It's Cancer - Normalcy

I'm sometimes forwarded articles about breast cancer such as the one I received yesterday from Kathleen. It was written by an oncology nurse who, after working with breast cancer patients, got the diagnosis herself. It was a beautifully written blog about how the nurse came to understand the feelings of cancer patients. 

In one example of what she came to understand she wrote about something that hit home with me. I've heard from so many friends since I announced I had breast cancer, yet there are still people (who I consider my friends) who have never acknowledged my diagnosis. The blogger explained this behavior very well: "You certainly couldn't blame them – you have even done the same to others when traumatic life events happened – and no you didn’t want to go out for drinks anyway because you don’t feel good. But you need normalcy." To those who haven't contacted me, it's fine to say something as simple as, “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” If you feel overwhelmed by the prospect of interacting with me it’s OK to say, “I don’t know what to say.” But when you say nothing at all or avoid me entirely, I feel abandoned and think you don’t care. This is what people need to understand.

Today I'm celebrating awkward moments. To those people who haven't contacted me, you don't have to assume the role of cheerleader, saying things such as “Don’t worry about it,” or “You’ll be fine.” I just need normalcy, which includes past friendships.