I know, it’s a cheesy song and video, but… hey, my blog, right?

So – words. When you have cancer, or have survived cancer, (and know someone who died from cancer), you notice what people say. Which words they use. Which words they don’t use.

“I heard about this miracle diet which kills cancer!”

No thanks. I’m not interested in trying to treat cancer with wheat grass or kale or ginger or garlic or cumin or honey or lemon or a cat’s fart. If there was an easy way to treat cancer, without all the side effects – short or long term – don’t you think doctors would use that, instead of almost killing the patient in the process of killing the cancer cells?

This is my favourite cancer meme. https://xkcd.com/1217/

“S/he lost the battle”

You know what? That’s pretty condescending. People die from cancer. It’s not because they didn’t fight – it’s because cancer is a killer, and for any given reason, medicine is unable to stop it from killing you. It was discovered too late. It was a form that’s kinda untreatable. It had spread to some really necessary organ. You had wheat grass instead of chemo.

No cancer patient decides “Hey, I’m just going to let this alien kill me”. No matter what shape, form or type of cancer, we ALL want to survive it. Saying that someone “lost the battle” as if they didn’t fight hard enough? That’s bullshit. It’s rude. It’s disrespectful. It’s mean. If I die from cancer, and I’d wanted a proper grave, I would have wanted my stone to read “She brought a knife to a gun fight”. Except I don’t want a grave. I want my ashes spread in my forest.

Not asking questions directly

Okay, so I might be a bit more open about my cancer history than others. I talk. I write. It’s one of the reasons I survived this mess. I don’t mind talking about it. I don’t mind being asked questions about it. Hey, if you want to see my scars, feel free to ask me! You can ask me anything and I’ll answer. If I don’t know, I’ll tell you. I’ll probably google it and let you know immediately.

But don’t waste my time being passive-aggressive and expecting me to figure out what information you’re after. I don’t do that.

Feel free to trust me with secrets

One of the good things about chemo brain is that I forget what people tell me – and I forget who tells me what – so I don’t share what I’ve heard with others. Your secrets are safe with me. Mostly cos I forget what you’ve told me three seconds after you tell me. But I do try to remember the important stuff. I do my best to remember the stuff that matters to you, because I know you’re only telling it because you trust me. So… if I forget, it’s not because it doesn’t matter, and if I remember, it’s a compliment. Kinda.

“I have (had) cancer but it’s a secret”

I respect your wish for privacy, but what?

I don’t understand people who keep their diagnosis a secret, at least not breast cancer. I’m sorry. I don’t get it. At some point, it’ll be common knowledge – either because you get the shitty curls from hell (I am SO glad my hair is back to normal and no longer looks like my gran’s perm from the 80s) or because your wig gives it away or because chemo ruins your life and you need months to get back to normal. If you ever get back to normal.

It’s not as if we chose to get cancer. It’s not a life style cancer (unlike lung, stomach, anal or others), and although producing a brood of children early on and breast feeding them for ages might make you less susceptible, there’s no guarantee.

I have a new take on statistics 

Cos guess what? 1 in 7-10 of all women will get breast cancer. Let’s do this easy – and say that 10% of all women get breast cancer. It doesn’t mean squat. It doesn’t mean that there’s a 10% chance of you getting cancer. It means that if you do get breast cancer, you’re part of the unlucky 10%. That – for me as a statistician – is a massive difference.

A friend of mine recently said “You know a lot of people with cancer” and I’ve thought it through – a lot – I can’t remember who said it, but it doesn’t matter. The correct term should have been “You know a lot of people who are honest with you about their diagnosis”. I probably don’t know more people with cancer than you do, but because I’m so open about my diagnosis, some people might feel more comfortable telling me about theirs.

I don’t know.

I just know that you need to check your lemons. <3

“…”

If you don’t know what to say – say that. “I don’t know what to say”. It works just as well with cancer as with death and fire and all kinds of bad stuff happening. “Hey, I heard you got cancer, I have no idea how to respond” IS a response. Silence isn’t. “I have no words” followed by silence isn’t. “Shit babe, I’ve no idea what to say but here’s a crappy meme” is.

Thing is – we all have bad shit happen to us. No-one’s life is perfect, even if it might appear to be so.

And I know you probably haven’t read this far, cos there are so many words… which don’t come easy… but I hope you know that if shit does happen to you, you can trust me.