Hi. You have cancer.

Yesterday my doctor called to tell me they found cancer in my cervix.

I was not expecting the call that early in the week. I was not expecting such bad news. I was back at work for the first time since my conization and had to find an open office to take the call. I really believed that all the positive thinking we’d been doing meant there could only be a good outcome. I would not qualify this as good.

My case is being transferred to a gyno/oncologist and I am anxious to get an appointment. The questions and fears swirling around my brain are driving me crazy. My current doc, who is very kind and calls to check on me, is not an expert in cancer so she has only been telling me that with this kind of cancer- adenocarcinoma– the treatment is a hysterectomy. For further along cancer, they also do radiation treatment.  She did say it was encouraging that they found it early and that it’s small (as in millimeters). I’m sure it surprises no one that my over-achieving cervix got the type of cancer that only 10-20% of women get. I always have to be unique.

I also called The Seattle Cancer Care Alliance who are very highly regarded in this field, hoping to get an appointment with one of their doctors. I want more than one opinion. I want all the information I can get. I am holding hope that there is an alternative to getting a hysterectomy that would buy us time to try to conceive without risking my life. If I have to get a hysterectomy, I hope that it can be done sooner rather than later and laparoscopically. Those types of hysterectomies take about 3 hours in surgery with a couple days in the hospital and a 2 week recovery time off work. You can’t go swimming or do anything too strenuous for 4-6 weeks at least. I’m in the middle of planning a wedding and we’re going to Mexico for our honeymoon (hi, infinity pool) . The only problem is that not all doctors do this type of surgery and because it takes longer to perform, it costs more.

Yes, we can freeze eggs, get a surrogate, adopt. I know everyone means well when they suggest these things. It’s just that I JUST FOUND OUT I MIGHT NOT GET TO HAVE A BABY and so forgive me, I’m not really interested in entertaining those options presently. I have a lot of grief over losing that option. Of course I would rather be alive than give birth to a baby but both options come with their own set of feelings that overlap and tangle up inside me. I know the most important thing is to get healthy but I also feel a tremendous sadness at the loss of ever birthing my (and Darcy’s) own child. And all those alternatives cost a lot of money. These surgeries alone are going to be very pricey. We did just buy a house (a big one, with rooms for kids) and are paying for the wedding ourselves. All of this happening right now feels like the worst timing. We’re supposed to be relishing in happy planning for our future. Laying on the floor crying together wasn’t really what I pictured. And yet everything happens for a reason. Even if you hate it.

I wanted to get better at being in the moment, feeling gratitude for small joys, slow down my lifestyle and learn to relax. I hoped to be able to let people in to support and care for me, to strengthen my faith and my spiritual practice, and to let my guard down and be vulnerable. I guess I should have been more specific to The Universe when I wished for those things because here, in this messy cancer package, I’m getting to practice all of them.

108 thoughts on “Hi. You have cancer.

  1. Sizz, I’m so so so sorry you’re going through this. I know you’re strong enough to handle what’s on your plate, but it really, REALLY sucks that you have to.

    Grieve, scream, cry, mourn, shake your fists. You’re facing something that has grief and sadness and anger built into it. You can get to options later, you can get to alternatives later. For now, lean on your support system as you fight through this & know there is an army of people throughout the world right now thinking of you and sending you all the strength in the world.

  2. I am so so sorry to hear this sad news. I love the words Ginger shared above. I am so angry that this has happened to you and send you lots of love.

  3. Dr. Linda Hipps at Seattle Cancer Care Alliance is a wonderful OBGYN and amazingly relatable person with lots of experience with your issue. I see her myself and I highly recomend her. Sorry you have to go through this, but SCCA is a good place to feel at ease with your situation and to take advantage of all they have to offer (both physical and emotional support).

  4. oh sizzle. fucking fuckity fucking fuck. this is so fucking shitty. i’m so sorry.

    i know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re more than strong enough to handle this and to kick it in its fucking ugly-ass butt, but i’m sorry you have to. i am really happy that you have mr. darcy there for you.

    but seriously, fuck this. i’m raging for you.

    (and then, after the rage, know that we will be here to get you through this.)

  5. Oh Sizzle 😦 You can mark this down as the first time I have cried for a “stranger” on the internet. I sit here reading this while nursing my 3-week old little boy. He’s put us through the ringer with a rough birth and lots of fussiness (leaving us exhausted and on edge) lately. I told my husband about this post and he said “Tell her to look at the bright side! She’s only in Seattle, so tell her in 3 hours she can inherit our kid” 😉

  6. When I had to make the decision to have my hyst, I was so angry and sad and bereft. I was DESPERATE to have another child, granted I had one but my pregnancy was miserable, we were broke and scared and I didn’t get to enjoy a single moment of it. I wanted to experience a pregnancy. To bond with my unborn child. To create a nursery, not have a baby while not making minimum wage trying to support two adults and an infant. I struggled and suffered and it didn’t work and ultimately I had to give in and let go of the chance to ever have that experience.

    To say nothing of the weird place I ended up in about what I was without the bits that “truly define you as a woman” or some stupid hormal notion like that.

    It was brutal and that was while all being in a horrible marriage. Now that I am married to the right man and can’t have babies with him? UGH. 7 years of marriage with him later and I mostly don’t think about it anymore but some days, some days I still mourn.

    Everything you are feeling…every fear, every pain, every determination, every wish that the “right” thing would stop being said, every dark horrible mournful awful isolating thing? It’s part of this, unfortunately.

    I’m so sorry that you are having to go through it all in what is supposed to be such a joyous time for you. Know that you are loved through it, regardless of anything.

  7. I am so sorry. Though I’m glad they caught it early and hopefully you will have options. I’ve been thinking about you a lot this weekend and will continue to send positive thoughts your way. Lots of hugs too.

  8. Oh, my heart goes out to you. I read this with tears in my eyes, because I was so sure that this was NOT the result you would hear. You have every right to cry and be angry and grieve however you need to. I am sending you lots of love and strength. Fuck cancer.

  9. My heart is breaking for you right now. Feel whatever you feel. That’s your right. Ginger said it perfectly. I’m so sorry you and Mr. Darcy are going through this but, if there is a silver lining, it’s that I’m glad he is by your side.
    If you need any help navigating the medical field, there are many of us that have friends who are doctors who can help you out and untangle the maze. When you are ready, just let us know and we’ll make the calls to help streamline and take whatever stress off of you we can.

  10. Fuck. That’s awful. I think we can all look for silver linings together later, but for right now, this fucking sucks. You seem like a great person and I was rooting for a more positive diagnosis.

  11. I am so sorry to hear this. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I am hoping and praying for the best possible outcome and keeping you and Mr. Darcy in my thoughts.

  12. Hi Sizzle,

    I found your blog last summer when I was interning at the Seattle Children’s Theatre and looking for some Seattle insight. I’ve always loved reading and I was so excited when you and Mr. Darcy got engaged! I’m so sorry this happy time is being challenged by the raging asshat that is cancer :(. Maybe you’re going to find it odd that some random almost 23 year old across the country is holding you in her thoughts, but I am. From what I’ve read in just one year I can tell you’re an incredibly strong woman and I know you’ll get through this.
    Sending you every positive vibe I have,

  13. This news just blew me away! I can only imagine your disbelief. I am so deeply sorry you are having to go through all of this. I don’t know why life challenges us in these ways–it never makes any sense.

    I know we are only internet buddies, but I am on sabbatical for the next few months and have nothing but time on my hands. If there is ANYTHING I can do to help you, accompany you to appointments, make you laugh, go to yoga together, just let me know.

    I’m thinking of you!!!

  14. On Sizzle. I’m so, so sorry you’re going through all of this. It’s not right and it’s not fair. This is your time to be happy. It is. So many are so happy for you, and that happiness and joy should not be tampered by this… crap. I’m so sorry it is.

    I’m so, so hoping you get answers and more hope from the gyn/oncologist. Cancer knowledge and treatments changes so regularly that if you aren’t in that particular specialty, you might not be familiar with current innovations and treatment paths. You’re young, you’re healthy, it was small and contained. Maybe they can just remove the cervix to give you some time of fertility before you remove the whole shebang. Just, yes. Time. And peace. And I think some good news or hope from the gyn/oncologist will do you a world of good.

  15. Oh gosh, Sizzle, I’m so sorry. You’re right that none of this should be happening.

    No advice for you, just hugs and love.

  16. Don’t make apologies for being upset. You have every right to be upset. People give advice & anecdotes because they don’t know what to say.

    Know what I want to say? This fucking sucks. And I’m pissed for you. But I’m also sorry and I am thinking of you during this time.

  17. There is nothing I, or anybody else, can say to make this suck any less… but I do hope that since they caught it early, there will be some options. There MUST BE.
    We just won’t take no for an answer, will we?!

    I am sending lots of love and positive thoughts and hugs and all that good stuff your way, Sizz.

  18. Oh My Dear, I am so sorry to hear this. It just seriously SUCKS. Damn and Shit. And Fuck. Loving thoughts to you and Mr. Darcy.

  19. This sucks. Completely. Although I know that you are going to be Just Fine, I am pounding my fist on the table for you. If you need anything, please reach out. Because we’re here.

  20. The road to your happy future has taken a slight detour. It sucks and it shouldn’t happen, but your happy future is still out there waiting for you. It sounds trite, but all I can say is keep your eye on that prize, because you deserve nothing less.

    Love you lots and sending nothing but good thoughts your way.

  21. Oh Sizz. I am sorry, too! I doubt there is anything I can say to make you feel better but know we are all sending love and strength for what lies ahead. Seattle is world-renowned for cancer treatment. Big hugs to you and Mr. Darcy.

  22. Ugh. I am so sorry to hear this. It sucks and and you should be pissed. Of course you should. Fuck Cancer. So totally unfair.

    My mother in law has received wonderful care at SCCA. It really is an amazing resource to have in the NW. Absolutely, get a second opinion on what action to take. And I know you and Mr. Darcy will both be great advocates for your treatment, whatever that ends up being.

    Still holding you in my thoughts, and sending positive thoughts and hugs your way.

  23. Tears with and for you, Sizzle. The Universe really does have a twisted way of throwing curve balls at you. I have all kinds of ideas swirling around my head about postponing the wedding to focus on your health and not postponing the wedding to give you a real positive to focus on … and more … but, really, I need to just be quiet. This is your time, your space, your need to vent, to feel, to cry, to figure it out. We just need to be *here* to support you. Know I’m thinking of you, sending strength to you and wishing I could be there to hold your hand, give you a shoulder to lean on or an ear to shout into.

  24. Sending out excellent good thoughts to you for strength and healing.

    Not sure whether you know the blogger Schmutzie. She went thought a cervical cancer diagnosis and hysterectomy five years ago. Here’s her latest blog post about it. http://www.schmutzie.com/weblog/tag/cervical-cancer Maybe you’re not feeling like reading about it right now, but she has a wicked, dry sense of humor, so when you are feeling up to it, I can recommend her blog.

  25. You are so smart and strong–you are going to be the most informed and therefore well-armed patient any of these doctors ever had! You & Darcy hang in there and know that in addition to everyone in real life loving you and wishing/hoping/praying for the best, you have an internet full of people with you as well.
    Oh girl, this is such bullshit. I cannot wait for you to kick cancer right in its stupid asshole balls. (Asshole AND balls?)

  26. Everyone seems to have said what I’ve been thinking. This SUCKS. Fuck cancer.

    I’m so sorry.

    I am encouraged, though, that its been caught early and you can beat it!

    We are all here to virtually hold your hand and stand by you on this journey. Do what you need to do. We’ll be here. Thinking positive thoughts, making positive wishes and sending you strength and calm. I’m so glad you have Mr. Darcy!

    I’ll be thinking of you. Hugs….

  27. When people’s worlds get turned upside down, causing hopes and dreams to shift gears, you are allowed to feel any damn way you want. I’m so sorry that you are having to go through this, but happy that you have Mr. Darcy and that you are surrounded by family and tons of people that love you. Sending many hugs and much love your way Sizz.

  28. Oh, Sizzle. I am so sorry you have to deal with this. So sorry.

    I don’t want to be all “everything is going to be fine!” because I know that’s mega annoying to hear when you are processing everything, but I truly feel in my heart of hearts that everything is going to be okay. I do.

    Big hugs, girl. xoxo

  29. Oh Sizzle. I’m so sorry. I was so hoping you would get better news. I am sending you the biggest hug cyberspace allows.

    I know a little of the grief of “I might not get to have a baby” – if you need a listening ear on that front, I get it. And I’m so sorry.

  30. 1. This sucks. Profoundly. Heartbreakingly.
    2. I don’t think everything happens for a reason. Apologies if you do, but I think some things just suck (see above), and if god/magic/spiritual-goodness exists, it’s in the love and learning that come from the terrible randomness of the universe, not the randomness itself.
    3. I’ve done some time in not-gonna-pop-out-a-baby-ville too, and while I won’t pretend to know your specific pain, I will say that you’ve gotta own your grief, girl. It doesn’t mean you won’t have kids and love them as if you birthed them, but it means *something* and it’s worth grieving for as long and as loudly as you need to, no matter what anyone else says.
    4. I love you.

  31. I am so so sorry 😦 I totally understand your mixed feelings over the hysteroctomy, and you are totally okay to feel all those things, don’t let anyone pressure you into being upbeat about it! I thought I’d lost the ability to have a child when I was only 15, but I was very lucky and was actually able to conceive. The grief of losing the option is a tremendous one. I just wanted to comment to say that my thoughts are with you and I am very sorry *hugs*

  32. Omg. No words. Tons of strength and positive vibes to you and your lovely Darcy. Love to you, friend. Much love…

  33. All I will say is that I’m here for you if you ever need ANYTHING. Even if I am across the US, I’m here for you.

    You can do this. One step at a time. You can do this.

  34. I saw a friend of mine commeted on your status to Facebook, which brought me here. My sister went through cancer several years ago. She found out after the birth of her son. Based on my experience and perspective, I would say you are wise to get a second opinion. In fact, my aunt has an aggressive melanoma that is taking over her body, and her first doctor told her it was nothing. When she went to a second one, that doctor made the diagnosis. I think often in the medical community, they try to make sure you are not a “repeat customer” so they take aggressive treatments that may not be neccesary for you.

    I also really feel for you with having a baby, because I went through that with my ex-husband. He didn’t have testicles due to cancer, and so we could never have a family. (Of course, the other side of that story was that suited him just fine, where as, like you, I want to have a baby one day. That’s one of the reasons he is an ex.) I really hope you get some positive news from your second opinion.

    One of the communities my sister joined, which I really like, is Planet Cancer. You may be able to find some help there. They make light of cancer, especially since a lot of people don’t think of a young person as getting cancer. I often get the feeling people think cancer has an age cap, but that hasn’t been my experience.

    Good luck on the road ahead!

  35. Hey Sizz, Well crap. Lots of good thoughts & energy coming your way. Let me know if you need anything. xoxo

  36. Long time reader … infrequent commenter. Just wanted to tell you that my thoughts are with you, that this news sucks and that you have every right to feel however you want. Sending hugs and good thoughts your way.

  37. This fucking sucks, I am sorry that you are going through this and all things that dance in your head. You are a surrounded by energy and love at this time. We are all here for you and Darcy.

  38. Oh, no. I’m so sorry to hear this. I was sure that they’d find everything was okay. I’m another infrequent commenter, but I’m sending you and Mr. Darcy all the warm and fuzzy thoughts that I can. {{{HUGS}}}

  39. Wishing I could give you a hug and some in-person tears right now. Sorry doesn’t say enough. I hope you can pull all the people you love tightly around you and just grieve the shit out of all of this. I will continue holding you in that most positive space in my heart. I don’t know how I can help you right now, but if I can in any way at all, please just say the word. Hang in there. You have a lot of people out here loving you from afar.

  40. Hi Shaunessy, I hope you don’t mind that I read your post. I came across it via a mutual friend on FB. I am so sorry about everything that you are dealing with right now. I can’t even imagine the jumble of emotions you must be experiencing – shock, anger, sadness, scared, etc. – One feeling I didn’t sense in your writing was hopelessness. I admire the way that you are looking at your very difficult and challenging situation. That you see this as an opportunity (albeit, a shitty opportunity) to practice all of those things you’ve been wanting to work on is amazing. Thinking of you. XO

  41. I’m sad for you. I don’t know your feelings, but I know mine. And and I just hate all of this. But I love you. And I’m so glad you and Darcy have each other right now.

  42. Fuck, Sizz. I didn’t think you’d hear that, either. Cancer, like other things, is where people like to give a lot of advice. People with no MDs or experience with it. You go ahead and FEEL WHATEVER YOU WANT for AS LONG AS YOU WANT. Cancer sucks, no one deserves it, it steals things from people. You’re allowed to feel violated about that. You’re allowed to mourn those things that it takes. You’re allowed a lot, actually, because you’re the one with it. The only experiences I have had with cancer have told me how terrifying and very personal everyone’s journeys are. All I can say is: One step at a time. Smart to get second opinion. Go with your gut and do what you think is best. One of the only things that kept me afloat during my dad’s, and now my mother-in-law’s cancers is this: it’s not always as bad as they say it will be. You will find your way, and I know you will come out stronger in the end. And you will have time, too, to celebrate the good things. I’m so sorry for the shitty timing, the dumb luck, the fucking cancer. I continue to send you calming, peaceful, healthy, and loving thoughts. Hang in there.

  43. I am so sorry to hear about your diagnosis. I had CIN 4 encircling my cervix and a fairly drastic LEEP two years ago (my doctor didn’t get all the cells, but told me if she took out any more tissue I “wouldn’t have had a cervix left anyway”). I totally lost my shit for a good year or so. There were a number of complications along the way, many of which looked like they might mean a hysterectomy, but not yet (so far).

    I was something of a morbid kid, and because I read too much 19th century lit, I always had such fantasies of what a fabulous sick person I’d make–noble, luminous, gracious, ethereally beautiful in my hospital bed. And I think it was even harder than the procedures (or the godforsaken endless waiting between checkups and lab results, or the total inability to re-formulate what I wanted my future to look like), to come to the realization that I was actually a total asshole patient–grouchy, bitter, angry at everyone, and with absolutely zero desire to be brave or generous or strong. And so be it. Let yourself have whatever you need, even if it surprises you. I was totally shocked at myself, but no one abandoned me, even at my worst. And those I refused to see still came over with flowers when I was finally ready to see them.

    But definitely do get a second (and third, if you think it’s right!) opinion! My doctor was smart and competent, but she was condescending and robotic in her responses to my questions, and it made the process so much worse than it needed to be. I thought it would be OK after the procedure, but it make checkups (especially those with bad results) a nightmare. Be persistent about getting what you need from your providers.

    And keep juicing! My latest lab results looked promising, and I credit it to kale juice (and my partner, who didn’t stop making it for me, despite my endless bitching).

    And just from personal experience, yoga and dance (and acupuncture!) seem to make everything better, but it took me a full year before I was able to get myself back into a class of any kind.

    You will get through this brilliantly, but don’t feel like you have to be better on anyone else’s schedule.

    Sending you lots of love and light and healing.

  44. Damn. I was so hoping for a different update.
    1. Please don’t apologize for your feelings. You are entitled to them. Every single one of them.
    2. Do make sure you get that second opinion. And a third if you still don’t like what you hear.
    3. Never underestimate the power of prayer and/or positive thinking. Miracles DO happen.
    4. Know that so many people (family, friends and complete strangers) care about you and are pulling for you.
    5. You will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers daily.
    6. Screw cancer. (((hugs)))

  45. You have every right to grieve. Feel all the feelings you have, but don’t wallow in them. Get angry at that cancer and kick its ass. Sending you love and keeping you in my thoughts. XO

  46. Fight like the strong ass woman that you are. Then fight some more. Loving prayers being sent from Tyndall, South Dakota my dear. Peace and hugs, Amy

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  48. Wow, fuckity-fuck. That sucks more than words can say. I’m so, so sorry. Sending you positive thoughts and hugs, all the way from New Zealand x

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  50. Absolutley you should grieve, mourn, emote, and anything else you damn feel like. Hang in there – you are in my thoughts and prayers — I wish you peace, strength, and everything in the world you’ve ever wanted. I am very glad that you found Mr. Darcy and that he is by your side as you go through this. Also, smart to get a second opinion. One of my best girlfriends just beat breast cancer, and basically owes it to her “second opinion” which had her starting chemo WHILE STILL PREGNANT instead of waiting 4-6 weeks to deliver. So those 4-6 weeks might have saved her life and I hope that your “second opinion” also presents options that you didn’t know existed that can change your circumstances!

    Love to you.

  51. Oh lady. I am so very sorry to hear this news. I can only begin to imagine all of the emotions you must be feeling right now. I am continuing to keep you close in thought each and every day. You are an amazing woman and it pains me to see you have to go through this. Know that I am right by your side (if from afar), and here to support and comfort you in any way I can. Big hugs and lots of positive energy.

  52. I wish I had something wonderful to say, but all I have for you is a huge mental hug. I’m so glad that you have Mr. Darcy in your life and your commitment to each other, and that you’re not dealing with this alone. I’m so sorry that you’re having to go through this at such a happy time in your life. I’m glad to hear that you are seeking other opinions and other treatment options. Is there a great necessity to get treatment under way *immediately*, rather than possibly after your wedding/honeymoon? Just know that so many people are thinking of you and wishing the best for you and sending positivity your way. Love to you, Siz.

  53. Hang in there. Love and light to you and yours.
    It is a lot. This part of it is HORRIBLE and UNFAIR. It did NOT happen for a reason. You deserve to enjoy this time. Shit happens. Bad shit. And you’ll do your best to get through it. And if there is anything anyone can do to help please just say.

  54. Ugh. There is nothing I can say that will convey how sad, frustrated. and upset I feel for you. 😦 This just fucking sucks. I’m so sorry, sizzle. I hope you do find another option and find out you have more time.

  55. Sizz: I only know you through your comments on Joan’s Debt of Gratitude blog, but that matters not. We ladies gotta hang together when the road gets tough, the rainbowed and glittery unicorn days take care of themselves now, don’t they!

    You are going to get so much advice. Most of it will be wonderful, some of it will fall flat but like everything else, only you will know what works for you and sometimes only when you’ve tripped over it. This is your body, your life, even though it won’t feel like you are in control, you ARE. Choose for you/rself.

    Otherwise I echo: You have my most positive thought waves, candles lit, incense burning, intentions for your healing announced to the universe. And then announced one more time because the Universe? Sometimes she is one moody busy bitch who doesn’t always stop to hear. So listen up, Universe! Sizzle may be down, but she ain’t OUT! Give her time to grieve and space to heal. Let the people say, Amen!

  56. I’m so sorry, friend. You are so amazing in your ability to verbalize what you’re feeling, and although I cannot be certain, I think I would feel the same way regarding commentary about “options” and things that are meant well but are such a contrast to the life you’ve dreamt of for years. You get to mourn that for whatever amount of time is right for you. And whatever other feelings and decisions and behaviors come out of this process are right. You did nothing to deserve getting to this point, and nothing you do to get through it will be wrong.
    I am here for you, and you and Mr. Darcy and your family continue to be in my prayers. Much love, friend.

  57. Sorry to hear this news, lots of thoughts and prayers and healing green light going to you and your uterus.

  58. I’m so sorry about the outcome, Sizzle. Grieve as long and as hard as you need, because both cancer and hysterectomies are major, major things. I’m so glad that you have a good support system, and I know that they’ll take good care of you as you work through your grief and any subsequent things that happen.

  59. Like so many of your readers, I don’t know you personally. But I’ve been a witness to your struggles and joys and life through your blog for several years now. I just want to say that I am grieving with you and praying for you in this moment.

  60. I think I’ve only been a lurker but have actually been reading for years. My heart goes out to you and I hold all my positive thoughts for you.

  61. Well that is the shittiest news ever. Sending you lots of positive energy. So glad you have a great support system. And continue to write if it helps you. You never know how many others you are helping by doing so. You are a strong woman – take time to grieve – but know that you WILL get through this. The internet is pulling for you.

  62. Hi. First, I’m sorry that you have cancer. That’s one of the worst phone calls…I’ve gotten it myself. I’m currently fighting melanoma.

    You’ll get through it. You’ll deal with it. It’ll become part of the everyday. Sometimes I have to say it Out loud because I forget I have it; it’s surreal.

    The hysterectomy SUCKS. No words can make that feel better. When I started my latest drugs, they asked if we were done having kids. We are, but to have that choice taken? Sucks.

    Hang in there. The waiting and unknown make it all worse.

  63. Found my way here via Amy Estes and I have 3 things to say:
    1. You seem like a strong person with a positive mindset.
    2. Fuck cancer!
    3. I’m sending positive thoughts your way.

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