If Cancer Was a Person, I’d Square Up

Let’s be honest for a minute.

If cancer was a person…

I’d fight it.

Not metaphorically.

Not emotionally.

Physically.

I’m talking full-on parking lot confrontation.

Because cancer has taken a lot.

It takes hair.

It takes energy.

It takes plans you spent your whole life making.

It steals normal days.

It steals the version of your future you thought was guaranteed.

And the worst part?

It does all of this without even showing its face.

If cancer was a person, I’d want to look it in the eye.

I’d want to ask it a few things.

Why me?

Why anyone?

Why children?

Why families?

Why people who were just living their lives?

I imagine it sometimes.

Cancer standing there like some smug little villain thinking it’s won something.

And I’d just crack my knuckles.

Because here’s the thing cancer doesn’t understand.

People like me?

We don’t go down quietly.

Some days cancer wins little battles.

It wins days when I’m exhausted.

Days when my body hurts.

Days when the future feels a little scary.

But even on those days…

It doesn’t win me.

Because every day I get up…

Every day I laugh with someone I love…

Every day Mojo curls up next to me like I’m the most important person in the world…

Cancer loses something.

It loses the power to take everything.

Because it can mess with my body.

But it doesn’t get to take my humor.

Or my stubbornness.

Or my ability to still find moments that are good.

So yeah.

If cancer was a person…

I’d absolutely square up.

But since it isn’t, I’ll settle for something else.

Living anyway.

And that might be the fight it hates the most.

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One response to “If Cancer Was a Person, I’d Square Up”

  1. mshibdonssciencelab Avatar

    Amen, beautiful!! Hugs!

    Like

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I’m Izzy

Welcome to mojo and the mess, This isn’t the blog I ever expected to write — but it’s the one I needed.

I’m Izzy, a twenty-something living (and dying) with terminal cancer, navigating the messy, heartbreaking, unexpectedly beautiful in-between. Here, you’ll find raw reflections, real talk, dog snuggles (shoutout to Mojo), and the unfiltered truth about what it’s like to face the end of your life before it really got going.

This space is for the ones who’ve felt forgotten, the ones who don’t know what to say, and the ones who are still holding on. It’s not always pretty, but it’s always honest.

Thanks for being here. You’re part of the mess now — and I mean that in the best way.

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