We have to stipulate right off that your own words of comfort and friendship somehow wouldn't suffice. Blank cards--notepaper--looseleaf--all do exist after all, and you could write your own message.
But for the purposes of discussion tonight, let's say that you're on the receiving end of a card from someone who cares about you, cares enough to send a card at any rate. What would you like it to say?
Perhaps you're already familiar with what I consider the classic cancer card, the one that starts out, "What Cancer Cannot Do." Purportedly, cancer cannot ruin friendships, undermine faith, corrode hope. (Language altered somewhat.) Well--I'm not entirely sure about that, because I've certainly seen evidence to the contrary.
Or, there's the simple but direct statement, "Fuck cancer." Well, yes, but that only gets you so far. Then what do you do the morning after?
There's a new approach making the news these past few days, a line of "empathy cards" that's received a fair amount of play in outlets like Cure Magazine, Salon, and the like. Designer Emily McDowell writes that
The most difficult part of my illness wasn’t losing my hair, or being erroneously called ‘sir’ by Starbucks baristas, or sickness from chemo. It was the loneliness and isolation I felt when many of my close friends and family members disappeared because they didn’t know what to say, or said the absolute wrong thing without realizing it.
Now, 14 years after her diagnosis of Stage 3 Hodgkin's lymphoma, and 2 years after starting her own greeting card line, McDowell feels ready to share her ideas, in the hope that they will resonate with potential customers--and their intended recipients.
I have to say that they are pretty good, and far more appealing than the syrupy sweet cards that seem to be commonplace. My particular favorite is this one: "I promise never to refer to your illness as a "journey." Unless someone takes you on a cruise."
(I'm not posting this information to promote her site or her business, so that last line I'll leave to you to find--which of course you can do easily by following one or more of the links I've already included.)
So my questions for you tonight are these:
What kind of message would you most want to read, on a card or otherwise?
What kind of message would you be interested in sending, now that you've had a more personal experience with cancer?
What larger lessons, if any, do you think could be drawn about the whole cultural dialogue related to cancer and serious illness?
If you've got another question to throw out there, please be my guest. Or any other topic, because as always this diary is also an Open Thread.
PS--Don't forget to vote in the poll for a MNCC Book Club option! Nominations still open, too.
Monday Night Cancer Club is a Daily Kos group focused on dealing with cancer, primarily for cancer survivors and caregivers, though clinicians, researchers, and others with a special interest are also welcome. Volunteer diarists post Monday evenings between 7:30-8:30 PM ET on topics related to living with cancer, which is very broadly defined to include physical, spiritual, emotional and cognitive aspects. Mindful of the controversies endemic to cancer prevention and treatment, we ask that both diarists and commenters keep an open mind regarding strategies for surviving cancer, whether based in traditional, Eastern, Western, allopathic or other medical practices. This is a club no one wants to join, in truth, and compassion will help us make it through the challenge together.