TO: ovarian cancer
FROM: me
“Hate” is such a polite word. I detest you. I despise
you. Yet even those verbs are insufficient.
You took Mom. She was easy pickins’. Sixty-eight years old, 125
pounds, a long-time smoker, not exactly a prize fighter. So sinister, creeping
around through fallopian tubes, virtually undetected, multiplying silently until you outnumbered healthy cells, leaving organs shell-shocked.
Then you took Bricie. She fought you though. For five
grueling years she railed against you. But in the end, you wore her out, you
took her down. You robbed two incredible kids of a loving mom--at 5 and 9 years old! A good man of his devoted
partner, wife.
And then you went after my friend Cindy. Bad choice. You shouldn’t have
messed with Cindy. You didn’t know that she has friends far and wide who have
her back, ready to support her IF she faltered. And you didn’t count on her
friend Jana, whose profession was to eradicate you and your filthy gang from
the women you target. You didn’t plan on Jana [aka "the body guard"] accompanying her to every single appointment
just to ensure that your bags were packed and that you had checked out
permanently, a one-way ticket.
You didn’t count on Cindy’s tenacity and grit. Well, she
won!
She kicked
your sneaky little ass.
So slink off. And leave me and my friends alone! F o r e v e r!
Most sincerely,
Me
