My latest (and perhaps last) essay about life with breast cancer went live this morning on Today/MSNBC.com. Here’s how it starts:
When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I was a wreck. I tried my best to keep it together, to keep a muzzle on my hyperactive mouth, but inevitably some highly inappropriate comment would come tumbling out.
“Would you like paper or plastic?” a grocery clerk would ask.
“I have breast cancer,” I’d answer. “They found three masses and now they’re saying the masses are tumors and that I have to have a double mastectomy. I didn’t even know how to pronounce mastectomy until this happened! Oh … uh … paper would be great.”
After awhile, though, I didn’t have to worry so much about the inappropriate things I was saying because others were coming up with their own questionable cancerspeak.
Don’t get me wrong. My friends and family (and even a few kind strangers) have been there for me 100 percent — bringing by meals and flowers and homemade pies; taking me for walks and checking in to see how my 173 doctors’ appointments went that week.
It’s just that getting sideswiped by cancer — not to mention spending all of your time thinking and talking and waiting for test results about cancer — can make a body oversensitive.
Not to mention testy.
I certainly was the first time somebody made the mistake of wishing me well on my “journey.”
My journey? I wanted to yell at them. I’ve got breast cancer. I’m not going to Acapulco!
To read the rest, click here. To share your own stories of Breast Cancer Comments Gone Wild, send me a comment!