The Cancer Patient

I recently read an interview with a cancer patient who has a large following on Instagram and Twitter. She (I think she is female, though he or she makes a lot of effort to remain anonymous) is a healthcare worker who has also been a cancer patient. She is young (the interview was conducted for the website Elephants and Tea, which features stories from AYA, or Adolescent and Young Adult, cancer patients). She has had an aggressive lymphoma, twice. And she is very funny.

She goes by the same handle on Twitter and Instagram: @The CancerPatient. It's a generic name that is very fitting. She tries to write not just about her own experience, but about the kinds of experiences that many of have been through. That's why it really doesn't matter if she's male or female. The posts are universal.

Here's an example from the Instagram account:

 

(For those of you who use Translate, the image says"

Me: *fells random sharp pain*

My brain: Searching for problems... )

And from the Twitter account:

 (Again, for Translate:

"What have you learned from your experience with cancer?"

Me: Staying alive is expensive)

And notice that yellow "holding breath" emoji? That's how we all look and feel when get scans and that voice tells us to hold our breath.

I used to write a lot more about cancer humor than I do now. I still see great value in it, even if I don't share as much of it these days. I stopped doing it mostly because I was having trouble finding good cancer humor to share.

But that's why I love The Cancer patient so much. It's definitely dark humor (and a lot of it these days is about how much it costs to be a cancer patient, something that many of us deal with, especially in the United States). But the idea behind so much humor is that it is shared experience. To "get the punch line," you need to understand the joke. And even if it makes you cringe a little, and makes you uncomfortable, there's also that weird sense of belonging. Not everyone will get the "holding breath" face. We will.

(And I certainly do. A few weeks ago, I had to get an MRI for a non-cancer health issue. So much breath holding. I had to stop at one point. I was holding my breath for up to 16 seconds, resting for about 5 seconds, and then holding it again. I did that 10 times in a row. As I was stuffed into a narrow tube. And, of course, I was wearing a mask for Covid reasons. I had to stop to catch my breath. It's the kind of ridiculous experience that some people might find funny if they've been through it themselves.)

In the interview, The Cancer Patient talks a lot about community, and how surprised she was at the community she created when she started sharing cancer memes. And how important that community has become to her.

I'm not surprised. Community is such an important part of the cancer experience. Or it should be. Even if it's anonymous. Even if it's laughing at an Instagram meme or reading a blog post. Not even writing back -- just keeping it to yourself. The connection is what matters.

So if you're on Twitter or Instagram, consider checking out The Cancer Patient. Be prepared for some dark humor, but stay for the connection.

And stay well, everyone.