Life is not perfect; why should I expect myself to be?
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When my mother texted to tell me that the doctors had found cancer in her lungs, I called and yelled at her.
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Cancer struck my life, checking names off its list like tally marks.
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So I distanced myself from that label of cancer patient, practically dissociating with illness, disease and a perceived weakness. I didn’t want pity or to be seen as less than.
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