It was Christmastime and I carefully untied the pink ribbon from box and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in pink tissue paper were two tank tops. My friends looked at me and smiled as I lifted the first one out and held it up. It was light pink and on the front were a pair of red boxing gloves and written in black script was the phrase, "Fight like a girl." the other tank was white with a red post it note on the front and the post it note said, "To do - kick cancer's ass.". I looked at my friends and returned their smiles.
"We thought you could wear them to chemo." they had them made especially for me. They are such good friends. I am blessed...well, except for the cancer thing, and the PTSD thing, and the history of child abuse, no parents- but hey - we all have our "issues", don't we! And you cannot go to chemo without the right t-shirt!
I can fight. I have had to fight my entire life. When you're born into a family where you're not wanted, and, in fact, hated and abused, you learn how to fight. There were times I fought myself...beat myself up just because. I spent the last few years trying to find some peace from the internal fighting. Now...now another internal fight was beginning. But fight cancer? I was really good at kicking my own ass- an expert really...but kick cancer's ass? How?
That was last Christmas...I'm still fighting...
