If you want to understand financial trauma, ask a cancer patient to describe what used to be their savings account.

If you’ve ever suspected the universe was trolling you personally, this joke will feel uncomfortably accurate.

Cancer turns you into a circus performer no one trained, paid, or emotionally prepared you to be — and this flamingo absolutely gets it.

Few phrases trigger a cancer patient’s inner rage goblin faster than a cheerful doctor asking, “How are we feeling today?”

Nothing tests your will to live quite like being sent back to the pharmacy for the third time in one day because they swear your meds “should be ready now.”

Nothing screams ‘universe gone rogue’ quite like realizing your life syllabus now includes mandatory coursework in chaos.

There are plot twists, and then there are the kind of cosmic sucker punches that make you question whether the universe mixed up your file.

Nothing prepares you for the psychological whiplash of getting life-altering news and immediately being smothered by inspirational slogans from people who don’t know what else to say.

There’s nothing quite like discovering that your daily mail has transformed into a financial tsunami trying to drown you in your own living room.

Few things capture the surreal logic of cancer care better than a joke about a broken lightbulb that somehow becomes your problem.