I’ve decided rather than just post a top 10 list of readers’ favorite posts, the ones they want to read again, I will be posting the most-requested pieces each day in January. I will still be writing new material; on those days two posts may go out. There is so much material here that most new readers haven’t seen, and I’d love to start the new year off by sharing some of it with them. Readers who’ve been here from the beginning tell me they welcome the opportunity to re-read some of the old work, so I’ll trust them on that since most of my pieces are short. I’ll make a list of the top pieces with hyperlinks so you will be able to easily find them in the future from the website home page.
I do say that it’s very interesting for me to go back and read these knowing that my life has taken a turn since many were written. I wrote them during/after my initial treatment for cancer. Recurrence and/or metastasis was “just” a fear. That fear was real. It motivated me to act a certain way about my health and my life. Those acts obviously weren’t enough because here I am with Stage IV. But make no mistake, the fear of metastasis bears no earthly relationship to the fear that you have when you are told you actually have it, are living with it, are dying with it. No relation at all.
I’ve thought about revising some of the pieces to reflect my new health status but decided not to. They were my truth at the time. My reality now is different, and I document it accordingly.
I’d love to hear your comments as always… It’s been truly gratifying to see how much more response there is now and your willingness to comment and share your reactions to the pieces. Thank you for supporting me in 2012 and let’s see what 2013 brings. I’ll be writing my way through it.
This is one of the most requested pieces. Yes, I really do know people who utter the words, “Cancer is a gift.” And I still am baffled by that statement. The following post, “Cancer is not a gift” was originally written in 2009 and is a response to one such person.
………………………………..
I have a friend who says that “cancer has been her gift.”
She says that it’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
That perspective doesn’t suit me. Despite being optimistic and determined, I am a realist. I see the ugly warts.
I don’t think it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me; in fact, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
A gift is something you want to share.
Something you want to give to someone else.
Something you say “Next time I need to give a special gift to show someone I care, this is what I want to give.”
Cancer is not that thing.
Language matters.
The words we use to describe illness, death, and emotion are important– we should choose them carefully.
Cancer is not a gift:
It’s what you get.
It’s what I got.
It’s a twist of fate.
A happenstance.
A piece of bad luck.
But once you’ve got it, you have to decide what you’re going to do with it.
You can’t give it away, so you might as well make the best of it.
Fortunately, some good comes with it too.
And one of the best parts is the people you will meet.
Just because you don’t think it’s the best thing,
or a good thing,
doesn’t mean you are a negative person
or a bad person
or any particular kind of person.
In fact, it may mean you are a realistic person.
It may mean you are having a bad day.
Or a good day.
Or just a day.
And you will have those days:
Good
Bad
High
Low
Carefree
Despondent
Manic
Depressed
Terrified
Numb
Grateful
Spiteful
Bewildering
Confused
Overwhelmed
Sleepwalking
Drained
Energized
Proud
Embarrassed
And everything in between.
The days are gifts.
You can celebrate the days.
You should celebrate the days.
But don’t celebrate the disease.
Don’t treat it like a prize.
You are the prize.
You are doing the work.
You get the credit.
Link to Twitter
Great post. I have heard people say this often and I think “huh?”. Thanks so much for your honest and raw writings. I look forward to the email that lets me know a new post is up.
This takes my breath away and so glad that you have chosen to share it exactly as you wrote it. Still incredibly powerful and informative.
I am always, always, reading your posts, Lisa. Cancer has changed me but you are spot on, IT IS NOT A GIFT.
If cancer is such a gift why isn’t there a return policy!
Great post and true words. Cancer isn’t a gift, it’s a nightmare, a wake up call,and a cruel thing you get. I am new to your journey. I’m healthy but my family has been touched by too much cancer. I’m humbled by your brilliant honest insight.
I love your idea of a month of your most-requested posts without changes to them. I will try to write a comment a day to honor your work.
And yes: I agree with you wholeheartedly, I have not had, and hope never to have, cancer. One person I loved deeply, and miss enormously, died from brain cancer. It wasn’t a gift to him, or his wife, or his kids, or his large circle of friends whose lives he enriched, and who want him back on this earth..
“You are the prize.
You are doing the work.
You get the credt.”
xo.
I love the idea of a comment each day for the month! Thank you.
I appreciate your bravery and honesty.
I love this Lisa. And love you even more.
Celebrate the days, not the disease. Cancer is not a gift, but it can be a catalyst. And as you said, one of the good things that comes from this is the people you meet. I would not wish cancer on anyone, but the people I have met because of my own cancer and theirs, I do have to count as blessings. The people. Not the cancer. Thanks Lisa and best wishes in 2013.
Thank you Lisa for all of your posts. This one in particular helped me stop looking for the “meaning” in my cancer. Of course I knew there really was none but it gave me permission let go of the feeling that I should be on some kind of special journey. I don’t know if I can thank you enough for that. Wishing you joy in 2013!
I’ve tried and failed many times to understand why people say “Cancer is a gift.” Now I think I get it. Language is so important, and saying “cancer is a gift” is using language imprecisely. Cancer isn’t a gift. The days are gifts, like you said. Days are *always* gifts, whether you have cancer or not. But many people don’t realize that until they feel the fear of having their days numbered. Maybe that’s what they mean by saying “cancer is a gift,” because it makes them more grateful for life. I can understand that, but still. Something in me revolts against that phrase.
I don’t think it’s a gift. It just…is.
My questions are: What kind of cancer does/did the friend have? What stage was/is it? What was the length of the treatment and how aggressive was it? Has that person lost a loved one to cancer? Cancer is NO gift. Period. If that person had to have cancer to understand the gift of life and its joys, there were other things going on there….
You have said it so well. Cancer is not a gift. I think that sometimes in dealing with serious health problems (nothing special about cancer) we come to appreciate more the precious gifts that we do have–life itself yes, and also the love of family and friends and perhaps even a greater recognition of our own internal strengths. These are true gifts–cancer most definitely is not.
Thank you for this post. I run a Breast Cancer Support Group on Facebook so I will share you posts with them.
I thought my old comments would show up so I wasn’t commenting again! Oops.
Cancer is a creepy bitch. I’m thinking that wasn’t my original comment but its what I’m thinking today.
Also this… love you (but I think that every day). 🙂
[…] While we are thinking about gratitude, I appreciate very much this powerful reminder from Lisa Boncheck Adams that you don’t have to have gratitude for cancer (or any other health struggle), because cancer is not a gift. […]
Cancer is most assuredly NOT a gift, Lisa, but you definitely are. You are clearly a wonderful gift to your beloved family & your friends, and you’re also a gift to anyone who reads your blog or follows you on twitter (I’m @jandemommy there). I learn from you & sometimes laugh at your tweets & wish every day that I could give you a gentle hug. And here I go, tearing up. But what I really wanted to say (& I hope I’m able to get my point across) is that I know there must be many people who have been dealt the shitty cancer card & who (like you) have valuable insights & advice, but for whatever reason they are unable to share their thoughts the way you are. You speak for yourself, of course, but I believe you also speak for them – and by speaking for them, you’re helping them & their loved ones. And that is truly a gift.
I was waiting for my epiphany, not wanting to squander this “gift” of the last year. I finally concluded there is none. It just happened, plain and simple. Thank you, again.
Thank you for writing this. I read your blog because you are great writer – no cancer connection.