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 |  Daily scribbles on writing and living. How to get rid of cobwebs in my brain. CLOSED. |
** Image ID #2099018 Unavailable ** Hello, Cancer aka Death, I am writing this to you, Cancer, in the stage where there is no cancer (yet). You only scared me last year because there were some irregularities in my right breast. After careful extra X-rays and a biopsy, they found nothing was wrong. So I got away with it. Pff. I dodged the bullet. I was so relieved because the mere thought of having breast cancer scared the living daylights out of me for a whole month. This year there was again an invitation letter for a bi-annual checkup. I thought I was brave enough to go, but I wasn’t and have postponed the appointment three times. I just canceled my next appointment today but have one now for next week. So what is the gain so far? I have to go in the end, haven’t I? The reason I am scared shitless is that I made up my mind as to what to do in case I have cancer. I am NOT going to have chemo, that’s for sure, and I am not sure at all about the surgery either. I am living alone with no social network to rely on for my daily needs. I just don’t feel right about having chemo since my late mother had it for her (lung) cancer and a friend of mine had it for her (cervix) cancer. They both were very sick because of chemo and died anyway although they might have gained two years at the most. I am just not up to the sickness and devastation chemo can cause, I am that of a chicken. That means, Cancer, if I have you it will be my death sentence since chemo is out of the question. Leaving surgery as the next best thing, but I didn’t allow myself to think about that option yet. Maybe there is no need to, but I am writing this letter anyway since it is a good thing to be aware of my options, so I come more or less prepared. Can you ever prepare yourself for this? I am not sure you can! I now know why I postponed that last appointment. I was busy honoring Oldwarrior  yesterday who died of cancer last September. I was a little depressed by that and was scared to go tomorrow. So I declined yet again. This is coming too close. Anyway, I have a whole weekend to think about you messing up my life without even knowing if there is something wrong with me. In a way, you already dictate my life, which is not good at all. So I write this letter, venting, and allowing myself to really think things over since I am usually a chicken and an ostrich who sticks her head into the sand. I just wished I could wish this away, but I can’t. I have to woman up and face the truth next Tuesday. I hope I’ll be ready by then! I’ll keep my fingers crossed! Word count: 497 Won 3rd place
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