I snapped today. One of my cancer care team said “warrior” one too many times and I finally let them have it. As much as my squeaky, raw radiation laryngitis voice will let me anyway.
I hate warrior/hero/battle culture. I am not any different than any other cancer patient. It’s all suffering. We all suffer. When someone just as “strong” as me dies, what does that say for the strength of their fight? The depth of their will? Nothing. Because it’s not a fair fight. Warriors choose to go to battle, heros are heroic because they choose to go in to danger when others shirk. No one chooses cancer.
Give me the space to be weak. Just because I’m not crying in your office doesn’t mean I don’t cry in my car. Telling me Im strong because I’m “doing it all” while I’m in treatment? Ugh, it’s not strength, it’s reality. I still work because I have bills to pay. I still take care of my kids because they live in my damn house (LOL).
Cancer don’t care. My doctor should.