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Bible ship

Hey there, fellow warriors! So, here I am, four months cancer-free, and let me tell you, this journey to the "Bible ship" ( "Survivorship") has been anything but easy. I mean, who knew that accepting the fact that I would no longer have breasts would be the least of my worries? Oh, the joys of being a cancer survivor!


Let's talk about the things they conveniently forget to mention when you sign up for the cancer club. First off, the lack of sensation in my breast. I mean, come on! I was expecting some superpowers or at least a built-in cup holder, but nope, just numbness. Thanks, cancer!


And then there's chemotherapy. Oh boy, where do I even begin? Sure, they tell you about the hair loss, but did anyone mention the fact that it's like a bad magic trick where your teeth and nails disappear too? I lost three teeth, people! I'm starting to think I should have invested in a dental insurance plan before all this.


But hey, let's not forget the early menopause party that cancer throws in for good measure. Who needs hot flashes and mood swings when you're already dealing with the aftermath of treatment? It's like a never-ending rollercoaster ride, and I didn't even get a souvenir t-shirt!


Now, let me share a funny story amidst all this chaos. Picture this: I'm sitting in the waiting room, surrounded by other patients, all wearing those fashionable hospital gowns. We're all waiting for our turn to see the doctor, and the tension in the room is palpable. Suddenly, my stomach decides to join the party and starts growling like a hungry bear. I swear, it was louder than the waiting room TV!


Everyone turns to look at me, and I can feel my face turning as red as a tomato. I try to play it cool, pretending it wasn't me, but let's be real, we all know who the culprit was. The awkward silence is broken by a burst of laughter from the other patients, and suddenly, the tension dissipates. We're all in this together, after all, and sometimes, a growling stomach is just the comic relief we need.


Living with cancer as a young adult is no walk in the park, but finding humor in the midst of it all can be a saving grace. Laughter truly is the best medicine, even when you're dealing with the not-so-funny side effects of treatment.


So, my fellow cancer warriors, let's keep laughing, even when life throws us curveballs. We're strong, resilient, and armed with a sense of humor that can conquer anything. Together, we'll navigate this crazy journey called survivorship, one funny story at a time.


Stay strong, stay positive, and remember, you're not alone in this hilarious, challenging, and ultimately empowering adventure. Keep shining, my friends!

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