My cancer is back, but don’t be deceived: it was never beaten

Normal was precious, cherished and distinctly temporary.

Within a measly four weeks of finishing 10 months of treatment, it was already shattered. As I collect the shards, I am reminded that this is not the end. This is simply on the continuum of healing.

I expected a few months of disease-free Nirvana, but my cells had a different plan. That’s the thing, though – I never fooled myself into thinking I’d “beaten” an incurable, rare, late-stage cancer upon completion of frontline treatment. I knew my cancer was 70–80% likely to recur.

We must lay to rest fighting language as it pertains to cancer. Point blank: there are no winners and there are no losers.

Those who outlive their prognosis deal with an onslaught of side effects including (but not limited to): infertility, lymphedema, PTSD, the list goes on. Those who die from cancer didn’t “lose the fight” – in the same sense that an outlier didn’t “beat the enemy.” Sometimes the bravest thing a person can do is refuse treatment, denying the toxins that simultaneously heal and murder everything in their path.

Cancer does not favor the strong, nor does it prey on the weak. A person’s prognosis, above all else, is…