A Letter to Myself

A Letter to Myself on the Day I Found Out I Had Stage 3 Hodgkin's Lymphoma.

Dear Self,
Today feels like the hardest day of your life. Every single thing you thought you had planned for yourself just got thrown up in the air and you don't even know if you'll be alive to celebrate your next birthday, so celebrating this one that's coming seems stupid. How do you celebrate your birth when you can't stop thinking about your death? But that's the thing, isn't it? Death. That's the thing no one wants to talk about and the thing that brings tears to everyone's eyes when you tell them you have cancer. The fear that you're working so hard to control is screaming at you through the eyes of everyone around you as they tell you to fight. They say they're sure you'll beat this, but their tears and their wide eyes betray their doubt. How are you supposed to cope with that? How do you hold your friends as they cry and tell them it'll be okay?
Here's how. Today, you will make the most important decision of your life. For your life. Today, you will think about all the options and everything that could go wrong, and you will decide to smile. Today, you will talk to God like you haven't before and you'll be angry and confused, but then you'll smile. If you want to survive this, you have to decide today to smile every. single. day. No matter how far into hell you feel like you've been thrown, you're going to smile.

I wish I could tell you that today is actually the hardest day of your life, but it's not even close. Get ready to cry, and buy your Kleenex at the Costco cause you're gonna need them. That's okay, though. You have to let yourself cry because I'm pretty sure if you bottle all this up you're going to explode like a bottle of Coke filled with Mentos. For reals. Cry it out. But after you cry, every single time, smile. Even if you have to force yourself to smile, do it just so you remember how it feels.

Want to know what's coming? You sure? It's not all roses and teddy bears, even though you will get some pretty legit stuffed animals as gifts. One even sings! Anyway, back to the whole glimpse of the future thing. You're going to want to stay in bed all day every day, but don't let yourself. People need you, and you need people. If you let yourself be sick and stay in bed, you're going to forget why you're fighting. So every morning when your knees feel like they forgot how to bend, your head feels like it's going to explode, your feet feel like someone set them on fire, and you can't even look at food, take it one step at a time. One painful step and then another. And then, after a while, the pain starts to fade. The bad news is that as soon as the pain fades and you start to feel human again, it's time for more chemo and you're kicked back to worse than you were before. But you'll get out of bed every morning and no one but you will know how much of a victory that will be. Because every time you get out of bed, you're taking control and the cancer loses a little bit of power - one painful step at a time.

You're going to feel sick. You're going to lose your hair, and you're going to realize how much your hair meant to you. You'll be okay though, because really, you're super sexy without hair. Where dem boys at?!? People will stare at you in the grocery store and say insensitive things and you'll cry. One day, you'll end up covered in vomit in your car outside of the chemo clinic calling your dad and sobbing and asking him to come and get you because you literally won't know what else to do. But guess what. That won't be the worst day of your life. I'm not going to tell you what the worst day will be, because guess what, you'll get through it the same way you'll get through every other day - one painful step at a time.

Cancer is going to do some crazy things. It'll rob you of so much that you'll feel like you have nothing left. Start taking pictures of happy moments and things that speak to your soul. You have to keep your soul alive and strong because right now, your soul has to carry you through as your body tries to kill you. Cancer brings out the true colors of the people around you, and I can't prepare you for that. There's no way to prepare you for the late night conversations with friends when you can't really tell them how bad you feel because you know it will terrify them. There's no way to prepare for your best guy friend from college to abandon you because he can't deal with the fact that you might die. "We'll be friends forever, right?" ...Or until cancer comes and they stop calling. Stop texting. Stop asking how you are. Some people can't deal with it, and you can't prepare for that heartbreak. But you'll get through it - one painful step at a time.

Guess what else I can't prepare you for. All the wonderful things that will come from fighting cancer. I know that right now, that sounds ridiculous. Wonderful things? But it's real. Cancer won't make you strong. How you choose to fight will make you strong. Stronger than you ever thought you could be. Not because you had cancer, but because you had cancer and chose to smile and keep walking with your head held high. THAT will make you strong. As soon as death stops controlling you with fear, you'll finally start living. Life isn't about being afraid and giving in when you're in pain - it's about love and happiness and growth, and when cancer strips you of who you thought you were, you'll find all of those things. Love - you'll be 132% overwhelmed when you realize how many people truly love you and support you. It will change how you treat strangers on the street and kids in your classroom and the people you've known the longest. Happiness - you're going to learn that no one and no situation controls how you feel. That's one thing you are always in charge of and you can always choose to smile. Growth - failure won't scare you anymore. Once you've gone through hell, your whole life revolves around finding heaven. You'll learn to take time for yourself and to try new things. Fighting cancer will let you appreciate what you have because you'll learn that it could be taken away at any moment. You'll stare at the sky a little more, smile when the wind touches your face, and wear dark lipstick just because you feel like it.

The next seven months are going to be awful, but you'll make it. One painful step at a time. But just know that every one of those painful steps is bringing you closer to August 16. The day that you'll finally hear the words, "You're cancer free." It will feel like every bit of light in the world rushes into your heart as you walk out of that clinic, and I promise, every painful step will be worth it as you call your best friends to tell them it's over. You'll cry and laugh and hyperventilate a little bit - but in a good way. You'll speed back to your school and tell your coworkers and principals the good news and they'll cry and hug you and you'll know that you've never been alone. You'll film a silly dance just because you want to, and you'll stop wearing hats because your twinkle will finally be back and you won't give a darn what people think anymore. You're alive! Every day now, when you wake up, you won't take painful steps. You'll take steps filled with purpose and hope and strength, and nothing will take that away from you. Cancer will try to weaken you. It will try to convince you that you aren't strong enough for this, but you are. You have God and the best people in the whole world on your side, and you've always been stubborn, so you won't let it beat you. When you walk out of that clinic, finally cancer free, you're going to realize something. Cancer didn't really take anything from you, because everything and everyone that matters can't be changed or stolen by some stupid tumors. You're more than that. You're more than your cancer, more than your tears, and more than your doubts. You are freaking awesome, and you're gonna make it - one painful step at a time.

Love,
You. The future you. The CANCER FREE you.