Dear Cancer: I Hate You!

Dear Cancer:

I hate you!  My father did nothing to deserve you. He didn't smoke, didn't drink, has eaten well and has exercised.  My mother had to think long and hard when asked by the doctor the last time he was sick.  He was never sick.  He never took medicine.  He was healthy.  You were like a parasite that looked for the healthiest person you could find and latched on.  You have changed his life. He now takes medicine so he doesn't throw up, and disgusting chlorophyll tablets and every 2 weeks has to have medicine pumped into his body for 2 days.  You made him sick and made him have to take medicine every day now.  You took a man who was full of energy and never napped and made him tired and need to rest.  You took a man who was enjoying his retirement and who finally had reached the time that he had worked and planned for, and erased his calendar of plans of vacations and relaxation and visiting with friends and going out to eat and replaced it with chemo appointments and doctor visits and daily medication schedules.

I want to crawl into his body and pull the cancer out, every last disgusting piece of it.  I want to throw it in a fire and burn it, watching it become ashes, disappearing in a big black cloud of smoke, never to return.  I want to flush every pill down the toilet or smash them with a hammer.  I want to take every piece of literature I have read and every sad email I have gotten with new medical updates and rip them into tiny shreds of paper and light them on fire. 

Why him?  Why can't you go somewhere else?  Not that I wish your awful self on anyone else, but I don't want you anywhere near my Dad.  And why won't you go away?  He is fighting you with everything he's been told to do. And still you don't slow down, you won't leave.  When will you get the point? You are not welcome here!  Leave my Dad alone!