THE GOOD CANCER PATIENT

Every once in a while a cancer patient gets to be a celebrity.  The media need a nice, tear-jerking story and they decide to focus on cancer because it always grabs attention.  Suddenly the patient has their picture in the paper or is interviewed on television, and the various details of their diagnosis--and prognosis!--are laid out for public consumption.  If they have small children or a spouse with a disability, or have lost their job or their home, then so much the better.

I recently had a conversation with one such "cancer star" about this phenomena, and she had a perspective that surprised me.  She said, "Once you have had your story told in public, you feel as though you have to live up to the role of being a "good" cancer patient."  She had trouble giving herself permission to be angry or depressed, to argue with her doctors or to complain to her nurses.  She was afraid she would let down the people who looked to her story as a source of hope.

So much of what we see about cancer focuses these days on nobility and hope.  People are quoted as talking about the gift of cancer.  I think, though, that this this is misleading.  I remember an email I received several months ago in which the person wrote, "(Cancer) is not the mild and peaceful battle that I read about and I am trying everything to cope."

Seems to me that fighting cancer teaches you about things.  You learn lessons about priorities and relationships.  You learn to advocate for yourself.  You learn how to be selfish.  And selfless.  These are good lessons to learn, but they don't make cancer a gift.  All in all, I suspect people would prefer discovering these things through a different avenue.

So what is a "good" cancer patient?  I think it is someone who is honest.  Honest about their hopes, and their fears.  Honest about their times of peace, and their times of despair.  Honest about loving their family so much that they want to protect them from all the work and stress and anxiety that being a cancer caregiver entails.  And honest about sometimes needing absolute, unquestioning pampering.

A cancer diagnoses brings with it incredible demands and expectations.  It is nothing short of cruel for us to expect patients to play some chipper, cheery, heroic role simply to make their disease more palatable for society.

My advice to the patient who had become something of a cancer celebrity was this:  Be yourself.  If someone doesn't like it, let them have the cancer next time.

Tim