Red.
Green.
Blue.
Brown.
Black.
White.
Pink.
Purple & Pink.
Yellow.
Every one of those
colors has a ribbon that represents an insidiousness we’d all like to see wiped
off the face of this planet. What bites even more is that list is such a tiny
one; there are so many forms of this scourge and not enough colors to cover
them all.
Leukemia.
Kidney.
Prostate.
Colon.
Melanoma.
Lung.
Breast.
Thyroid.
Sarcoma.
Cancer is a bitch.
I doubt any of us has
escaped the touch of cancer; we all know someone who has battled it, some who
won and some who did not; we’ve all loved and cared about someone who has faced
the fight. Some of us—not me, and I’m grateful for that—have been the ones in
the thick of the fight, reaching down deep for that one thing that will tip the
scales to victory.
It’s never a fair
fight. I think that’s why, when someone wins, it’s a special kind of wonderful
and deserves over-the-top celebrations. And it’s also why, when someone loses,
it’s an especially heinous thing worthy of deep, boiling anger and
snot-running-down-your-face tears. Because it’s never fair, it’s never remotely
fair.
Cancer is an enemy you
can’t see; it invades and destroys, and does it so quietly that it can be
months before anyone realizes it’s there. It’s hard to fight something you can’t
see, something that steals an advantage without letting you know the invasion
is coming.
Yeah, that’s not fair.
People do what they
can; some go to school for years and years to learn about how to fight cancer,
and how to sneak up on it. Some put their shoes on and walk against it, raising
money so that the people who went to school can fund their research. Some write
papers to teach others, some write blogs to support their friends. Cancer is
one thing everyone is on the same side about: everyone is against it.
It doesn’t really
matter how you go about taking your stand against cancer, whether you’re on the
front line, finding new drugs to battle it, or if you’re in support services,
making sandwiches for the people who are walking and raising money, or even if
you’re the one sitting at a computer, trying to form a coherent thought about
it. It only matters that you want the fight to end forever, and you and it to
end in our favor.
People, cats, dogs,
whomever. You’re in it to win it, to quote the slogan of one of the big breast
cancer organizations. Do what you can, when you can.
Between last years’
Livestrong Day, and this one, we’ve lost far too many to cancer. Some are our
cat friends, some are their people.
It doesn’t matter if
they were a cat or a human, a dog or a bird or a rabbit or a hamster.
They were loved.
They are loved.
We need this to end.
14 comments:
We are purraying for a world where cancer no longer exists.
A lovely post Max.
I think 'the woman' has hijacked your space this morning Max.
.....but given the subject, I guess that is fair!
Today, I am purring for a cure. As hard as I can!
You said it all, Max. Cancer sux. We purr for those who have been and those who are affected by the evil C. Livestrong!
Cancer has unfortunately touch just about everyone's life. It needs to go deaded. We posted about the Mommie's sister and her cancer battle on our site.
You forgot one very serious cancer, Liver cancer. My man guardian survived with a liver transplant, he is still recovering.
Max, you have said it better than we could have! Live Strong
Cancer sucks, Max. You should treat it to a toothy death.
I'm an 8 year survivor and I can't say this enough -
Thank you to everyone in the fight! Your work helped save my life! Keep kicking cancer to the curb!
~Vicat
I support all cancer fighting organizations that I can financially do. I lost my first husband (and best friend in the whole world) to cancer of the esophagus in 1997. Cancer sucks and we need to do everything we can to make it be gone. Great post Max and "Woman"!!
Cancer is evil! I lost my dad to leukaemia when he was 36 years old. He spent a considerable time in hospital before he lost his battle. Back then children were only allowed to visit on rare occasions so I barely remember him, but I have photos of myself as a toddler with him. My mother died aged 50 from metastasized breast cancer. I am the fortunate one. It is 16 1/2 months since my cancer operation and things are looking good.
We are purring and praying that one day soon, cancer will be a thing of the past.
Our human dad is cancer free for 10 years now. He had a sarcoma tumor in his leg and they cut out a big chunk of leg to get it, and all the tentacles it sent out into the tissues. He was treated here at the Univ. of Minnesota a major research center for sarcoma. A few years ago they added veterinary research for sarcoma too!
We totally 'greez with efurry word you said, but we want to add that two dear furiends of the Human have recently beaten Big Bad Cancers with lousy prognoses (inflammatory breast cancer & advanced ovarian cancer). It's been more than 8 years for both of them and the Human wants people to remember that funding research really DOES lead to better treatments which really DOES lead to people getting CURED and getting to live out their lives!
Sadly, of course, many people do not make it, including the Human's dad who died almost 30 years ago, and we purray for all of them, Humans and Kittehs and other creatures great and small XOXOXO
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