Fuck You Cancer

Dear Cancer,

I'd like to start off by saying fuck you.  This isn't an episode of Glee, so yeah, call me Cee Lo and FUCK YOU.  Thanks for ruining my Christmas and actually my whole year now that I think of it.  You've wrecked a lot of peoples lives, many of our friends and family have been affected by you, and now you're picking on my dad.

Dude, my dad is 77 years old.  And in a few weeks, right after his 78th birthday, he has to have his bladder removed because of you.  He never smoked, drank or did anything but work, fish and hike on the weekends.  I'm not saying anyone deserves to have you in their lives, but really?  My dad?  All he ever wanted was to live out his last days, growing vegetables in his backyard, reading the paper and watching those Korean soap opera dramas all day long in the winter.

Now all he does is worry about the surgery and worry about how he will be a burden to my mom and his family during his recovery.  And life after the surgery with the bag.  My mother and I can't sleep at night worrying about the pain following the surgery and the weeks and weeks after.  And I can't help thinking at his age the surgery will be too much.

I see a smoker on the street and I want to punch him in the face.  You know that smoking causes cancer, don't you?  Why should my dad have cancer and not you?  Go enjoy your god damn health! is what I want to scream in his face.  I'm not saying it's logical or its the random smoker's fault, or that I think smokers should get cancer.  I don't think any of those things.  I'm just saying I want to punch him in the face.  Really hard.  Like maybe more than once.

I see people racing around buying all sorts of stupid gifts, and I want to yell, who cares?  No one wants that stupid scarf or that stupid basket full of smelly crap, or anything else that you're buying.  Well, except for maybe the people shopping in LuluLemon or the Apple store.  Everyone wants that stuff.  My point is, Christmas is pissing me right off this year with its stupid songs and people eating too much junk and buying too much junk, and being all festive when my dad is sick.

Cancer, you have turned me in to a stark raving crazy bitter bitch.

But guess what.

I'm not going to be crazy forever.  It's going to suck  but my dad is going to have this surgery and we're going to get through the recovery.  My mom used to be a nurse, did you know that Cancer?  She's going help fix up my dad after the surgery--she is like post surgery Cancer Kryptonite.  And my dad's going to get used to the bag and he's going to do all the things he loves doing once he's all healed up.  And I'm going to see my parents happy and free of YOU and I'm not going to be bitter any more.  And I'm going to sleep through the night again one of these days.   And I'm not going to have the urge to punch random people on the street.  And next Christmas, maybe I'll feel like singing a few carols and eating a mountain of cookies and chocolates.  I'll be the best bitch in town.

SO FUCK YOU CANCER.

IT'S ON.

Regards,
Sue Jean