Cancer snob

Early in my diagnosis - when I was still struggling with hearing, let alone saying, the word "cancer" in conjunction with the words, "I have..." a friend pointed out to me that I was a snob.

"You're a cancer snob," is what she actually said to me.

"All you do is talk about your cancer, like your cancer is better than someone else's cancer.  Or like cancer makes you special.  You're a snob about having cancer."

I never thought of myself as a snob - not sure I still do.  I certainly don't think having cancer makes me better than anyone else, or makes me special.  It makes me...me, only with cancer.  It has become a part of my life, like being a mother or a student or a wife or an employee.  I talk about my cancer no more or less than I talk about school, or my wonderful husband, or my amazing children (always a favorite topic of conversation - just get me started!) or grandchildren, or my dear friends.  I talk about cooking and gardening and quilting and beadwork.  I talk about the latest novel I read, my least favorite textbook, the research paper I am writing.  Cancer is now just another topic of conversation amongst the myriad of other things I can also talk about.

As often happens, people will say, "How are you doing?" when we meet - and I often reply with something along the lines of, "Doing great, how about you?"  Even on those particularly bad days, I often say, "Every day's a good day, some days are just better than others"  I rarely say, "I'm having a really shitty day and just want to curl up in a ball and die."  I'm not being disingenuous, rather I know that most people don't want to hear the long, drawn-out details of how I'm feeling, of my physical limitations, of my pain, of my fears.  And I don't necessarily want to share those details, either.  There are a couple of friends that I actually can say those things to - they are kind and gentle and I appreciate having a should to cry on sometimes.  I try to keep so much of this to myself because I don't want my cancer to define me...but it has a way of being more than just "another part of me" - it often becomes all about me, or maybe I become all about it?  It can be hard to separate myself from this disease, when almost everything I do is, right now, related to treatment and survival and just getting through another day.

I have joked about being a cancer snob since that particularly friendly diagnosis.  I say it (always to myself, mind you) when someone says, "I know exactly how you feel," because no, you don't.  Not one of my BC friends have ever ventured to say they know exactly how I feel, even when we have the same diagnosis, when we're enduring the same treatment, with the same side effects, with the same potential outcomes, when we share the same hopes and fears and tears and frustrations and anger.  I find myself saying it (still, to myself) when someone shares their story of a cancer scare and they "know what I'm going through."  I am always genuinely grateful and happy for them that they are healthy, and not battling this beast (and I usually throw in a quick "Keep getting your check-ups" too because, well, I say that a lot these days).  So perhaps, on some level, I am a snob.

I never think it or say it when someone shares the story of losing a loved one, or of sharing this cancer battle with anyone they know or love.  Everyone has been touched, in one way or another, by cancer - big or small, simple or complex, with a multitude of outcomes.  I am never upset when someone shares the story of a friend or loved one who has passed away from cancer, even when it's breast cancer - that happens, it's part of the reality of it, it's not insensitive to tell me about these things.

I created this blog to talk about my experience.  It's a place to share my cancer journey.  So yes - I talk about my cancer, sometimes like an enemy, sometimes like a lover, always as a part of me.  I try to use this blog as a way for me to "get it off my chest" (no pun intended) so that it's not a part of my everyday conversation with ever person I meet.  I strive, every day, to not talk about this, to make my life all about living, rather than treatment or fear of dying.  I'd rather talk about how good I feel, rather than how much pain I'm in.  I'd much rather never talk about cancer again - but it's a part of my life right now, and it's an important part of my life right now.  In some ways, it is my life right now.

So maybe my friend was right - maybe I am a snob about my cancer, in some ways.  Maybe people are tired of hearing me talk about this journey, and I can appreciate and respect that.  Perhaps I need to be more sensitive to others' feelings, and work harder to not talk about this.  Maybe this blog needs to be the place where I talk about what and how I'm feeling, and if someone doesn't want to hear about it, they simply don't have to read it.

Because in the end, if I'm really going to be a snob, it's going to be about something important - like those Prada shoes.