Dear Cancer

Dear Cancer,

I am happy to announce to you that our time together is coming to an end. I took my last chemo treatment yesterday and by tomorrow around noon, the pump will come off for the last time. That will mark the end of our nearly year-long relationship and with all due respect, good riddance.

I still remember the day that I found out for sure that you had taken up residence with me. I wasn't overly surprised when I found out, as I had noticed some clues that I might have a house guest. I never doubted that your stay would be relatively short though, and we took quick action to begin the eviction process.

You were not a very accommodating guest. You cost me more than you can ever repay. Nearly a year of my life has been spent with you in the forefront of every decision made in this household. Trips have been canceled or put on hold, a new vehicle is currently on hold due to the uncertainty of my upcoming surgery and financial uncertainty because of that. Even more unforgivable, you have made my wife take on the role of caregiver. She had given up a year of her life to take care of me. She has never complained about it, but she has not made a choice for herself for a long time and I look forward to the upcoming day that she can make a decision based on something that she wants and not something that I need. I have never wanted to get out and mow the grass so bad in my life and part of it is because it kills me to be sitting here on the couch watching her work her ass off pushing the mower around the yard. The most I've been able to manage is to go out and water the flowers as far as yard work goes. I tried to push the mower once while she was gone and it felt like I was pushing a front end loader around. The mowing attempt was short-lived.

You have also taken away from my kids. I love coaching my daughter Callie and that was taken away from me this year. When this first started, I had a pipe dream that I might still be able to coach. I was quickly disabused of this notion when the chemo started and my body started to suffer a little bit. My legs began to get weak and everything else had to get pushed aside to make sure that I still had the energy to keep working. This also affected my ability to do things with my youngest daughter Abbie. She loves to play catch and have me pitch to her and to play basketball with me. I have been able to play catch a couple times with her, but the physical toll it takes is incredible to me. I have played catch with her just twice since this started and both times, it took me more than a day to completely shake off the effects of chasing down a bad throw or bend down to get the ball. She threw one to me that was wide right and when I lunged for it, my legs told me that I was going to fall. The strength simply wasn't there to regain my balance and stop myself. I managed to throw a hand down to keep myself from completely going down, but it was not a good feeling. We haven't played catch since then. She felt bad about it, and I was surprised and embarrassed at my lack of strength. I knew the legs were weak, but it hit me then just how weak I was. Cancer, this is simply unforgivable.

My son Andrew has some exciting stuff going on right now as well. He is doing a great job battling his anxiety regarding driver's training, and he has started his first real job and is thriving. He is learning to expand his horizons and is finding it easier to interact with people. I have been forced to watch this from the sidelines as well. I have taken picked him up from work a few times and we have even gone driving a couple times so that he could practice. As fun as this has been, I still feel like I'm not as available to him as I would be had you not shown up. So there's one more reason that you must go.

Lastly, my brother Graham and my buddy Erick came up and sat with Kelly and I during my last treatment yesterday and I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to them for taking time out of their lives to come and celebrate with us. We went to lunch after at the Keyhole in Mackinaw City, which is one of my favorite places. Graham asked about possibly canoeing on Sunday and while I was initially excited about it, I have to call him today and see if there's something else we can do because quite honestly, I'm afraid of the chance that the canoe might capsize and with my legs being what they are at the moment, the thought of being in moving water is not very appealing to me. Yet another decision made by my unwelcome guest.

Once you are gone, I will begin to rehab my legs. It will take time because the chemo will still be in my body for up to a month after Thursday. I will then be looking at surgery to reverse the osteomy and that will take a toll as well. But make no mistake about it, I will return to what I was and then I will be better than I was.

I can't say that this war is completely over, for to do so would go against everything I believe regarding tempting fate, karma and whatever other forces moniter declarations like that. I know that there is a chance that you could come back and we'd have to play this little game all over again. But should you make this choice Cancer, know you this. The result will be the same. You will be discovered, beaten, and evicted again.

But as of today, right now, this battle is over.

Suck it Cancer.

I Win