By Guest Blogger, Sandy Davis

Nearly 6 years ago, my son was diagnosed with Philadelphia Chromosome Positive B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Last July, he officially graduated to the survivors’ clinic.

When I was first told that my son would be graduating to the survivor’s clinic, I was so torn. The oncology clinic had been our home for so long. They were our family. But as the weeks passed, I started to feel like it was time.

Time to let go a little more…

Time to allow my heart to move away from his diagnosis a little more…

Time to start another new normal – living the life and accepting that my son is a cancer survivor.

There’s that word again. Why is that word so hard for me? I can’t begin to tell you just how grateful we truly are that our son is still with us. We absolutely never take it for granted. Not ever. Yet at the same time it is hard to hear the word, “survivor.” It really is.

I think it’s because we have watched so many others who fought equally as hard and are not on this earth any longer.

To us, a “survivor” is more of a statistical term for research. But a “warrior”? That’s what EVERY fighter truly becomes. A warrior.

Cancer has a mind of its own, but you fight anyway. Even when death is imminent, you still fight. You get knocked down over and over on purpose to try to rid your body of a disease that has only one goal in mind: to crowd you out.

Cancer is a giant. And warriors will go toe to toe with giants because often times it is the only choice you have. You may be scared, but you will never back down. You are a warrior.  

Nine months ago, my son – my hero – closed the chapter of being an “oncology patient” and moved on to the “Cancer Warrior’s Clinic!” I am so proud of him. And I’m so proud of every other cancer warrior, with us or not, that I have been blessed to know.