The Problem with the Cancer Warrior Metaphor. Or, more aptly: my crusade for sweatpants appreciation

Some days, I'm a bad cancer patient.

Some days I can't stomach the thought of doing, erm, anything. Unless it involves eating ice cream in bed. With someone else bringing it to me.

Some days I can't be bothered to put the laundry away. Or to force my strong-willed toddler to eat spaghetti with a fork instead of her hands. Or to read a book, even. I just want to lay on the couch and let myself feel tired and cranky because, um, hello? I have cancer.

So let me.

I'm not supposed to say these things. What I'm supposed to do is throw back some organic plant-based fuel, strap on my running shoes, and parrot a litany of positive platitudes. With cancer patients, it's always: fight, fight, fight! Stay positive! Get dressed every morning, even when you don't feel like it! Go for a walk! Get pumped, eat leafy greens, be a survivor dammit!

There is all this, let's face it, useless rhetoric swirling around cancer patients, pressuring them to beat their disease. To "rise above it," to "kick its arse!" to "believe/will/push themselves back into a proper state of health."

The problem with this mentality is that it assumes the people who've "succumbed" to cancer were just lazy twits who didn't care enough to fight. Which is so beyond bogus. 

There's a very weird and very shitty pressure to always "be the best cancer patient you can be!" Tied to this is the ever-present implication that, in order to be cured, cancer patients must actively remain in combat mode. A fighter's stance and a positive attitude are all you need to make the magic happen. 

Right, so I guess what we need to do is become fearless fighting machine ninjas. Who smile all the time.

I also  think that, to some degree, people can delude themselves into thinking that they've earned some sort of gold medal of health by NOT getting cancer. There's a touch of arrogance tied up in it. They think: of course, I'd never get cancer. I use coconut oil. I run marathons. Nitrates? GOOD GOD, NEVER! 

They think: those poor people who got cancer. It's not their fault...not really. BUUUUT, MAAAAYBE if they just drank less beer or ate less sugar. Who knows. They might change things around and actually CURE themselves.

Bravo, dude. I did all those healthy things, too. Well, not running marathons. Only crazy people do that. But I ate veggies and shopped at farmers' markets and exercised and never touched white bread.

I don't think it's intentional at all, and it's actually quite subtle, but I've noticed (not often, thankfully) this condescending air towards patients who are clearly "failing" at having cancer. There's this grossly oversimplified approach to health floating around that can unfairly place the blame of a cancer diagnosis in the hands of the patient.

I see it in unwitting Facebook posts about how 15 minutes of daily meditation are all you need to reduce your cancer risk. I hear it in conversations about how so-and-so had stage 1 melanoma and she ran everyday and look at her now: in full remission! That one just makes me laugh. Because I will NEVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES BECOME A RUNNER.

If you have cancer (or a physical ailment of any kind) I'm giving you full permission to tell those people to go to Hades. 

Be a grouch for a day. Sleep in, watch garbage on TV for 9 hours straight. Skip yoga! Go nuts, open that sugar bowl, and suck it through a straw (side note: I kid you not, I have memories of my sister and me doing this...sitting covertly on the kitchen counter with the glass sugar bowl between us and sucking it up THROUGH STRAWS. Maybe that explains the cancer. It's not an altogether off-base theory.)

Look - I'm not writing off people who live healthy lifestyles. Hooray for them. And mostly, sure, they're not all in your face about it. There's nothing wrong, per se, with having a good attitude. With being positive. Obviously, I think it's important to be active, to eat healthy, to exercise. Go ahead and throw in some essential oils and meditation while you're at it. I'm all for those, too.

But I'm also for staying in my pajamas until 5 pm if that's what I flipping want to do. Because - and I hope I'm not bursting anyone's bubble here - putting on trousers and lipstick every morning is most definitely NOT going to cure me of stage 3 breast cancer. Even if it's the most terrific shade of berry pink that actually matches my chalky chemo-skin.