Cancer

Today, I walked down hallway 42 at Shands UF. To people who know the hospital, this is the "cancer unit" or bone marrow transplant unit. unit. And I got to thinking, brewing, steaming.
Cancer is my enemy. I don't have a lot of enemies, but I would say if cancer was a person, I would murder it. And it would be a slow, cruel death, like the ones in a Tarantino film. Three of my four grandparents had cancer. My Grandma Maryanna lost her breasts but finally beat the cancer and (in a cruel and cold way) died from ovarian cancer. My aunt spends her days in excrutiating pain secondary to the cancer that is attacking her bladder. My mom called the other night, and after all the pain she has held her sister's hand through, she just found out she has thyroid cancer. Cancer not only attacks your body, it wages war against the heart and soul and tries to drown families. 
Walking down the cancer unit at Shands, you see the grayness of the disease. Broken smiles, and broken bodies. But every once in a while, a glimmer of hope peeks it's head out. "I am getting out of here tomorrow. And they say I am in the clear." I smile, I hope, I pray that it stays away. I want it to. I need it to. Leave forever.