6 Shitty Questions in 6 Shitty Months (Original Post 04/11/16)

Here are a list of 6 things that people have asked or said to me in the last 6 months that have made me want turn into the Hulk and smash shit recklessly and without abandon.*

  1. “If I were you I would…” Well you’re not me bitch so shut it. You’re not actually in this position dealing with cancer and all the shitty effects of treatment so it’s easy to say what you WOULD do when you don’t actually have to do it. (See my previous post titled That’s What You Would Do? GFYS for detailed clarification on why this one will set me off.)
  2. “How are you feeling?” Like fucking shit. I have fucking cancer. Dumb question but, I know that you’re trying to be nice so, I’ll answer generically. I’ll say something about how I’m OK blah blah while secretly thinking this is the dumbest question to ask someone who has a serious illness that is widely known to make people feel like dog shit. A much better way to be nice is to ask, “How are you doing?” It’s more general and implies you are concerned about my life as a whole and not just wanting to know how shitty I happen to be feeling at that moment.
  3. “My neighbor/friend/sister/mother died from breast cancer.” Wow. Thanks. Didn’t I just tell you that I was diagnosed with breast cancer? Way to really pump me up for the fight ahead! But, I know that you’re just trying to, again, be nice and relate. Let’s face it, who out there doesn’t know someone that has been effected by breast cancer specifically, let alone cancer as a whole. I get it but, what you don’t get is basically you’re reminding me that I have a rough, shitty, horrible battle ahead of me that yep, I could die from. I get it. I COULD DIE! You really don’t need to remind me of that in any way. Want to relate? Sure, tell me how your friend had breast cancer, just leave out the part about her dying. Unless I specifically ask, “How is she?” because then I’m asking for it. But, I won’t because I’m afraid to hear, “She died.”
  4. “Oh, you shouldn’t get XYZ. You need to talk to your doctor about ABC. It’s so much better. XYZ will totally mess you up. Oh and have you thought about that new LMNOP pill?” Thank you. Also, when did you get your PhD in Oncology? My invitation to your graduation from medical school must have gotten lost in the mail. I know, you are trying to help. You have heard about about a new drug, procedure, herb, chant that is so much better than the nasty chemo, radiation and surgeries that the doctors are currently peddling for billions in profit. I get that you are genuinely concerned and want to make sure that I have the best care with every option imaginable. Just don’t think for a hot second that I haven’t researched my illness and all the possible treatments. Your approach to the subject comes off pushy and frankly adds more anxiety than help most of the time. I already question every decision and every step of this exhausting treatment. You telling me that possibly one decision that I have already made is bad or wrong adds more angst to an already shitty situation. Ask about the treatment plan the doctors are recommending. Ask about what options they have offered me. Ask about what decisions I have already made before trampling into my personal health choices and taking your katana like words and slicing them to shreds as if you were playing Fruit Ninja.
  5. “Are you super sad out about losing your hair?” No. I always dreamed of looking like fucking Powder. Of course I’m sad asshat. At least the hair loss is temporary.
  6. “Are you excited to get new boobs?!” Are you fucking kidding me? No. I am not excited about undergoing major invasive surgery that results in a long recovery with possibilities of countless complications to amputate the two parts of me that I have never had a problem with (like my frizzy hair or my flabby gut or my flat ass) and that I considered to be my most feminine feature. I never wanted plastic surgery to enhance them and I sure as shit never wanted to get rid of them. But the fuckers attempted to murder me so, they had to go. This is not a matter to be “excited” about. With that said, the new ones will probably be a little bigger. As the Sailor says, “Go big or go home.”

So there you have it. The 6 things that have been said to me (more times than I can count) in the last 6 months that pushed the red angry button in my brain. Maybe I’m just being sensitive. Maybe I’m just a bitch. Maybe people just need to think a split second before say things on a topic so personal and scary.

*If upon reading this you find that you have been the deliverer of aforementioned statements to me, worry not! I don’t hold a grudge. And I have chemo brain so chances are I don’t exactly remember who said the words that induced the previous rant. We don’t even have to speak of this again. Truthfully, I prefer not to. Let’s move on and find new ways to irritate each other, shall we?

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