Cancer.. It’s what’s for dinner

Welcome to your first course on Cancer etiquette. There are certain things that Cancer patients find to be very rude when done by outsiders. Now, I am only going to specify a few of them, because let’s be honest, basically breathing near a cancer patient on chemotherapy is annoying. Chemotherapy makes patients extremely aggravated and irritable; it is a true documented side effect. Now I do have to apologize, because even though my last blog focused on Cancer not being contagious, I have threatened to give it to people who had irritated me while on chemo before. I’m not proud of it, but they seemed to be so scared that there was even the slightest possibility I figured out how to choose who to give cancer to, that they left me alone.

I can make any joke I want, you however need to be tactful. If you are not either a close friend or immediate family member of the cancer patient, be aware of playing along with the jokes. You may laugh at ours and make jokes that are variations of our own, but watch out for any cute ideas you get to go completely left field and draw eyebrows on me while I sleep that are intensely arched and make me look angry at everything you say. My jokes are funny; they have to be just for the fact that any humor I find is good humor. Your jokes are not as funny, because if you do not sit with me while I throw up then your jokes just remind me that I do that without you.

Cancer patients have a hard time with smells, sounds, light, and well, people. On chemo, one can throw up at just the mentioning of food. Let me refer you to the day a fight went on in the oncology ward between a cancer patient and a healthy person, and the healthy person almost died first. On the third day of one of my hospital stays I was just finishing up a chemo round when they decided to put another girl in the hospital room with me. It was two to a room so it was to be expected. The problem was that this girl did not have cancer. She had sprained her ankle walking and they did not have any room for her on the other floor. This girl proceeded to order food from the hospital cafeteria, and I proceeded to grimace and pull my blankets up over my nose. I was preparing for the smells, when I realized she had ordered some of the most repellent odorous food known to man: pork chops with onions, tater tots, and a milkshake. As a very aggravated cancer patient, I proceeded to sigh loudly and make fat jokes about the whale next door to me who was upset to be in the hospital for an hour because she was so fat she hurt her ankle. As the food came, she proceeded to stuff her chubby cheeks with as much as she could fit and let it roll around before it was slowly digested by her ravenous and plump belly. As an 85 pound girl who could barely turn herself in bed, I had already hatched a plan to slyly crawl under her bed, take off the safety break, and throw her out the window. I figured it was the best way for the whale to return to sea. I got sick all night off of the leftover smells lingering from her meal. To a cancer patient, we feel that you should just know that we can’t take this. There is no three strike rule, it’s just you’re out.

We do not want to know about your friend who had cancer who is totally fine now and has like three kids and is married and has had no problems after what so ever. Look, I understand that your stories are meant to be encouraging. But for every person you know who has lived from cancer, I know someone who has died. The same way that I don’t link myself to the ones who have died, I don’t want to link to the ones who have lived. Every cancer is different, every treatment is different. It makes no difference to my hope if someone with a completely different cancer and treatment is doing well. By the way, if you can’t even tell me what kind of cancer they had, chances are I will not be banking on you knowing if they have any later problems. You probably think they are fine and never have to do anything dealing with Cancer, but I know that Cancer is something that becomes a constant whether during or after. I’m guessing if that person you know decides not to tell you they still have to deal with Cancer aftermath, that you are just getting the same sugar coated version that cancer patients give to outsiders to make them feel better. Yes, that’s right; sometimes it is the cancer patient who has to make the other people feel better and less scared.

We do not want to know about any friend with cancer that you once HAD. Past tense is not encouraged. I do not want to hear any story about the friend you lost to cancer. I am sorry you lost someone, but no it doesn’t help to tell me how strong someone else you knew WAS. I am so glad that you KNEW someone with Cancer, but keep it to yourself.

By the way, just because you knew and/or heard of someone with Cancer, that does not make you an expert. You still probably know very little to nothing. I have had people tell me they understand what I am going through because they once watched a movie where the character had cancer but they were totally fine after they stayed in the hospital for a couple nights. I have also heard stories about the girl you heard about in high school that had cancer, and you were totally sympathetic for and stood up for while everyone was gossiping. I’m proud of you, but unless you can tell me a story of sitting with her at home after her chemo and holding her head back while she threw up, I’m pretty sure that you have no idea.

I do not want to hear about your cancer scare. I understand that you were really scared the other morning when you found a pimple on the side of your neck and you were sure it was a tumor but luckily it was just an overly large pimple, but do not ask me to celebrate with you that it wasn’t. I am glad you don’t have cancer, but I found a lump on my neck and it was a tumor. Want to celebrate now?

Look I understand that you are trying to be encouraging, but if I decide to open up to you and complain for a few minutes about being scared, let me. It does not help to hear you say everything will be okay or I am just over worrying. When I first found out I might have cancer, all I heard is not to worry because everything will be fine, it’s not cancer, it’s just a scare. That one didn’t work out quite so well, so hearing you tell me again that I am over worrying will only guarantee that I will not try to talk to you about it again. At this point, let me worry and at least be aware of what could happen. Your best bet is to tell me that no matter what happens you will be there with me, and together we will make it okay.

These are just a few rules of Cancer etiquette. Most of them seem reasonable and basic, and yet it is surprising how many people decide to come sit in my room with me while I get chemo, offer me a bite of their tuna fish sandwich, turn on the television, ask me to play cards instead of sleeping, assure me it only gets better, and console me with a story about their best friend’s, sister’s, baby mama’s, twice removed cousin who totally had skin cancer but now that they removed the cancerous mole she is totally fine and will lead a normal life. At that point, I will give you cancer. Don’t doubt me, I figured out how to a long time ago.