By Celene Davis
(Note: there is strong language in this article, but it is important to me, Erin, to maintain the voice in this important piece about surviving cancer. Suppressed anger and emotion has been linked to worse cancer outcomes, and this piece affirms that reality and provides healing advice.)
When the doctors say you have cancer time stops.
It slows down and you sit with it and everything it means. You sit with every single f***ing choice the world will now say: yep that’s how he got cancer.
Cancer is never your fault. It’s not your fault if you were a smoker.
I wasn’t.
And it’s not your fault if you weren’t eating well.
I was.
It’s not your fault if you make bad choices.
I was exposed to pesticides without a mask in low-income housing.
You end up with this mountainous grief of everything you wished you could have done before and now can’t.
I can’t swim with a stoma. I can’t safely be in crowds like I used to.
You need to take the f**king help sometimes
It’s really hard to say yes to help if you’re Asian. Culturally we have to say no at least twice.
But like your body is putting calories into fighting itself.
I have swallow issues from scar tissue where I choke and suffocate with almost every meal.
When my friends give me money I want to say no.
I need to say yes.
When the cancer institute wants me on the gift tree, I need to say yes.
So I’m giving you, permission to say yes.
Let them drive you, feed you and love you. Accepting love is difficult when we expect only to give it and when we feel like if we say yes, we’re weak.
Your Why Can be Full of Spite and that’s still good
The reason you’re fighting can be as simple as to outlive people you f***ing hate. It can be to prove sh*tty doctors wrong. Or to find justice. It can be spiteful.
We are allowed to be spiteful.
We don’t have to be bald-headed angelic cancer patients.
We can fight our fights just because we want to spit on a evil politician’s grave.
I’ll spit with you. 1800 f**k them.
