Dear Leukemia,
I'd be lying if I said it was nice to meet you a month ago. You couldn't have came at a worse time. I was having fun at college with my friends, teammates, and my boyfriend. From my understanding, all sickness from the past couple months were build onto you, leukemia.

Of course, like the many unlucky souls you encounter, there hasn't been a day where I don't ask myself "Why me?" I don't mean to sound selfish but out of over seven billion people in this world, you decided to choose to enter my life at such a prime time, my sophomore year of college where I finally started dating the boy that I fell in love with and playing the sport that I love. Why me?

It seems like a long ago, but I don't remember most of my first hospital stay. Did I ever mention that I've never had to go to the hospital til you? My parents remind me every day how thankful they are that I am alive, breathing on my own, and able to move around a little bit. Every time they tell me how thankful they are that I am where I am today, it brings tears to my eyes because I want to be in a better place than where I am now. They remind me of their nightmares which was really a reality of the four days I was laying in the ICU, unable to speak to them, unconscious, and in a medically induced coma. Every time my dad tells me the story, he freezes up and can't continue. My mom tries to not repeat the story and relive the nightmare of where she almost lost her only daughter.

From the the little over three week hospital stay of where I lost over 30 pounds and probably had a hundred visitors, I only remember bits and pieces and the last couple of days. I remember my parents giving up sleep to be by my side a couple minutes longer even though they had work in a couple of hours. I remember my mom having to leave my room because she was trying to hide that she was crying. Little did she know how much I wanted to chase after her and bring her tissues but I couldn't move much more than my arms. I remember my teammates and my coach visiting me in the hospital bed where I could barely get up before they head to a tournament that I so wish could be playing in as well. I remember sending broth, jello, and water back for almost two weeks because I was only allowed to eat liquids. I remember my friend's mom giving up her time to spend at her own home, in her own bed with her husband and kids just to be at the hospital at night with me so I won't be alone. I remember my boyfriend sacrificing his weekends to stay with me even though he'd seen the worst of me in the hospital. And I remember the first time I untied my hair where a handful of my hair fell out and I wanted to believe it was because I hadn't brushed it but I knew inside it was because of the chemotherapy.

Leukemia, you have stolen enough from me. I have spent a lot of time crying since you came into my life and to be completely honest, I probably won't stop crying about you for a while. But I also want you to know that you have brought my family closer and stronger. My mom and I have shared countless amount of stories while I was in the hospital and I hope to share dozens more throughout the rest of the chemotherapy I have left. You brought my family closer to God. As much as I may question why all this happened, I also believe he has a bigger and better plan for me. Although I lost most of my eye sight to you, leukemia, Jesus did once heal a blind man so I believe he will heal me too. You have shown me how many people truly care about me with all the support.

Leukemia, you messed with the wrong girl because I'm not losing this fight. I'm gonna win this fight and go running every Sunday morning like I used to with my dad. I can't wait to go shopping again on Saturdays with my mom, even though we may only buy one or two things at the end of the day, we always had such a great time. I can't wait to go back to school and finish my degree and become the physical therapist I desired to be. And I can't wait to go back on the golf course healthier than ever, making more birdies than before.

I don't like losing, and I definitely won't lose to you, leukemia.