Michael Popp, diagnosed with leukemia last December, chronicles the daily grind after surviving pneumonia for the second time:
Some days it seems unfair. To have to endure this at any point. You feel cheated. A lot of people will speak of God to you. They will mention how much he has done for you. You nod and thank them. But you know no God is with you. No God absorbs your misery. No God is curing you. You know this because you suffer. You suffer daily. You undergo treatments that destroy your body cell by cell. Treatments that will continue to ruin your body decades from today. You submit to them. You endure them. You accept the consequences. You think about your future and tell yourself, “This is saving my life.” This is saving my life. You repeat this when you pull your head from a bucket filled with bile. Your face swollen. Your eyes red and wet. Your throat burning, you smile. This is saving my life. You cry all day every day without shedding a tear or making a sound. You just cry on the inside as this sadness builds. You just want to be better. You just wish it would go faster. You don’t pray. You hope. It isn’t even about your mortality anymore. You haven’t been concerned with death in weeks. This doesn’t surprise you. It gives relief. You understand you will live. You repeat it. I will live. You don’t see another option. I will live. Sadness weighs on every cell in your body. Sadness becomes its own cancer.
Previous Dish on Popp’s struggle with the illness here.