You can’t be sick, you’re fat. You don’t look like your dying. You still have hair. Oh come on, you’ve been dying for years. It can’t be that bad, it’s not like you’re dying tomorrow. At least you have a few years. Stop complaining. Others have it worse. At least you’ve lived your life.”
This is the crap crowding my (Facebook) news feed. Watching my friends hear well meaning people say insensitive things because they lack the knowledge of what they go through.
So, I ask you, are there different degrees of terminal diagnosis? Is one person who manages to live four years into a diagnosis less allowed to be afraid than someone who doesn’t get diagnosed before their cancer has metastasized to their bones, brain, liver, kidneys or another organ? Are my friends supposed to be less afraid because they managed to have positive results with certain cocktails of drugs, while others have stopped responding?