The Cure For Cancer

You don’t just wake up one day, decide you want to find the cure for cancer, and then have it taken care of by bedtime.  There’s a lot involved in an undertaking of that magnitude.  Here’s a brief rundown…

First you need to get through medical school.  Then you need to be hired by a fancy research facility.  Next you have to convince your boss that curing people will be more profitable than treating them.  Then you are required to scrounge for research grants.  That’s followed by saying goodbye to the notion that you will have time for a personal life outside of the lab.  Finally, you will need to be able to smile non-stop because reporters and the general public want ‘happy looking’ saviours, not ‘exhausted and annoyed by your stupid questions looking’ saviours.

Dr. Craig Phillips has had a lot of questions tossed his way ever since he found the cure for cancer.  How did you make such an amazing breakthrough?  How long did it take you?  What will you do next?

“Dam ingrates!” he wants to say to that last one.  “I just cured your grandpa’s prostate cancer and now you expect me to pull a cure for grandma’s Parkinson’s out of my hat as well?”  But he  knows better, and so he smiles and gives a good natured ‘I just need five minutes to use the washroom and then I’ll get right on that whole Parkinson’s thing’ chuckle.

No one ever asks Dr. Phillips why he wanted to cure cancer, though.  Not one person has thought to ask what drove him.  It’s probably for the best because they likely wouldn’t care for his answer.

Dr. Craig Phillips, born January 8, 1967 to working class parents in the sleepy little town of Wainfleet, Ontario worked day and night for the past ten years for one simple reason: he despises Avril Lavigne.

He hasn’t always hatred Avril Lavigne.  He thought her debut album, Let Go was pretty good; especially considering that she was only a teenager when it was released.  It wasn’t Leonard Cohen brilliant or anything, but not everything has to be.  Sometimes you just need a fun tune to hum, and songs like Complicated and Sk8ter Boi fit the bill.

Then things about her started to annoy him; like how one minute she’s dressed to go skateboarding and the next she’s all glammed up.  What is she – a punk or a princess?  Plus take her song Girlfriend – good God, that’s horrible.  And those ridiculous tattoos of hers!  Who in their right mind gets their boyfriend’s name tattooed under her breast, or the F-word stamped onto her ribs?  Those vampire incisors of hers and the five pounds of black eyeliner drive him up the wall as well.  So does her choice in men.  Deryck Whibley, Brody Jenner, Chad Kroeger – awful, awful, awful.

But the thing that fueled Dr. Phillips’ distaste for all things Avril Lavigne more than anything was the fear that one day she would receive a star on Canada’s Walk of Fame.  Dr. Phillips didn’t want to live in a world where people such as Avril Lavigne received so great an honour before people doing truly important work did.

That’s why he sacrificed everything to find a cure for cancer.  Sure, saving all of those people has been a nice bonus as well, but tonight he’ll get the payoff he’s truly wanted from day one: a star on Canada’s Walk of Fame.  He’s checked the guest list for the ceremony.  Everyone who’s anyone will be there.

Avril Lavigne, he has noted, has not been invited.  Dr. Phillips likes to imagine that she’s at home, wondering what her next tattoo should be.

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