Cancer is responsible for killing my grandmother and I wish it hadn't.

There's not a movie in the world that can accurately depict what it's like to watch a person you love go through cancer. You could watch The "Fault in Our Stars," "My Sister's Keeper" and "50/50" back to back and still not fully grasp what the disease is capable of.

I know I didn't.

Cancer is a cruel S.O.B. It forces you to sit and watch as it slowly takes away your loved one bit by bit. You don't just notice her weight changing; it's the fullness of her hair, the way her speech begins to fade, and her inability to get out of bed.

But that's not the worst part, the worst is when she no longer remembers who you are.

That's the part that will kill you if you let it. You'll start criticizing yourself for not telling her how much you loved her, how selfish you were for not spending enough time with her because you were "too busy."

I always thought that cancer was an illness with a deadline. In my mind, cancer didn't have the capability to linger on and cause people pain indefinitely. But obviously, I was wrong because although my grandmother has passed on to her next life, my family is left dealing with its aftermath.

Even now, the memories paint a more vivid picture of what my grandmother went through than what my words can explain.

Now I can hardly get through a show or a movie that has a cancer-related scene. I don't believe there will ever be an actor who can portray that amount of pain and suffering and I'm thankful for it.

That's not a feeling I'd wish to fully share with anyone, let alone the world.