fighting

Dear Fuckwit

Dear Fuckwit

Are you scared? Are you quaking in your boots?

You should be.

Today we met with a Woman who is quite scary, takes no bullshit and is determined to rid you.

Yea, so you spread a little into my lymph node, so what. Your poison hasn’t spread anywhere else.

We start our war on you in 3 weeks. Brace yourself, it’s about to get nasty.

I might be tired from the radiotherapy, you might give me loose bowels or make me sick from chemo, but you will not take my spirit and you will not take my hair. Yea, you won’t take my hair because this chemo is fricking awesome.

General Powell is out to cure me, she said so today and with her team and all my support out there I KNOW we will beat you.

Also, I might be small but I am mighty. Do not screw around with a feisty Italian.

It will be fucking tough 6 weeks, but if it gets you gone, then it will not be in vain.

So fuck off now, Fuckwit. Your work here is done.

You really did pick on the wrong person.

Yours, with a radioactive beam,

Waterloo Frannie