Right now I’m sad. I’m sad and I’m angry. I’m sick and tired of my friends dying and the world not giving a shit.
Metastatic breast cancer is the biggest killer of women under 50 and people I know, personally and through social media, are dying – week in week out – of it.
But they aren’t famous. They aren’t influencers. So it feels like no-one cares.
No-one starts a petition, or a hashtag, or a movement, when these women die. No-one will when I die.
Women who are doing every single thing possible to stay alive. Taking every drug they’re told to. Being positive. Living their lives to the fullest.
AND THEY’RET STILL DYING.
WE’RE STILL DYING.
AND SOME DAYS ITS JUST TOO MUCH FOR ME TO TAKE!
It’s hard to be positive about a long life and a cure and beating the 5 year odds when people are dying all around you.
And it’d be easy for someone on the outside of cancer to ask why I’m still making friends with people with a MBC diagnosis if it’s so heartbreaking when they die, but think for a second about what that means……because having cancer is incredibly lonely. Even your closest friends on the outside of cancer can’t begin to understand what it’s like. And now, just think about the most stressful situation in your life, and think about it if you didn’t have any friends who understood what you’re going through.
So those of us, young or old, with metastatic breast cancer cling together in a common solidarity of understanding how it feels to be dying, slowly, too soon. Getting angrier and angrier, as our friends die around us. Wondering when, not if, it’s going to be our time, but also hoping for a miracle before that moment comes!
And then people wonder why I’m sad and angry and unabled to forget I have incurable cancer.