I have incurable cancer, here’s what not to say to me

Annie Bennett

Published January 15, 2025 6:30am Updated January 16, 2025 8:45am

I don’t know if it’s a cultural thing, but as life limiting illnesses go, cancer seems to be unique.

It engenders fear into many, some people not even able to call it by name, preferring euphemisms like ‘the big C’.

It inspires anger, and even aggression, and is seen as the enemy.

I was diagnosed with breast cancer in June last year and in July I was told it had spread to my bones, and is incurable. I was shocked, but, surprisingly, not distressed.

Since finding out, I have been very open with my family and friends about my diagnosis – instead of worrying about how they would react, I gave them updates throughout my journey.

They were all very supportive, and no one seemed really surprised at my upbeat reaction to my diagnosis; because, well, I’m a very upbeat and positive person.

I have received lots of amazing support, including messages saying I’ll ‘kick cancer’s butt’ and ‘f**k you cancer’. I send everyone who sends these messages my thanks, but it always leaves me puzzled: Why does cancer uniquely garner that reaction in people?

I find myself wondering why cancer causes these often extreme reactions, and other incurable diseases such as MND, Parkinson’s, and Alzheimer’s, don’t.

Annie Bennett (Credit Vicki Head) — Annie has come to the conclusion that dealing with cancer isn’t a battle – it’s a negotiation (Picture: Vicki Head)

I understand that everyone who has a cancer diagnosis will deal with it in their own way, and many will do so very differently to how I handle it, but I am finding this constant aggression towards it exhausting.

People insist on referring to dealing with cancer as a ‘battle’ – that’s hackneyed and unimaginative.

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You can find out more about Annie’s charity, The Chronicles of Hope, here.

The thing is, it’s not a battle.

A battle assumes there is a fair fight – with a winner and a loser – but there are no winners with cancer and there are certainly no losers.

And I absolutely don’t intend to ‘lose’, something I quietly remind anyone who assumes I’m up for the fight.

Annie Bennett 5 (Credit AKP Branding) — I intend to live my life and make the years I have left really count, says Annie (Picture: AKP Branding Stories)

I’ve come to the conclusion that dealing with cancer isn’t a battle – it’s a negotiation.

A tactical and strategic negotiation, carried out with the utmost respect. Yes, it’s very one sided, with cancer calling all the shots, but it’s a negotiation nevertheless.

Aggression isn’t going to stop it from doing what it does, and anger will bring us no nearer to a cure for the many and differing forms of the disease.

Despite my terminal diagnosis, I intend to live my life and make the years I have left really count.

There’s nothing of a loser or failure about me, thank you very much.

Seeing this disease as a nemesis, a super villain, really isn’t helpful.

And why do we only report someone’s death from this disease as their having ‘lost their battle with cancer’? It’s almost cheapening both the illness and the person who has died from it.

Cancer, as with all diseases, should be respected.

It holds all the power – and it is doing things to my body that I have no control over. Yes, I shall be taking medication and having treatment to keep it at bay, but I shall be doing so with a nod to the fact that it is the boss.

I’m not going to start doing reckless things in spite of it, like radically changing my diet or trying alternative medicine – I have no intention of poking the bear.

And when my time is eventually up – after what I fully intend to be at least 10 years – I plan to make it known that I do not want to be described as having ‘passed away’, or even worse, just ‘passed’.

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I know there are many reasons why people choose this word to describe death – it is gentle and less upsetting, particularly for those who were close to the deceased, but I don’t need anyone to soften the blow for me.

It took a terminal diagnosis to make me laser focussed on having a productive life. I no longer dream that ‘one day I’ll achieve this or that life goal’, because ‘one day’ may not come.

So the trips to Southeast Asia are now being planned, and the Chronicles of Hope charity to help young people struggling with the reality of ill parents or carers is now being set up. Immediate purposeful action is what I’m now all about.

I’d love my legacy to be that cancer and death is discussed more openly.