I hate you, cancer.
And coming from me, that's really saying something. After all, I am the girl who says, "I don't really care for olives on my pizza."
And I am the mother who says, "Mo, you don't really hate your brother. You simply dislike the way he bashed you in the head with a dinosaur, and wish he would refrain from throwing prehistoric creatures."
But you, cancer? You, I hate.
I hate you with an intensity that courses through my body like an electrical shock. I hate you with an anger that brings fire to my eyes. I hate you with a loathing that spits your name from my mouth with disdain.
I hate the way you killed my role model Auntie Corrie and my beloved grandmother Barbara. I hate the way you attacked my friend Lisa not once, but twice, with your vicious disregard. I hate the way you turned my friend Karen's world upside down and limited her selfless life of service. I hate the way you left my husband frightened and powerless when his mother told him that she has breast cancer, and that his father may have prostate cancer.
But you know what, cancer? I'm after you.
I am going to do everything in my power to eradicate you before I leave this earth. And I'm going to ask my friends and family members to join me in this battle.
Every time a friend asks me for a donation when they walk or run or compete in a triathlon for a cancer organization, I'm going to say yes.
For every friend or family member that is diagnosed with cancer, I am going to pray without ceasing, and do whatever I can to support them during treatment.
And tonight, I'm going to sit down and watch Stand Up to Cancer. Then I'm going to make a donation to the scientists who are, right this very moment, searching for a way to destroy you.
Get ready, cancer. The fight is on.