Sunday, 13 October 2013
I'm so sorry that you have to go through this again. It's weird isn't it, how life turns out. If, 3 years ago, somebody had told us that 3 years from now one of us would be at war with leukaemia, the chances are that we wouldn't have believed it for a second. We might have even laughed in disbelief. And then we'd have gone back to inventing our next ridiculous excuse as to why we'd be rolling into work late next weekend, inventing mystery appointments and dramatic plot-lines just to allow us an extra few hours to throw hideous shapes the night before.
Although our jobs changed and our priorities changed and the same, grubby nightclubs lost their appeal, there were some things that were never meant to happen, and this was one of them. And for that, my heart can't help but break a little for you, but really, it's the cancer that has the biggest fight on its hands. You beat it once, and you will beat it again. Never stop believing that, and never take your eyes off of the finish line. We will all be crossing it with you. Some of us will get naked and film you the saucy Macarena to celebrate. (Aka me).
I know we have a bizarre fantasy that we will go to Hogwarts one day, but let me tell you this. You don't need a wand, a cape, or a grand castle to make you wizardly. There is a magic inside of you that even our idol-chum Dumbledore would envy. You have a fierce spirit and an incredible strength that I am in complete awe of, and that I know will carry you through the days ahead.
And remember, courage isn't just about warpaint and marching on like everything's fine. Courage is about falling apart and still waking up the next day with the desire to fight this hideous disease. Courage is about feeling scared and sad and angry and still finding little reasons to smile. Courage is everything you see when you look in the mirror. Even on the days you can't feel it, I promise you it will always be there.
So here's to your fight, you glorious hunk. Be brave, stay focussed, and try to find something beautiful in every single day; a smile from your mum, a funny little moment with your awesomely peculiar boyfriend, a cloud shaped like a unicorn. Do what you have to do to see the next sunset, to enjoy the next adventure, to laugh so much you're a shrieking, hysterical mess, to achieve all of those big dreams of yours, to fall even more wildly in love, to grow into a silver-haired fox, to be mischievous, to live the life you so deserve.
I will be here for you every step of the way and give you absolute permission to cry on me, be sick on me, and convince me to do ridiculous things to cheer you up. I love you with the entirety of my heart (and my breasts) and I look forward to the day you've kicked ass all over again.
You're one of the best friends I've ever had, and though I don't know much; I know this. You are Emazing. Cancer's not having you. Before you know it we'll be back sitting on the beach beneath the fireworks, enjoying a cuddle and a hearty chinwag about nudity and sex and menfolk and taking hideous, wonky photos that cut our heads off and make us laugh for a million years. You can even serenade me again with your horrific 'cat-in-labour' voice, if you really have to.
Love you forever,
Kathy (aka Kaff/Pat/bitch features/Voldemort lookalike)
Next month I will be taking part in 'cuffed for cancer', a fundraising initiative that I came up with to raise lots of money for the incredible charity who are supporting Emily and her family through this difficult time. If you've got a spare fiver in your bank and want to make a difference, you know what to do.