My list of the top things people should not say to cancer patients (some pinched from elsewhere ‘cos I can totally relate!) ~ what next
The other day Colon Club member what next wrote a post called “the stupid things that people say” and included a very good list of stupid comments and witty responses. And I enjoyed it so much that I’m stealing it. 🙂
I find I do get annoyed with the constant platitudes. So sue me. I’ve lost quite a few “friends” this past year and a half because they felt uneasy about my way of coping and especially about my not needing or wanting what they felt like giving me. I know that some of you will say that people mean well and are often just at a loss as to what to say. But frankly, the best thing to say in this sort of situation is … “oh dear, I don’t know what to say!” To which the person with cancer can simply reply… “That’s okay, you don’t have to say anything”. Or in my case, “That’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, just send money”. 😉
You can read what next’s list below…
- Sure, you might die but I could step off a kerb and get hit by a bus. Umm, ok I guess there might be a parallel – if you know which street kerb you’ll be stepping off and you’ve got the date, time and number of the bus. Oh, and the bus backs over you for good measure.
- You have to think positively. Why, am I gonna die if I don’t act like Tigger on prozac all the time?? Do ya think all the people who die are the one’s who don’t think positively? I am positive I have cancer. I am equally positive this is not a good thing.
- Oh, I know someone who died from that type of cancer. Thanks for that, you made me feel so much better.
- God gives you what you can handle. I could have handled winning the lottery too.
- What’s your prognosis? If I’m around in 10 years, I’ll let you know.
- If anyone can beat it it’s you. Yep, all along the cure to cancer is being myself! Sucks to everyone else, you’re all doomed.
- It’s not your time to go. Then why bother with the surgery and treatment?
- Life is not fair. Thanks for the heads up.
- God has a plan for you. …but He didn’t quite get around to making one for all those poor suckers who have died from cancer, huh?
- Every cloud has a silver lining. Feel free to elaborate on that, I sure can’t see anything good about being diagnosed with a life threatening disease that is highly likely to kill me and will at the very least leave me with permanent scars and side effects and a high risk of recurrence in the future.
- It’s just a bump in the road. Living with a cancer diagnoses, getting chemo, radiation, dealing with the multitude of side effects, gaining weight, having hot flashes, being depressed and anxious is not a bump in the road it’s a major mountain.
- Lance beat cancer… and I am going to beat you over the head with the hard copy edition of It’s Not About The Bike….
- [After the final round of chemo] Just think, you’re done. Done? I’m done?…I guess I’m done with cancer everyone. Nothing left to do. Umm, how about all the side effects and worrying for the rest of my life about recurrence?
- So, is it the bad kind of cancer? No, I have the good kind.
- This is a treatable disease. Oh sure. Chemo, surgery, more chemo, radiotherapy. No sweat.
- How do you know if it’s working? If it doesn’t work, I end up 6 feet under. That’s how.
- You’ll be fine, you have a great attitude. If attitude really matters then why did I get cancer in the first place? Or does attitude only matter after you get cancer? Right now my attitude about cancer is lousy. What does that mean?
- If you really want to live, you will. Just never give up. When people give up, they die. Finally, the real explanation for cancer survival rates! For example, why have cancer survival rates gone up over time? Because more people who get cancer really want to live! Why does the US have slightly better survival stats than say Europe and Canada? Because as everyone knows, Canadians and Europeans are more prone to giving up, right?
casa azahar 
Great list!
The bulk of that shite is annoying at the best of times…that said, I do like a personal philosophy of looking for the silver lining. But I can see how that would be hair-wrenching to someone dealing with their diagnosis/treatment/etc.
How ’bout “Don’t stop blogging!”
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Heh, I’ll stop blogging when you take this laptop from my cold dead hands … erm, cold dead lap?
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I was listening to an interview on the CBC with the author of “Bright-Sided: How The Relentless Promotion of Positive Thinking Has Undermined America”, Barbara Ehrenreich.
I didn’t agree with her blanket dismissal of anything to do with positive thinking but I had to agree with much of what she said.
I certainly think you will concur about her thoughts on what she has to say about her experience with cancer and the “positive thinking” brigades”.
You can listen to the show, here: http://www.cbc.ca/thecurrent/2009/200910/20091015.html
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Cancer & depression: very similar in terms of what people think of to say to you. Good God…
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LOL, Az — you borrowed the list before I could!
I do still like my answer to evangelical positivity – ‘I’m positive that Stage IV cancer isn’t a good thing…’
BTW, I do like what you’ve done with the place! 😉
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I don’t know why “the stupid things people say” turned up in my incoming links but I was nervous clicking on this, wondering what stupid thing that was. Definitely not number 4 or anything to do with Lance.
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A lot of this sounds familiar to me, from when the Golfer was diagnosed. We too got a copy of Lance Armstrong’s autobiography within days of him being diagnosed, complete with yellow wristbands to wear. As my husband had been diagnosed with terminal cancer, we found it a little hard to take. On the other hand, the donor had no idea of our bad prognosis and had herself recently ‘defeated’ cancer, so we knew it was meant well.
Worse for me was when I went into our local Maggie’s centre (great places where cancer patients and their families can go for support, information and a chat) and got quite tearful about my husband’s situation – terminal diagnosis, 3-6 months to live and the trainee support helper (let’s hope she improved once her training was over) said breezily that she was sure there was hope and that I should be positive. All I wanted was a safe place where I could face the truth but instead I had to pack away my feelings again and pretend everything was okay.
As for the ‘God has a plan’ line, I had a different version of that after he died. My young, bright female bank clerk said, on hearing that I was now widowed, said that she believed that everything happened for a reason. I couldn’t let this go and said “so you think my husband died so that I could learn a valuable life lesson?” I felt sorry for her but this particular piece of tosh was more than body and spirit could take.
I think you should write a book, az, of all the stupid things people have said to you and then a very small appendix of the really useful things people could say – I’d buy a copy!
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Occasionally a client of mine tells me that they’ve had a cancer diagnosed and I fear my tendency is to, from the depths of my chitlins, exclaim FUCK!!!! I think that’s supposed to be unprofessional but it seems to have struck a chord.
People say this crap because a person who’s been introduced to Death, hiya, pleasedtameetya, brings on thoughts they don’t want to have or handle, and they want to run away and say no, really, it wasn’t that it was just the postman knocking. Tim Leary, who spent his last years in treatment for invasive prostate cancer, said something like “I refuse to put up with this attitude that the person who has a serious or terminal diagnosis is a walking bummer.” Whatever anyone thinks of Leary, I loved him for that.
One of my clients has MS and has chosen not to explain it to her co-workers, accounting for her uncertain gait with some sort of inner ear syndrome or whatever, because she said “I don’t want to have to take care of their feelings, I have enough to do with my own.”
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Bloody hell, do people really say all that crap to people with cancer? Its bad enough being told to ‘just think positive’ or ‘count your blessings’ (another of my all-time faves right there) when you have depression, let alone a life-threatening cancer diagnosis.
We’re not good, as a culture, at confronting death. We avoid it and pretend it won’t happen if we eat the right things, do the right things, think the right things. But it will happen, to us all – and for some of us it will be too soon and too painful and too scary.
Being made to feel as though one’s fear and anger and frustration about a cancer diagnosis are somehow wrong – inconvenient for other people, mainly – is an outrage.
Maybe you need to get some cards printed up, with a nice message like:
I know you’re trying to help, but you’re not helping. So please shut up. Thank you.
🙂
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I think Gaelen said it best on the Colon Club forum when she wrote:
Puddock, I’m surprised a support worker at Maggie’s would behave so inappropriately. You’d think they’d be sure not to let trainees loose like that until they’d learned some of the basics. Glad you spoke up to the bank clerk. If nobody does then how will people ever learn?
Doesn’t sound unprofessional at all, Sled. When my friend Becky told me awhile ago that her breast cancer had come back my first response was something like “Oh shit! I am so sorry!”, and then I asked her how she was feeling about it, what the prognosis was, etc. I think the first honest reaction in most people would be similar. Some sort of “oh no!” thing. And really, that would be okay to express. You know, just a simple “Oh no! Now what?” and let the person with cancer take it from there – if they want to – while you just shut up and listen. And if the person doesn’t feel like talking then a genuine “let me know if there is anything I can do” would be the best follow-up. But ONLY if it’s genuine because it’s extremely hurtful to promise help to someone in that situation and then bail, which has happened to me.
Hmmm… maybe I should write that book, Puddock. Well, me and Gaelen.
And also get some of those cards, woo. Though by now most people already know what’s going on. For people I’m meeting now, telling them I’m in remission from cancer is somehow easier for them to hear and respond to. Or at least they don’t look at me like I’m dead woman walking.
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I’m a cynical bitch, I guess dealing with death in its various forms – maybe not always the most traumatic ones – on a daily basis most of my 30+ years of work has contributed to this. I find it very hard to be cheerful and.. well… comforting… when someone tell me they’ve been diagnosed with a widespread malignancy. I deal with it more matter of factly – like “What’s next? How do you feel about that?” if that make things awkward, well then I walk away.
There are few things in life you can be sure of. I’ve learned that over the years. The only thing I know for sure is that I will die, I don’t know when and that goes for all my fellow human beings as well.
Some people claim there is always hope and there is always something new to try. Presently an close relative of mine is undergoing a rather experimental treatment against a widespread malignancy where all other treatments have failed, or at least not cured them. But what these treatments do are making my relative’s days less painful and hopefully will give them some better time with their family. The fact that the family is feeling well taken care of is also good. But the relative will most likely not be cured, but maybe other people with similar disease will gain from the knowledge learned from this experimental treatment.
However, sometimes it can be hard to handle your own knowledge and still be supportive.
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Ah, but you are the voice of reason, dq. Because dealing with the practical side of things is pretty much all we can do.
I’m not religious, so I have to take the offer of people’s prayers in the way they were intended, but I do sometimes wish people wouldn’t shove their religion at me when I’m 1.) not interested and 2.) don’t get any comfort at all from that whole thing.
I find it egocentric in the extreme to even consider thinking that if there were such a thing as an all-powerful god “up there” running things that he/she would actually spend time making PLANS for me. I mean, yeah, I understand people’s need for a higher power and all that. Or rather, I understand that many people seem to need this. I don’t need this. I give my life meaning by making things meaningful to me. I’ve made this whole cancer experience meaningful by trying to learn as much as I can from it. My very first response after hearing the diagnosis wasn’t “why me?”, it was “okay, now what?”. I wanted to know what I cold do about it, and what was in store for me. I can’t help but feel that when religious people try to tell me that their personal god-concept had a Plan for me that it cheapens all that I have been through. Remember: Religious beliefs only comfort those who believe in them. Which isn’t me.
As for thinking positively … of course it can help, but it’s not going to cure your cancer. Likewise, if you are convinced you are going to die this might hasten you to your end, but it would probably depend on how stressed you got about it. Happy endorphins can only do you good, and can also help you to do more positive things for yourself like eat well and take regular exercise. But again, if thinking happy thoughts actually cured cancer then I’m sure someone would have snatched up a Nobel Prize for this already.
I’m scared. Almost all of the time. I don’t usually act scared (except when I have to go to the hospital) and I don’t dwell on feeling scared … but it’s there! Almost all the time. And I’m trying to learn something from this fear, while I still can. Because since I got sick with cancer I have set myself only one personal goal – that I do not want to die afraid.
Wish me luck!
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Hearing that you’re scared makes me thinks two things.
First of all, I don’t know what to say – and secondly, I wish I could get over there right now and give you a hug.
Oh – and there’s a third – Good Luck.
*snibs
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All perfect things to say, Foolish Woman.
Hey, do I know you? I don’t recognise the name or the email address.
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Hello my name is kelli i am a 29 yr old with colon cancer and I love this list.
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HiKelli
This list is perfect. It really made me laugh. We all need to laugh more. I am glad you are reaching out.
Love SVB
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OH.MY.GOD. I had to step away from my laptop and compose myself before coming back and writing – no one has made me laugh so damn hard in YEARS. It’s not mocking laughter, mind you: I lost my Mom to this beast, but the “punch” your responses had to the completely stupid (and sometimes insensitive) things that people tell you is just plain superb (& believe me, I heard stupid and then I heard mean, from John Doe to the very doctors “caring” for my Mom). Thank you so much. I have not read your blog (came across this entry researching something) but I’m assuming you’re a patient (sorry, I don’t know how else to put it and I still can’t bring myself to say the C word because to me it’s like touching someone with it & it’s the last thing I want to do because I’ve seen enough). If I’m right, please accept a hug from me (I know, I’ve ALWAYS been the corny one) and my friendship, although I’m not sure what I can do in virtual space. Now I’m going to shut up before I become a contributor to the list… <:)
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Wow, nice to see so many new people here – welcome!
Those weren’t my responses, Marie. It’s a list I swiped from a forum about colon cancer. But yes, very funny. I think my favourite response is the pithy reply to “Life is not fair”. 🙂
Sorry to hear about your mother. Yeah, I’m stage IV, currently in remission. Thanks for the virtual hug and I hope you stick around. It’s not all about cancer here.
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I too am suffering a dreaded illness, it isn’t something I talk about with people, but the reactions you get are no different to what people with other illnesses get, and they really suck, but I love the responses people were giving. Sometimes I wish I could actually use some of these responses with well meaning people, but then I’d upset them, and they are well meaning so does my anger or frustration justify the feelings they’d have afterward.
The thing that annoys me the most though is the people who won’t accept my decision to live my life with dignity and not fight this the way my doctors and specialists want me to. I don’t have cancer, the disease I have is a brain illness that will eventually waste away my muscles, but unfortunately the only meds avail at present are the type that prevent the brain from getting excited, similar to epilepsy meds, and frankly I don’t want to live my life that way. But people always find it necessary to do their own research, and find some medication or procedure they think I should consider. For heaven’s sake, I live with this damned thing every day, I’m accutely aware I have it, there are days I can barely walk or my muscles spasm so much I swear they’re going to snap my spinal cord, do they think I don’t know what the latest therapies are?
Anyway, the upshot is that I endure my illness alone because I can’t trust my nearest and dearest to let me LIVE my life and ENJOY my time, and I can’t trust them to honour my request that when the time comes, I don’t want to be resuscitated. Consequently I moved away, I’m living in a strange country far away from the people who should be around me, but I’m happier for it. As for them, well, I hope they’ll forgive me when I’m no longer the person they remember, but they need to understand I don’t believe in heaven or hell, I don’t want to live another few years if it means not being myself, I’d rather go out with a bang and fireworks, and on my terms.
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Andy,
I honor your guts. Disease threatens a person’s human dignity and our freedom to be who we are, and it makes me furious when the people who should be helping compound that felony. For all the talk about “free choice” in health care currently going on in America, people rarely discuss the choice to walk away from “treatment” that promises to do little but use up the time and energy you have left. I wish I could send your comment around the world so that every well-meaning helpnik and controlling, infantilizing “healthcare provider” could read and ponder it.
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I didn’t realise I’d subscribed to these comments, so I got your comment in my email, and I feel ashamed to say I burst into tears. When I read this article I was laughing so hard, then I read all the comments and got angry, and just thumped away at my keyboard without thinking. Now I’m in tears, what a rollercoaster ride of emotions one article can generate. Almost like going through all the stages of denial all over again, but wrong way round.
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Aw, man, I didn’t want to make you cry. More of a thumbs up to you for integrity, and a thanks for putting it out there for other people to understand.
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Andy, I’m so sorry to hear about your illness. If I’d known you had brain issues I never would have blocked you the other day! (okay, now we’re even. 😉 ).
But seriously, Andy … what Sled said. Where is the respect and dignity when it comes to dealing with a life-threatening illness and the only people around are those wanting to impose their own narrow-minded concept of what Life is.
I’ve said here before that I’m not sure if I would be able to make myself go through chemo again, in the case of another recurrence. If it were to come to that, anyone who tried to make me feel bad about my decision would be invited to please f*ck off and get away from me. I mean what – do some idiots actually believe this sort of decision is taken lightly? Anyhow…
I’m really glad you came over here and let me and others know about what’s going on. You can trust that I’m not going to ever be one of those who is afraid of what you are going through, nor will I ever impose any “what I think is best” crap on you. And you can also count on support from my friends here, because they are really the best.
But I hear you about family. Mine offered their prayers. And nothing else.
Just wondering, is there any “right way”” to go through the stages of denial? I am all over the place myself, and sometimes leave a mess. But not even considering my imminent death tends to work for me. Except at 3 in the morning.
And please never feel ashamed for bursting into tears. You’ll have to come down from the mountain soon and spend a couple of days in Sevilla, okay?
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I don’t want to talk about family. But it can’t be avoided can it? They say (whoever ‘they’ are) that blood is thicker than water; not so. The people I most value spending time with are the people who let me be myself, warts and all. They are the people who accept I’m just human, I don’t have all the answers, and I get scared. Look I’m not a hero, I’m nothing special, I didn’t do anything to deserve what I’ve got, and having it doesn’t make me a rolemodel. Frankly, as you’ve already discovered, I can be quite stupid, I make some glaring mistakes that piss people off.
Yet the only way I ever get treated as a regular guy is when I don’t talk about my problems. If I do mention them I get WAY too much sympathy, it’s stifling; or I get that feeling they need to quickly exit stage left; or things are cool, but they never call again. People think if I don’t want to see a specialist I must be suicidal, or maybe I’m making everything up, or maybe it’s already gone terminal and nothing more can be done. But really all I’m doing is making a decision to give doctors a miss. I’m not a guinea pig, and I hate that every time I saw my neurospecialist there’d be some new treatment that needed to be tried.
I don’t care about him or her getting a free trip from the pharmaceutical company. I really don’t care about them writing a paper that might help other people in the future, other people can look after themselves. And I really don’t want my name on a wall for being a good sport after all is said and done. What I want is to have some friends, to keep earning enough money to travel, and see the world.
I’ve only been to Sevilla once, I really need to make another trip… maybe soon.
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This was depressing. And I know I’m late to the part but writing is a great form of release.
Now shamefully, I plug: I’ve just started a blog and the first post is about a more light-hearted look at the “Stupid Things People Say”. If you want, go check it at https://mropine.wordpress.com/
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I was diagnosed last year with stage 3 cancer. people gave said the stupidest things. what need is for u to just listen and be there. ifyou r struggling for something to say just stick with ‘i love you’. it goes a long way.
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Hi Jeremy, and welcome.
Sorry to hear about your stage 3, and that you’ve been having to deal with people who upset you by saying stupid things. But you’re right. A simple ‘I love you’ does go a long way.
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