Cancer Was No Match For David Quessenberry, And Neither Was His Cancer Center's Bell

cancer did NOT make me strong. cancer did NOT make my family strong. cancer did NOT galvanize my community. cancer did NOT bring rival team Head Coaches and players together to support me. cancer did NOT bring people together. cancer did NOT make people travel hundreds of miles to help me and my family in our time of need. cancer did NOT make people pray for me. cancer did NOT bring me my Angel. cancer did NOT make me thankful for my life. cancer did NOT make me a believer that there is more to this world than just our eyes can see. cancer did NOT shape me into the man I am today. Love did. It has Been more than 1000 days since my fight began. Yesterday I received my last infusion of chemo therapy. The things I have seen and the things I felt through my fight I could never forget and last night after a full day at MD Anderson I watched a video that @meeeglit put together for me. It was filled with short clips of the people I hold most dear to me that lasted for more than an hour and every second of It was absolutely incredible. I don't know what to say to every one other than Thank You, I Love you, and I will never forget you and the kindness and Love you showed me. -DQ "Love backed by Faith is unstoppable" P.S. this bell just like cancer never stood a chance...

A post shared by David Quessenberry (@davidqberry) on Apr 12, 2017 at 1:11pm PDT

Look, I know that MD Anderson has more important things to concern themselves with than the sturdiness of the inanimate objects they use for symbolic gestures of perseverance. Still, I think they have to get someone in there to do a better job securing their "I beat cancer" bell. For one, it feels like a bad omen for one hearty ring to send something that represents strength and persistence crashing to the ground. More importantly, an NFL player shouldn't have to frantically look around like "oh fuck, what did I just do?" when he's trying to celebrate the most important and impressive victory of his life. It's not three long, grueling years of chemotherapy, but feeling like you did something wrong due to poor craftsmanship is not a pleasant experience either. I don't know that you need to build your bell to withstand the exuberant force of a healthy offensive tackle, but it might not be the worst idea when the bell in question is rung by those that are finally done enduring an ungodly amount of physical, mental, and emotional pain. David Quessenberry had the look of a man that could have finished off the Liberty Bell once and far all. However, the ease with which his cancer center's "you did it" bell fell to pieces is not worthy of the ringing endorsement that should be saved for everyone that was responsible for ridding him of an awful, debilitating disease.