Patients, caregivers, fundraisers, and even medical professionals use a variety of different metaphors to describe life with cancer.

From day one, I’ve referred to my cancer experience as a journey. As a seasoned traveller, when I was diagnosed I felt as if I was embarking on a trip into the unknown. It’s been a long and tumultuous trip, but the metaphor is one that still works for me. Some patients, however, are bothered by it believing that a journey should always be fun and something that you have control over.

An even more controversial metaphor is the one that refers to life with cancer as a battle. Although it’s very common, many people take exception to using the vocabulary of violence at a time when patients are at their most vulnerable. Within the language of winning and losing, there’s also the uncomfortable implication that those who’ve died of cancer are losers and that maybe if we just fight hard enough we can win. While I realize that there are limitations to any metaphor, I think that the battle metaphor can be empowering. I am in a fight for my life and cancer is the enemy.

Thankfully, no one fights cancer alone and that’s also where the battle metaphor works well. My closest ally is my husband who accompanies me to every appointment and is involved in every decision regarding my care. An army of skilled medical professionals with a vast array of formidable weaponry (chemical, biological, and nuclear) at their disposal direct my care and they are backed up by a battalion of prayer warriors around the world. Ultimately, the commander in chief, the only one who knows the final outcome, is the Lord Himself. As we sang in church yesterday,

So when I fight, I’ll fight on my knees
With my hands lifted high
Oh God, the battle belongs to You
And every fear I lay at Your feet
I’ll sing through the night
Oh God, the battle belongs to You

While my life with cancer is both a journey and a battle, at times it’s also a roller coaster and that brings me to the latest news that I want to share with you. After several years of stability, things began to change about 18 months ago. The first sign that my cancer was becoming active again were some changes in lab results. Two markers that are of particular significance for neuroendocrine cancer (NETS) patients had been gradually climbing and were now flagged as being higher than the normal range. Suddenly, the roller coaster went over the top and I felt like I was falling! More frequent surveillance eventually showed significant growth to the largest tumour on my liver. That led to the Therasphere treatment that I had in March of this year. The roller coaster dropped again when a post treatment CT scan showed what appeared to be a new growth in my lower abdomen raising concerns that my cancer was spreading. In mid April I met with a new oncologist. After reviewing my case, he requested a Gallium scan (the most detailed scan for NETS) and another CT scan. Last week, I met with him again to discuss the results and the news was fantastic! First of all, the Therasphere treatment was successful in destroying the large tumour on my liver. Equally exciting was the news that what had looked like a new tumour in my abdomen was nothing more than a harmless diverticulum, a bulge in the lining of my colon! There are other tiny growths that we will need to continue to keep an eye on with regular surveillance, but those don’t appear to have changed significantly. Since my cancer is incurable, this news is about as good as it gets and I’m hoping for a smooth ride for some time to come!

So, what metaphors should you use when talking to or about a cancer patient? It is, of course, valid for a person to speak about their own illness in any way they choose and their loved ones ought to adopt the same language as a way of reflecting those experiences. Simply take your cues from the patient and you won’t go wrong.

Lyrics: Battle Belongs, Phil Wickham