Cancer and I.

They said many things.
I was eight when they first told me about it.
I wasn't going to be the victim, but someone who meant everything was.
I didn't know that it was going to change everything for me.

Not that it was contagious, but it's repercussions were going to be.
It's like the family was going down, like some doom was emerging.
I remember I didn't understand what it was, or how it ever entered the family.
None of us could do anything about it.
We were now to face it.

It had the ugliest face to itself.
Walking across the Hospitals, it started with a rushed crowd, everyone was in an emergency.
There were gowns of the sick, no smiles, green color, white coats, strechers, dropping glucose and blood bottles, unmatched slippers, hushy cries, people siting in silence and a lot of pain.

 I remember, they sat across the table from that lady doctor.
She checked on her, saying it was getting better, while she was all drenched in pain.
Then there were hours of being admitted, with him sleeping on the couch to lay by her.
Millions of wires connected across her body, I could hear her breathing.
She woke up, telling me to ignore everything and look across the window, to the match our country was winning, in the stadium within the glaring heat.

Then there was this operation, lasting 11 hours. We stayed at a relative's place.
My grampa used to tell me, that this is the last thing, it will make her perfectly fine. I stood there, in that house, looking onto the balcony, across to a family in the window. They were eating lunch together. I counted on my fingures the number of days since we four had had our meals together.
For that one minute, my heart just wanted to live with her, without the cancer in picture.

Not that she's cancer free today, but today, Cancer is not in the scene. It still lies in her body, but she has taken control now.

I hope this is it Cancer. I never wish to face you again.