Thank you, Cancer...

Some people can have cancer, get treated and go about their business. More power to them. I'd like what they're smoking. Most of us, however, tend to think of the "big C" as the gift that keeps on giving. There are others that truly look upon their cancer diagnosis as a gift - something that made them a better person, gave them a new outlook on life, etc. And yeah, I guess it's done that for me. But call me Bitter Betty, but I will never see Breast Cancer as a gift. I don't care how many "survivor" t-shirts you give me or pink ribbons you wrap me up in - cancer blows. Cancer's like getting a vacuum or a dishwasher for your birthday. Sure, you find uses for it, but your life would have been just fine without it. And those leather pants would have been way more fun. You can think of a lot more creative opportunities to celebrate your life. Or when you get a winter coat for Christmas - hello, you needed a winter coat anyway. If it weren't Christmas, you'd still get one... so instead of that karaoke machine you wanted, it's a Columbia parka... -

Sorry, that's my own personal problem :)

But cancer has given me many things. So here, I go -

Thanks, Cancer, for almost taking my big toenails. It's almost a year later and that weird little lifted part is much smaller, but it's still there. Saying hello every time I put those little footsies in shoes. Thanks for giving me something to explain every time I get a pedicure.

Thank you for making me bruise easier. Cancer, I love looking like my husband tossed me down the stairs when I simply bumped my knee against the couch. Or that my three dogs ravage me like wolves when I do some crazy new trick on the pole.

Thank you for utterly fucking up my hair. Everywhere. It's curly where I don't want it to be and patchy where I'd like it to be thick and curly, if you know what I'm saying. My landing strip would be more like a gravel path. (If you don't understand the "landing strip" reference, you're probably related to me in some way that you don't want to know.)

Thanks, cancer, for giving me lymphadema, a condition that makes my left hand swollen and gives me pain in my arm. Thank you for making me resize my wedding ring. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to wear a "compression sleeve." That's hot. H-O-T.

Thank you for making my skin still sensitive to sun even after a year. I love rashes and itching. I love love love not being able to tan. Pasty's the new black.

Thank you for screwing up my eyes. Getting an astigmatism in one eye was a real perk of the treatment, thanks. Thanks for making me pay more money for contacts that I used to. You're a real gem.

Thank you, cancer, for giving me diverticulitis. I thoroughly enjoy any and all problems you can give me with my pooper. Where should I send the thank you card- the one with my colonoscopy pictures on the front?

Thanks for the pounds. Thank you for giving my the opportunity to try new styles in all sorts of sizes. I so would rather buy size 12 clothes than furnish my living room. Thank you.

Maybe one day I'll have less to be "thankful" for. However, I'm inclined to believe Cancer is that guy that stays way too long at the party.