To me, the war against cancer is totally a fight

I get it. If I end up succumbing to colon cancer, I don’t want my obituary to read I “lost my battle.” It implies defeat, and whether I add to my current 16 years of remission or not, facing even one day with cancer is a victory in and of itself.

However, I don’t always avoid “war” terms when talking about cancer. I completely respect those who are sensitive to this language and don’t like it. A lot of these opinions have been shared recently in light of Senator McCain’s diagnosis. There’s also studies that discourage using battle language when describing cancer.

They’re right - there’s a technical difference between military service to our country and uncontrollably being diagnosed with a disease.

However, for me, explaining my cancer experience in terms of a “fight” or “war” is extremely empowering.

Why I Fight

In full disclosure, I work for an organization named “Fight Colorectal Cancer,” so I likely carry some bias.

When I joined the organization as an advocate and later became the Director of Communications, I quickly adopted mantras like “fight against cancer” and “storm Capitol Hill.” This language helped me rally alongside others in the community with a shared vision.

These rally cries formed not necessarily because of what we fought against, but what we fought for. Sure, technically cancer is the shared enemy. But what motivated me to blend personal and professional was not as much about the enemy as the victory in sight.

Whether I live or die, fighting cancer means I rise above it and use my story and voice for good. It means fighting for healthcare, and for patient protections. It means finding my purpose and calling, and staying focused.

Victory comes if I give this life all I’ve got. I’ll take it as a “win” if I appreciate, cherish and support my friends and family.

Fighting cancer doesn’t mean the “battle” ends if my heart stops beating. It means cancer is the suffering upon which I stand that pushes me to ultimately love deeper.

The War is On

Regardless of the words we use to describe it, there is a form of war going on. It’s against cancers… as well as all other diseases and brokenness in this world. Being human involves getting sick. When we heal one disease, another one will be right around the corner.

I don’t say this out of defeat or depression, but in full awareness of how this world works.

While there’s certainly hope and healing to be had - and I pray for it each day - I also live life with my eyes open and heart longing for a hope that extends from outside of this broken world. Cancer hasn’t taken me yet, and it might not be the cause of my death, but something will eventually lead to my passing.

This jarring thought was hard to accept but extremely freeing once I finally did. It helped me drop the anger and fear rooted in being diagnosed with a life-threatening disease.

To find the strength to do that, adopting a mentality that I’m in war, and modeling my healing after those who literally faced such a situation, was immensely helpful.

Paralleling my life to military-style programs, language and approaches helped me give myself permission to face the “front lines” of active disease and handle the after effects, loss and guilt that came with leaving them. It helped me understand how to arm up and undergo training to face the trauma cancer brings through physical and psychosocial support.

It helped me see this is tough stuff to handle, no matter how old you are and regardless of how it’s worded.

All of us thrust into a cancer experience, whether it’s personal or through a loved one, never asked for it. It’s certainly traumatic, and those of us facing it are coping the best we can.

For some, that means there’s a sensitivity around certain words used to describe cancer that needs to be recognized and honored.

But for me, seeing myself as a fighter in the war against cancer is exactly what I’ve needed to give this battle all I’ve got.