The moment of truth...

One of the most difficult things to deal with as a person going through the throws of cancer is how people speak TO you in one way, but speak ABOUT you in another. I'm not the type of person to tell someone that they have to agree with the same thoughts that I have, but I am the type of person that asks for some semblance of consistency when talking to me and when talking about me. When people talk to me, that is when we are in a conversation, the general feeling always seems to be that I will somehow and some way defeat my cancer and go on to live a long, fruitful, and otherwise normal life. There is not a single person that is even willing to recognize the possibility of death. On the other hand, when people speak about me, that is when I am not actually around, I understand that there is an altogether more somber tone to the conversation. Suddenly, the persistence of my disease, and even significantly premature death, are not only options, but inevitabilities. Not only do I have a problem with the Orwellian double-speak, but I have maybe an even bigger problem with the fact that neither things that the people are saying to me is the truth.

You see the fact is, the people around me do not know if I'm going to beat my disease, but they also do not know that I'm not going to beat my disease. For those of you joining the game late, it has pretty much been a running theme of this blog that your life can change from one second to the next. So, why does me having cancer automatically make my future predictable, moreover, what makes people think that THEY can accurately predict my future? If I live - for however long I live - it will not be because my friends and family constantly tell me that I'm going to live. The support from loved ones is an undeniable part of my ability to fight this cancer, but that's because those people are there for me. It has nothing to do with what they are or are not saying to, at, or about me.

You know, watching things on television about people suffering with cancer, or listening to the stories of people who have battled cancer, you normally hear or see very dramatized or very commercialized versions of the stories. I am not saying that to be disrespectful, but only as a matter of observance. What I have found is that the general consensus is that saying SOMETHING, even if it is the wrong thing, is better than nothing. I am sorry, but I have to thoroughly disagree with this sentiment. As a child, when your mother caught you in the act of violating one of her rules and she said "What exactly were you thinking?" it was  NOT an acceptable option to just say anything whatsoever. In fact, it was very important that you chose your words wisely, not necessarily because you had to say the perfectly right words. The important thing for your mom was that no matter what you said, you just had better make sure that you didn't flip-flop your story later on. You see the thing that your mom hated was when you told her one thing one minute, but said something different the next, because then momma knew you were full of shit. 

I find that when you don't know what you feel or that you don't know what to say, saying nothing is better than making a friend feel betrayed when you say you're confident in them one minute, but then they hear that you doubt them the next minute. The funny thing is that no one even blames people for having doubts or for second-guessing. Some days I feel like I'm going to live forever and other days I feel like I can't even make it a few more hours. So, can I really judge someone who feels absolutely certain that I will be okay one day, but has doubts the next day? I know that people are just trying to say the right things and are trying to make sure the cancer patient doesn't lose faith. To me, the number one way that the cancer patient loses faith is when people only want to be honest when they talk about him and not when they talk to him.