Some questions should never be asked.
Of a person who has just been given the cancer diagnosis, “Aren’t you terrified?” is one of them.
It’s probably one of the stupidest questions on earth.
Most people who are facing cancer treatment are scared. Being asked it is about as useless as “Are you alive?” or “Are you human?”, and worst case scenario, you end up scaring the person even more.
I’ve never been afraid of my own cancer, but I was talking to a very dear friend who had cancer for the first time at age 22 (a few years and couple of cancer rounds ago) who said “I am terrified every single day of cancer” and she’s not alone in that.
Waiting for bad news is terrifying, this is standard human behaviour.
Finding that damned tumour is terrifying. Waiting for the results of pathological testing is terrifying. Waiting to start cancer treatment is terrifying. Going through treatment is terrifying. Waiting to find out if the treatment works is terrifying. Waiting and hoping for the “cancer-free” message is terrifying.
If you’ve survived cancer you will always be terrified of cancer, for the rest of your life, because the probability that you will have cancer more than once is highly probable. Breast cancer survivors are more likely to have skin cancer (due to radiation treatment), gynaecological cancers and a second round of breast cancer.
Cancer strikes the fear of God into even the strictest agnostic.
And no, that fear is not understandable if you haven’t been there. If enough people ask if you’re afraid, you will become afraid.
But the people I don’t understand are those who fear cancer testing. Mammograms, ultrasounds and smear tests are uncomfortable. There isn’t a woman I know who doesn’t dread a visit to her ob-gyn, but seriously.
Ten minutes of discomfort yearly are a small price to pay to not have to undergo chemo that knocks your body well out of shape. Having to look at your sagging breasts in the mirror once a week may be a sad reminder that we are long past the perky tits of our twenties, but looking at two healthy tits is a whole lot better than having to see one missing.
This is the most important meme in the world and I will keep sharing it forever. These signs and symptoms may come months before you feel that darned lump!
A twentysomething once told me that she was more concerned about the potential side effects of the HPV vaccine than getting cancer. I’ve hardly seen her since I was diagnosed so I think she might be under the impression that it’s contagious. Misinformation kills!
If you have genetic cancer in your family, please make sure you have regular check-ups. Get your genes tested – I know that knowing that you have a disease gene is bloody terrifying, but even if you have one or more of the dreaded genes it doesn’t mean you’ll get cancer. You are predisposed and should have yearly checkups, but it also means that the probability of it being found early on, getting appropriate treatment and becoming cancer-free is much greater than not having the gene, sticking your head in the sand and dying cos you thought “It won’t happen to me”.
I don’t have any cancer genes. My body’s lack of estrogen production should have ensured that I didn’t get an estrophile tumour. Yet I did – shit happens.
Having one or more of the breast cancer genes also means you can get a double mastectomy, get silicone implants, and guess what – no mammary glands, no breast cancer. No uterus, no gynaecological cancers.
And if you do find a lump in your breast – DO NOT GOOGLE! Another dear friend of mine found a lump just before Christmas. I must admit that I have been terrified on her behalf. If I knew a year ago what I have learned about breast cancer over the past year, I would probably have been shitting bricks for myself. Turns out she has the same as me *phew* which was an enormous relief.
There are so many different types of breast cancer, some are more easily treatable than others, and the one I have – though it had an extremely aggressive growth rate – is the one that’s easiest to treat and survive.
Cancer is a fear factory. You will wake up every single goddamned day for the rest of your life wondering “Is this the day I get cancer again?”. It’s up to you to decide how much that fear is going to ru(i)n your life. Not that you can make the fear go away, but if you let it paralyze you, it will.