What’s the saying, “fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me a third time”…well …there really is nothing funny about cancer, the third time around. Perhaps love IS sweeter the second time around, as St. Frank warbled. But cancer? There isn’t even a parade for a third occurrence of cancer.
You know how it is when a celebrity has an unfortunate relapse into the the world of the Guys in the White Van. So irresistible they are that the press is all over a second occurrence. Game shows, soap operas, music contests all stop with the announcement a beloved character is at it again with the cancer. Parades are held, dances, bake sales, all done in the name of getting rid of the scourge that has infected our dear one a second time, lo aleinu. (literally means “not us,” so you shouldn’t bring an evil eye on yourself)
But then it happens an unprecedented THIRD time?! No, I’m sorry, it couldn’t be happening. “Sorry, we’re all booked at that time. Please call back later and see if there has been a cancellation.” The sense of urgency promoted in Round II is perhaps lessened somewhat, as, after all, this is the third time. It isn’t like the cancer is going anywhere. An appointment four weeks from now is just as good as this week.
I do know this. Of all my superskills, one thing that I am very good at is not only being kidnapped by the Guys in the White Van, I believe I might be actually the one driving the van. This isn’t my first or second time at the races, after all. I’m no newbie–no, I am VERY good at growing cancer in various places in my body. Wonder Twin Power? Cancerocity.
So, I will keep the van running until I meet someone with greater super powers than ‘cancer maker.’ Hopefully I will meet this person sooner than later, because I’m not getting any younger. My waistline might not be spreading, but my cancer sure is.