Talk about a great idea! Macmillan Cancer Support is sponsoring CANCERTALK WEEK in the UK. Starting February 15th, folks are invited to share their thoughts. Using Twitter and Facebook, this cancer support group is going to get the ball rolling using a “word of the day”. The funniest responses will be shared. Cattywampus? Bumfuzzle? I’m pretty sure a lot of cancer patients will find creative ways to use these words:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/macmillancancer
On the surface, it seems rather lighthearted and fun, contrary to the seriousness of cancer and its effects on patients and their families. But the truth is that conversation shouldn’t always be heavy and dark. Cancer is a disease, but sometimes the journey is greater than the negative effects of cancer.
It’s important to look at cancer from many directions, even to have a chance to laugh about some of the more absurd experiences that arise during treatment. Laughter helps us cope. It also helps us bond. Having an opportunity to share with the entire cancer community is a good thing. Getting patients and their families to open up and speak their minds is more than just a chance to vent frustrations about cancer as a disease. It’s a chance for the world to learn more about how cancer patients and their families experience the disease. What works? What doesn’t work? What kind of support is helpful? What kind isn’t? What hurts? What helps?
Wherever you are, what ever your situation, if you have cancer or you love someone who does, why not check out the responses at Macmillan? Why not see if you can relate to the way UK cancer patients experience this disease?
If you’re hesitant to take the plunge, remember this. They are posting the funniest answers. If you’ve ever felt bumfuzzled by a doctor’s explanation of treatment, or you’ve ever found yourself cattywampused as you emerge from the dressing room after a medical exam, you owe it to yourself to fit a good chuckle into your day.
Speaking of cattywampused, my mom experienced this during radiation treatments. We would arrive for the appointments a little early. I wheeled her into the cancer center, big oxygen tank and purse in her lap. We navigated the long hallway maze to Radiology, where I would grab her a gown and take her to the dressing room. Once she was safely ensconced in the tiny cubicle, wheelchair and tank waiting outside, I would help her get dressed. She was so frail at that point in time, and the new dependence was very hard for her to accept. The only way I could cheer her up was to hum a little “stripper” tune as I removed each article of clothing. If I could get her laughing, I knew she’d be okay.
But the biggest cattywampus experience was the day my mom had her first treatment. She had unbuttoned her pants in anticipation of removing them, but the radiology technician told her it wasn’t necessary. Unfortunately, my mom forgot to re-button her pants. Wheeled into the treatment room, she was asked to stand up by Carl, the handsome, towering giant of a radiology student. Stand up, she did. The pants went down with the last remnants of my mother’s dignity. Unable to bend over to pick them up, she looked up at Carl and asked for a little help. Always the gentleman, Carl obliged. After that, he and my mother became good buddies. We learned about his mom, who worked in the UK and in Jamaica as a midwife, and whenever she came to the States for a visit, my mother was thrilled for Carl. He used to spot my mother across the waiting room when she came in for treatment, and he made a point of surprising her by popping up at her side unexpectedly. The world needs more Carls. He made cancer treatment more bearable for my mother.
FOR MORE INFORMATION, CHECK OUT MACMILLAN’S CANCERTALK WEEK PAGE ON FACEBOOK:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/event.php?eid=150785128311655