What would you tell cancer?

Do you read Fat Cyclist? Today, you should. He's funny. He's a cyclist (which we all know I will never be). He's inspirational. His wife has cancer.

Today, he posted an entry that has me crying.

I’d be willing to trade or negotiate. If I could beg for that truce, in fact, I would. “You’ve proven your point. If we agree that you’re the winner, will you stop now? Or if you still want something else, can you take it from me instead?” I honestly can’t think of many limits of what I’d trade.

This is what I say to cancer

Cancer is a part of my life.

Cancer is a part of my life because I work in a hospital devoted to cancer research. I see patients and families on the skybridges, in the hallways, in the waiting areas, and in the dining areas. I see the spectrum of emotions. The fear, the determination, the joy. Through it all, I see an amazing amount of hope and optimism.

Cancer is a part of my life because my stepdad and my uncle are survivors. They beat the odds.

Cancer is a part of my life because my father's mother and my mother's father lost their battles with cancer. They are lost to me.

Cancer is a part of my life because I choose to fight it the only way I can. I swim. I bike. I run (ok, I walk).