The Killer Who Can’t Be Caught. I know he’s coming for me and I’m doing… | by Kristina Etter | Bouncin’ and Behaving Blogs TWO | Jan, 2024

In the summer of 2008, my dad was preparing for his annual fishing trip to Canada. Each year, after the crops were planted and there wasn’t much to do but wait, my dad would take a two-week trip to Manitou Falls in Ontario, Canada.

Dad was a tough, grumpy, old farmer who never let silly things like pain or sickness stop him from doing anything. He simply “worked through it.”

He frequently criticized my mother for the regular physicals and check-ups she had with her physician. It was a rare occasion that my dad ever saw the inside of a doctor’s office — let alone, admit he had something bothering him.

But before he left for Canada that year, he wanted to get something for the minor back pain he was experiencing. His appointment was on a Thursday. We lost him to lung cancer the following Wednesday. He didn’t make it a week.

Cancer had so decimated his body, the doctors couldn’t believe he walked into the clinic that day.

Just three years later, I lost my only sister to breast cancer. Three years after that, my mother joined her, after a 6-month long battle with lung cancer.

And I learned last week that my eldest brother just passed from lung cancer, too.

Cancer runs in my family like a serial killer who can’t be caught. And, slowly but surely, one by one, he is hunting us all down.

Do you remember “Crazy Ralph” from the original Friday the 13th movies?

“Doooooomed! You’re all doomed!” his prophecies for the murderous rampage about to take place were always ignored.

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