Tuesday 10 June 2014

What happens when you say "I have cancer"

I knew something was clearly wrong with me, something severe. The doctor only heightened this thought when he phoned and asked me to come in urgently Monday morning, when the weekend was over. He wouldn't explain anything over the phone, and he used the dreaded line -which universally means you have something terrible wrong with you- "you should bring someone with you."

I brought my Dad with me, we met the doctor and he took us into an unusual side-room; three chairs around a coffee table. On the coffee table was a box of tissues, clearly placed there for the impending doom. The doctor made a little small talk then looked at me and said "It's cancer." To be honest I pretty much stopped being able to listen after that. I sat there, a shell of myself, as my mind became engulfed in a whole other world of thought.  

So now came a very strange part of having cancer, telling people I had cancer. To which I gained many strange, and sometimes hilarious responses. When you tell somebody you have cancer their response will fit into one of the types I'm about to mention.

1) The morbid society
These are the group of people who reply "are you going to die" without even batting an eyelid. You can't help but think, "what's wrong with you?" if I had been told I was going to snuff it do you think I'd be up for answering that question, especially when it was offered so bluntly?

2) The big rejection
This group of people respond by saying something like "Okay...so what did you think of game of thrones last night?" You can see that they are trying to remain cool but their eyes give away a clear distress signal. They freaked out, just give them time, they usually come up later and say sorry.

3) The question challenge
Of which there are two sub sections

a) The nosy naiive

These people are generally gossips in their day-to-day lives. They ambush you with a wave of questions, leading onto other questions, you prepare for some strange questions.
"Are you going to be okay? What did your parents say? Does that mean you can't have kids? What does it feel like? If you did can I get your shoes?" You have to just answer the questions and laugh about it later.

b) The person of experience

They have either had cancer, worked around it, or known someone with cancer. They ask questions only somebody in the know would ask; was the operation a salpingo-oophorectomy? What is your cad125 at right now? Did you have carbo/taxol?" It is actually enjoyable when someone understands these cancer related terms. Although it can feel a bit like a  test on how well you listened to the doctor.

4) The Alice in Wonderland

They cry so much you kinda worry that their river of tears will start a C.S. Lewis style flood. You can't even hear what they are saying. It's a strange concept "I've got cancer...oh I need to comfort you?" A few tears in okay but this is ridiculous!

5) The cheesy cheer up

It is good to try cheer someone up with a hearty "you can do this!" But this group of people simply don't leave it at that. They feel the need to quote you millions of cheesy saying like "There is a can in cancer." You tell them you have cancer and the entire treatment period they send you photos of similar quotes and "inspiring" stories. You just wanna say "right you, simmer down."


6) The all-rounder

This is the "skitzo" of the replier, they go from one response to the other. It goes something like this:
" Oh, cancer...? So did you see that TV show, yeah? (20 mins later) I'm so sorry I was in shock!
are you going to die? (cries uncontrollably for a while) What did your parents say? What will happen now? It's okay remember there is a can in cancer."
You don't know what's coming next, you just sit there and wait for the next phase of their shock to set-in.

7) The best response

This comes from the other young people I met with cancer. I say "I have cancer" they say "aw cool, snap! Don't worry you'll be fine! Lets go binge watch friends until our chemo is over?"







So have a think, which type are you?



Until next time, Amy x


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