I hate the language of cancer.
There. I’ve said it.
Not the biology. Not the diagnosis.
The language.
The slogans.
The metaphors.
The script we’re all taught to repeat when someone we love is sick.
When my sister was diagnosed, the phrases showed up quickly.
“You’re a fighter.”
“You’ve got this.”
“Kick it’s ass Julie.”
I know people meant well. But it felt wrong. To me. Julie and I spoke about it. Often.
She didn’t always feel like a warrior.
She wasn’t always going into battle.
She was going to the hospital.
She was lying still for scans.
She was being pricked by needles, in veins that always collapsed!
She was taking drugs that were horrendous.
She was telling those she loved wholeheartedly it was months, not years she had left to live. Fuck!
She hated her body after the surgery. She was constantly tired. She was throwing up from the treatment meant to save her.
She was afraid.
She was real.
“You’ve got this” — how do you say that to someone whose body is betraying them? What the feck does that even mean?
What if she knew she didn’t “have this”? Did that make her a failure?
People said she was a warrior, but she wasn’t in a fair fight, she had no ammunition, nothing to throw back.
“You’ll kick its ass” turned her illness into a fight scene — like it was just a matter of determination.
But she was already determined. She was already enduring more than most people could understand.
This wasn’t a matter of grit.
This wasn’t a competition.
And she didn’t lose.
She died.
Not because she didn’t try hard enough. WTF! Not because she wasn’t positive. Not because she wasn’t loved or brave or “strong.”
She died because cancer does that. It kills people. Or, more likely, the complications do.
And still — the language won’t stop. Edit: I have not a clue about the ‘real’ language. But surely it can’t be this?
It makes people into warriors and martyrs and mascots.
It pushes grief into metaphors.
It tidies pain into slogans.
But my sister wasn’t a story.
She wasn’t a campaign.
She was my sister. She was also a daughter, a wife and a mother and nannie.
And I miss her. We all do. Beyond explanation.
So yes — I hate the language of cancer.
Because it often fails the people it’s trying to support.
Because it keeps things comfortable for everyone else.
Because it expects the sick to reassure us.
But if I’m going to say anything — Let it be to the people still here.
To those living with cancer, or with any life-limiting illness:
I won’t call you a fighter unless you do.
I won’t tell you to stay positive.
I won’t say you’ve got this.
What I will say is:
I see you.
I see you navigating the unknown.
I see you showing up anyway — even if that means just opening your eyes.
I see you carrying more than words can express.
You don’t have to be brave all the time.
You don’t have to be anyone’s fucking inspiration.
You don’t have to pretend this isn’t hard.
You are a person.
You are allowed to be angry, afraid, numb, or full of life — all in the same minute.
You are allowed to not want to talk.
To scream.
To laugh.
To rest.
You are not a metaphor.
You are not a battle.
You are not a failure.
You are here.
And that is enough.
And I am sorry.
I’m sorry for the words that miss the mark.
I’m sorry for the silence that follows when people don’t know what to say.
I’m sorry for the cheerleading when all you needed was someone to say, “Yeah. This sucks. I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m sorry that love can’t fix it. For that…I am sorry. I wish, I so wish. x
I’m sorry that medicine can’t always save you.
But I will not look away.
I will not pretend.
I will not speak over your truth.
You matter.
Your life matters.
Your voice matters.
My sister mattered.
She still does.
And so do you.
End. I just hate the language of cancer. Don’t get me started on the ‘cancer journey’ stuff! Actually, I need to sort my thinking out there. I dunno! My grief is recent. I reserve the right to edit and amend! :-)
Julie Ann Nicholson 1969 -2025
And if I am alone in my thinking. So be it. Am I? x
Omg thankyou so true X someone said stuff yesterday that really triggered me they didn’t know. I was asking guilty for trying to protect them by not letting them see how much it upset me where I probably should have let them see and challenged them for people after me. I hate the cancer language, the beat it ,the warrior, you win the battle and are brave as to how do you feel about those who die ? Do they not win the battle? Did they fail? Not work as hard? Sorry it just Annoyed me I didn’t challenge and I felt terrible about me too after
Hi Shaz,
I don’t know. I do actually still feel the same way today, as the same day I wrote this (about 3 months after she passed). I wish Julie were here to ‘talk me down’. But she isn’t. I don’t know what the ‘other language is though’. Does that make sense? I have no words. I just know that I used to do Julie’s head in with it, my over-thinking. I really wanted ‘people’ to know that cancer language just sucks. But I have nowhere to put this. Are you okay? x