Every two weeks my mom sits in a chair. An IV is poked into her arm. Fluids flow into her veins with vengence, ready to fight the cancer cells that are swimming around; the tumor that needs to be blasted on high heat in the dryer to shrink.
And I’ve decided that every two weeks, I will wear a specific t-shirt. A t-shirt that declares to the world, to the cancer, that I am on my mom’s side.
I wore that shirt today to my mom’s second round of chemo.
Because cancer needs to know that I’m fighting too.