Over three decades ago, I buried the wife of my predecessor in the church that I was the pastor of at the time. This woman was a larger than life personality, with a spirituality that few could aspire to. When her cancer diagnosis became common knowledge in the congregation, she said, “I refuse to live with cancer, I live with Jesus”. Being a young pastor still figuring out a lot of things about life, I thought that was an amazing statement. She repeated this so often that that it made a deep impression on people. Of course I incorporated this statement into her memorial service, because I knew that she would want to be remembered that way.
However, when I received my own cancer diagnosis earlier this year, I knew that I could not say that. Not because I don’t live with Jesus, for I do, but because I also knew that I would HAVE to live with cancer from now on. Although at the moment I am deemed to be cancer-free, I was told by my doctors that “once you have cancer, you have cancer”. It will almost certainly return at some time. I need to be regularly monitored and checked. It is a reality that is the new normal for me.
Everyone who has cancer, lives and deals with it differently. In the case of the pastors’ wife that I referred to, the congregation was made privy to all of the details: the chemotherapy, the radiation, the loss of hair, and other side-effects: we heard all of this and more during the weekly updates that her husband gave during prayer meeting. As the end drew near, these updates became more and more difficult to hear as the church vicariously suffered with one of the pillars of the saints.
I was determined that this would not be my way of “living with cancer”. I have always been a very private person, something that has been difficult while living in the fishbowl of ministry. Just how “transparent” do we need to be? Does everything that we live through and suffer through need to be on the plate of public consumption? Even those in ministry are of different opinions on this. One household-recognition televangelist began a blog about his cancer journey, where his innermost thoughts and experiences were there on the internet for all to consume. I do not criticize such expressions; all I am saying is that this not me. I have my own way, and I don’t expect everyone to agree or even understand that.
When word about my cancer got out, people that have not been in touch with me for many years, all of a sudden wanted to visit me. Others, whom I knew but were not particularly close to wanted answers to questions like what kind of cancer? How far a long is it? Did they get it all? Will you need chemo? Others asked diplomatically (or not so) how long I have left to live.
I answered some of those questions for some people. But it was on a “need to know” basis. Of course my family, and others very close to me do know the answers to most of those questions. I told them because of our relationship and the level of our closeness.
I also posted a message on FACEBOOK in which I mentioned some of the the platitudes, religious or otherwise that I didn’t want to hear, especially from folk who all too often think they know everything.
So why am I writing all this? Because based on available statistics, every one of us either knows somebody who has or has had cancer, or will be affected by cancer at some time in our life. According to the Canadian Cancer Society,
- 206,200 new cancer diagnoses and 80,800 deaths from cancer occurred in Canada in 2017.
- Lung, colorectal, breast, and prostate cancer accounted for about half of all cancer diagnoses and deaths.
- About 1 in 2 Canadians will develop cancer in their lifetimes and 1 in 4 will die of the disease.
- 60% of Canadians diagnosed with cancer will survive at least 5 years after their diagnosis.
For you American friends, the American Cancer Society provides relevant data for the USA.
Due to medical advances made over the years, a cancer diagnosis is no longer automatically a death sentence. However early detection is essential, and in that regard I consider myself very blessed and fortunate. Mine was detected after a routine test, as I had no symptoms. Often it is too late when symptoms appear.
How do you deal with people you know who have cancer? For one thing, don’t write us off. Treat us like normal human beings, and if you don’t know what to say, don’t say anything. For example, on the Sunday before I went into the hospital for surgery, someone after church with a tearful expression pointed upwards and said, “Isn’t it nice to know where we are going?” (You can’t make this stuff up). I didn’t know what to reply, so I didn’t.
Secondly and finally for today, respect peoples’ rights to privacy. It is a difficult thing as a patient to process this type of information. If somebody needs help doing so, they will let you know. If you are particularly close to someone in this situation, then letting them know that you are available is the best thing you can do.