DeepGreenEyes
Whittled
- Joined
- Dec 23, 2007
- Posts
- 8,499
You have a great way with words. Love it.
And FYC!
It's not me. It's the power of the Hating Ghost, speaking through me.
My friend has cancer, it is slowly eating her up, she has been dying for the last 5 years, this is in an inoperable area, she has chemo to keep it at bay as much as possible, but slowly and relentlessly it is taking her. It may take anothe 5 years, or two or one but it is going to take her. So FUCK YOU cancer, fuck you and your poison offspring. I want you removed, obliterated from the face of this planet!
FYC.
It more than fucking sucks. It's a sly little stealing bastard that I've been fighting for the better part of 8 years. Everytime I think it's gotten the hint and has fucked off for good it comes back. It steals energy, thoughts, friends, and anything else it can get it's fucking hands on...so yeah. FUCK OFF ALREADY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
FYC. FY. FY. FY.
Ah cancer, you foul cankerous lech.
You caused pain and death in a man who only ever lived for others. But though mightily did you try, you only killed his body, he was himself until the end. RIP Neil, your black book lives on.
Your evil breath whispered through my Aunt's breast but her medical magical TicTac dispelled your cloying stench.
You have even tried to woo me with your promise of a lifetime of unholy wedded suckage. A knife weilding surgeon knight exorcised you, cruel demon.
All my family will drop dead of massive heart attacks, and that's a giant FUCK YOU.
So, once more, with feeling
FUCK YOU CANCER!
FUCK YOU.
FY, C.
My favorite aunt passed away this morning from cancer. She was an amazing woman who loved everyone fully and with all her heart.
I love you and will miss you always Aunt Darlus.
FYC.
FYC.
FYC.
Fuck cancer.
My Granny, my Daddy's mother, passed away in 2003, the summer after my freshman year in college. She had some relatively form of liver cancer. And thus ended my having one person in the family who understood me. I miss that woman every day of my life. She had a heart of gold. If I could be only a tiny fraction of the person she was, I'd be happy with myself.
Granny and Papa had a daughter who died at the age of 19 from some sort of brain cancer. Daddy was 12 when it happened, so needless to say, I never knew her. To this day, he says that seeing women with extremely short hair makes him twitchy because he always thinks about being a little boy at the hospital visiting his sister, whose head had been shaved from the brain surgeries she'd had.
I always felt an odd kinship to Daddy's sister, even though I never met her, because Granny said she and I were so much alike. We didn't really resemble each other physically, but apparently our personalities were very similar, despite having never met and being born some 40 years apart. I've always believed in guardian angels, and I always thought she was mine. When Granny died, I then felt like I had two instead of one, so I guess I'm luckier than most people in that respect.
My great-aunt, my mother's mother's sister, had breast cancer, but she survived. Unfortunately, her husband has lung cancer that has metastasized and isn't expected to make it through the month. Mother is down there with them now, and she just sent me a text to update me on that situation.
So yeah. Cancer? This is one party your ass ain't welcome at.
FYC.
Just FY.
I have to be careful about the details I share on Lit...or maybe I just can't bring myself to recount the stories now. But cancer makes me feel powerless. Scared. Sad. Anger is a good and powerful feeling. I just feel defeated.
I get that. I really do.
Maybe, like the Whos, if every one of us can utter our own tiny "fuck you."
Well, maybe a “A fuck you's a fuck you No matter how small.”
Too many. Too soon. It's a nasty business that strips the humanity from us and all we love.
MWY agrees: FYC.