By Lorry Myers
I need to make an apology; I don’t know all your names, but you know who you are. I have been one of the lucky ones. I’ve had limited tragedy and only a few measurable losses in my life so I consider myself fortunate. I still have my husband and my children, all my brothers and sisters and my mother. Three years ago, my father died from the same thing that took his brother and sister.
Cancer, that relentless beast that sneaks in and settles down while you are busy living your life. Cancer doesn’t care how old you are, or who you are or whether you have health insurance. Everyone knows someone who has survived cancer or loved someone that cancer took away but as long as it’s not you, you can’t do much about it.
I hate cancer.
My new son-in-law was recently diagnosed with cancer and we are quickly adjusting to the change in plans. Cancer didn’t care that Tanner and Mariah have only been married a few months, cancer didn’t care that Tanner is only thirty-five. Cancer ignored the probabilities and the possibilities and against all odds found a silent place to grow and spread. Cancer doesn’t care how rare it is, or how unprepared you are or how deeply you are loved.
Cancer doesn’t care.
I watched the way cancer weakens a person’s hope and clouds their future and fills the days with appointments, prescriptions and notebooks full of notes. Cancer takes over your dreams turning them into sleepless nights, it steals your rhythm and your rhyme and changes the way you view the world.
Cancer changes everything.
For the complete article, please see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.