One Hell of a Fight

"You put up one hell of a fight." Meaningful words, yet they're words you still never want to hear, especially when you're fighting cancer. Well, that's a phrase that I heard today. For the first time since I was diagnosed, I heard this phrase. And now it keeps replaying over and over again in my head.

There were many ways the doctor could have said what he needed to say. "There's nothing more we can do for you." "We've run out of options." "You should start thinking about and planning for the inevitable."

No one ever wants to hear any of that. Those words sting. No, not sting, they hit you. Hard. It's like a hard punch, low down in your gut. You feel this tugging at your chest and a knot in your throat. You can't speak, but you can't cry out. The silent tears just roll down your face, as you look around the room and try to catch your breath. Try to grab on and focus on one thought, while millions are going through your head. 

This is it. I did put up one hell of a fight. I don't want to feel like I lost though. Cancer did not win. If I had lost, I would've came away empty handed. I am not empty handed. I'm more of a person now than I ever was. It was quite the journey, these past two years. I learned so much. So much about myself and about others. So much about life and how it's suppose to be lived. I met so many amazing people along the way and made lifetime friends. I grew closer to my family and made some of the best memories that I hope will never be forgotten. Some of my best days were spent fighting cancer. Doing things that I probably would have never done if I hadn't been diagnosed. I went skydiving. I was able to go to a Washington Spirit soccer game and even met my favorite athlete, Ali Krieger, who's always been such an inspiration to me.

 I loved like I've never loved before. I started an auto project on my car with my younger brother. One that I hopes he continues to keep working on long after I'm gone. I teased my older brother more than ever, but he knows it was only out of love. I stole street signs with my friends because it was just something I had always wanted to do. (It's kind of a victimless crime, so don't judge:) I came home from college, where I had met some amazing lifetime friends, to spend more time with my family. My parents. I made long trips back and forth to my second home, Boone, just to see the beautiful college town I fell in love with years ago and to spend time with those people who I don't just consider friends, but family. Time with my rugby team and coaches, who definitely are all my second family. My three best friends in Boone (trifecta forever). I never could have gotten through any of this as long as I did without those people. Trips to Asheville to see one of the best friends I could've ever asked for in this life. And riding around in my car almost every Friday and Saturday night, doing "hoodrat stuff" with my younger brother and sometimes, even a few friends. Riding around in the nicest looking lifted white jeep I've ever seen, with one of my best friends, slinging some mud or even just talking about life.  So, this fight with cancer didn't bring me down, but only lifted me up. 

I never want to hear anyone say that I lost my battle with cancer. I did not. I won. I won because I received so much more out of this fight than cancer did. You may have taken my health, my organs, and my body, but you didn't take my spirit, my attitude, or my love. And because of that, I won this fight. Not cancer.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me these last two years through anything and everything that I've been through. The messages, emails, phone calls, texts, letters, cards, etc. are what got me through each and every day. I never would have made it this far without all the love and support from all of you. I'll never have all the words to thank you enough for all that you've done and all you will do. I love you all. Always and forever. 

❤️Kristen