medications and treatments.
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