Skip to Content

You Don’t Have to Be a Noble Cancer Patient (or Survivor)

You Don’t Have to Be a Noble Cancer Patient (or Survivor)

The first Sunday in June is National Cancer Survivors Day®, a day I’m just not that into, though a lot of folks are. I respect that, but it’s not for me. You can read why I’m not that into it here should you wish. I guess this post is how I’m marking the day. Sure, it’s a bit sarcastic — a tongue-in-cheek sort of post, though I am dead serious too.

My message for National Cancer Survivors Day®, or any day, is this: if you’ve been diagnosed with cancer, I want you to know that you do not have to be a noble cancer patient (or survivor).

No, you do not.

(By the way, ‘survivor’ is not a label I’m particularly fond of, but I’m using it in this post. You might want to read, What’s Wrong with a Survivor Label Anyway?)

What the heck am I talking about?

First of all, what do I mean by noble in this context?

‘Noble’ as defined by Merriam-Webster when used as an adjective:

Definition 1a: possessing outstanding qualities. 3a: possessing very high qualities. Definition 5: possessing, characterized by, or arising from superiority of mind or character or of ideals or morals

Maybe noble isn’t even exactly the right word. Perhaps stoic is a better fit. Basically, what I’m talking about is that there’s a high bar or expectation regarding how a person should do cancer and survivorship.

Society likes Cancer Havers to be noble or at least appear to be.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for individuals, including those with cancer, striving to live their lives with high standards. I certainly try to.

A person’s core beliefs, values and actions might make them noble (or not), not how they deal with cancer. Cancer doesn’t make a person noble, nor should it.

And yet, Cancer Havers are expected to be a noble lot. Think about it. How many times have you heard Cancer Havers described as courageous, inspirational, strong, and brave?

We’re called fighters, warriors, and heroes in our battles with the big ‘C’. Never mind that we didn’t volunteer for this battle; we were drafted.

Do draftees of any sort feel particularly noble? (I’m just asking.)

(And the obsession with war metaphors in the first place — don’t get me started.)

In addition, Cancer Havers are expected to maintain a positive attitude if not all the time, at least most of the time. Appearing strong and stoic while not complaining too much is considered gold-standard cancer behavior, is it not?

And resilient?

Yes, Cancer Havers must be that too.

So, you need a biopsy, lumpectomy or even a mastectomy — suck it up, do it, and carry on. These things are just bumps in the road. Breasts don’t define you anyway, so carving them out a bit or even getting rid of them — no big deal. You’ll be fine.

You’re resilient. You’ll bounce back.

Radiation and/or chemo on your plate too? Tough break. Sure, they’ll be hard in the moment, but one day they’ll just be distant reminders of the battle you courageously fought and won. (If only.)

You just need to be a bit more resilient, bounce back once again, and continue being — well — noble.

All this bouncing back, being resilient while remaining noble sounds exhausting, right?

And…

If you’re metastatic, oh you poor thing. You are really going to have to tow the line, maintain a stiff upper lip, take that inspirational thing up a notch or two, or three. Still, you probably should refrain from sharing too much. Instead, just remain positive. Be uplifting. Embrace the moment. Any of us could get hit by a bus tomorrow, so just go out there and live your best life.

In others words, don’t talk too much about dying and death; be a noble metastatic cancer patient too.

It’s all rather mystifying. And yes, annoying too.

There are no gold stars, extra points (or years), or ribbons (pink or otherwise) doled out to those who keep their cancer truths under raps.

Of course, you don’t get any of those things if you do speak your truths either. But you might feel less stress, less pressure and as a result, feel more heard, more empowered, more understood and therefore, better.

Again, you don’t have to be a noble cancer patient or survivor. Nor must you accomplish big things, for that matter. No need to write a blog or book, climb a mountain, run in races, start a charity, or make a bucket list — unless of course, you want to.

In other words, and as I’ve written about before, you don’t have to be an over-achieving cancer patient. Not upon diagnosis. Not during treatment and not after. And most certainly not if you’re metastatic. There is no suffering quota test you must pass either.

As I’ve said many times, cancer or no cancer: be real. Be you. It’s enough.

No need to be a noble cancer patient or survivor.

Now, as for aiming to be a noble person of high standards and moral character…

Cancer or no cancer, perhaps we can all strive to be that. Big difference.

And as for National Cancer Survivors® Day…

I’m still just not that into it.

Do you think Cancer Havers are held to a higher standard than folks with other disease regarding how to carry themselves?

Do you see a difference between aiming to be a noble Cancer Haver and a noble person, or am I way off base here ?

How do you feel about National Cancer Survivors Day® — All for it, opposed, or ambivalent?

If you like this post, why not share it?

Thank you!

A NOTE FROM NANCY: Order my new book EMERGING HERE. EMERGING is also available at most online booksellers such as: BAMIndieBoundBookshop.org, Barnes & Noble, and more.

For a sample, read the first 20 pages via my Resource Library where you can download them for FREE.

How do you even start to emerge from a cancer diagnosis, loss, the pandemic, or any trauma? #cancer #grief #petloss #pandemic #trauma #womenshealth #familyrelationships

Katie

Thursday 1st of June 2023

Thank you for this. You are right: Nothing about following instructions feels worthy of celebrating “survivorship”. The appointments and surgeries and recoveries were not TV show episodes where I was left in the woods to fend for myself. We need a new word. I’m not trying to survive; most days I’m just trying to exist. And as my surgeries and appointments wrap up, I don’t feel like I’ve survived a thing. Instead I have anxiety about *not* having a calendar full of upcoming medical appointments. I don’t feel like the before-cancer me, even though I may look it for the most part thanks to reconstructive surgeries, and I’m terrified of the return to work and “life”. What if I am sore and exhausted and not as focused? What if I crumble emotionally? How will others understand? Nothing about these anxieties feels like survivorship.

Nancy

Saturday 3rd of June 2023

Katie, It's funny, I don't mind the term survivorship, but the survivor label has always irked me. I hear you on the just trying to exist and not feeling like the before-cancer you. I hope getting back to work goes as smoothly as possible. Try to go easy on yourself and do the best you can. My best to you.

Lisa

Wednesday 10th of August 2022

I’m a what, thriver/survivor after a year of this? ONJ liked the word ‘thriver’ I read, vs. survivor. I also hate all the war referrals. My trouble is that I feel even using these terms for me is disingenuous. Yes, I had a double mastectomy due to a gene mutation that increased I’d get cancer in the other breast, but because I did the double, I didn’t need radiation and my Oncotype score was low enough to not recommend chemo. In some ways, I feel like I’m an imposter thriver/survivor. Yes both of my breasts were amputated but, I “got it so good.” I never seem to fit in any group. Few women are in my same situation. Nobel - I agree. How does that word fit?? We show up at appointments when we are told to. We take the crappy AIs and all the side effects. And take more medical tests than we ever imagined and I have a heart condition so I’ve already been doing too many tests for 10 years after that diagnosis.

Thanks Nancy for your blog and comments. I’ve shared these with my support groups and they are so happy/satisfied to read someone else feels the way they do. That gives us support and strength to keep putting o e foot in front of the other. Lisa

Wendy

Wednesday 29th of June 2022

Enough already with the war metaphors! To go into battle implies that there is choice but there's no such freedom with cancer. Pink Warriors - yuck! My bestie gushed 'you're so brave' and I had to correct her-not brave, as there's no chance of getting away from the roller-coaster of medical appointments and treatments. You have no choice but to endure it and be patient. The loss of physical and emotional privacy, the gradual loss of confidence - these cumulatively have eroded my belief in being a cancer warrior but I'm still here behind this disease.

Nancy

Tuesday 5th of July 2022

Wendy, I appreciate your insights. Thank you for sharing them. Not a warrior here either, and yeah, I'm beyond weary of the war metaphors.

Adrienne C Kushner

Thursday 30th of June 2022

@Wendy, I am definitely not brave. This time next week, I hope to wake up from my bilateral mastectomy and diep flap reconstruction. As I type this, I am starting another melt-down. I have had many since my diagnosis this May. I have had more tests and seen more doctors in the last two months than I ever had in my almost 70 years. Friends and family mean well, but sometimes I just want to scream.

Jennifer A. O'Brien

Thursday 2nd of June 2022

Well said. Thank you.

Nancy

Friday 3rd of June 2022

Jennifer, Thank you so much.

Philip

Thursday 2nd of June 2022

Great blog Nancy - thanks

Nancy

Thursday 2nd of June 2022

Philip, Thank you.