Cancer is a journey.
Some don’t like that expression.
Others hate it and want to scream.
But one person’s thoughtful metaphor can be another’s cliché.
Personally, I’m not a fan of the ‘journey’ lingo. It certainly doesn’t feel like an adventure, an expedition or a sortie.
At a stretch it might qualify as a health safari that has gone terribly wrong and we are left to roam the savanna with a surgical gown that doesn’t tie properly at the back whilst one of the Big 5 wait to pick us off.
If it is a journey then it’s the journey from hell with breakdown after breakdown, flat tyres, overheating and warning lights.
No, say some, cancer is not an oncological odyssey and even if it was, you’d have no hesitation giving it ‘zero stars’ on Trustpilot.
Cancer is a slog, that we can probably agree on and the mother of all struggles. It’s blood, sweat, vomit, tears and fears all the way. Throw poison and radiation into the mix along with the surgeons scalpel and you’ve got a living nightmare.
Okay, if it’s not a tumultuous journey then cancer is a battle.
That’s opened up the floodgates for sure.
Many absolutely despise that cancer is described as ‘a war’ and they feel revulsion to the cancer lexicon that has grown up around it especially in obituaries where someone is described as “having lost their brave fight with cancer”.
I get it. The militaristic analogy isn’t for everyone. It makes them want to curse you. It makes them angry. It makes me angry too on occasions but I do think it is very much context and treatment dependent.
So, if cancer is not a journey and it is not a battle, then what other cancer metaphor options are there?
Cancer is a many headed beast, like a Hydra.
- It’s a boxing match.
- It’s a kidnapping and a hijacking.
- It’s a teacher and a test.
- It’s a gift.
- It is a smoke that spreads.
- It is a game of Pac Man.
- It is the ultimate Bond villain.
One of the ‘classics’ is to say that cancer is a roller coaster.
I suppose this fair ground ride metaphor gets a bit closer to what cancer is with all the ups, downs, twists, turns and sheer terror. It captures the extreme and uncontrollable changes in emotional states we go through. But roller coasters are normally all done and dusted in around 60 seconds and that doesn’t even get close to what cancer is and the time toxicity we endure.
So what is cancer?
- It is the biggest and ugliest dish of inconvenience that you will ever be served.
- It is the worst picnic you’ve ever had.
- It is worst concert you’ll ever attend.
- It is the ultimate glitch in the matrix, a hole in your patchwork, a spanner in your works.
- It is the biggest invasion of personal space you’ll ever experience.
It is all of those and none of those. Why? Because my cancer is not your cancer, this is my personal narrative.
Research suggests that it is probably better for us not to get wound up about which specific metaphors are used but instead just accept that different metaphors work for different people and at different times.
We should be allowed to choose what works best for us and not worry if that offends or upsets someone else. As Irvin (2017) says, “We should do and say what works for us. Cancer ninjas, like me, should feel free to say so.”
Make any comparison that you want to! Different people in different countries with different demographic attributes including age, gender, ethnicity, religion, occupation and marital status, are likely to use and understand metaphors in various ways (Liu et al, 2024).
Besides, there are no rules about sticking with one metaphor through thick and thin. Some will fit better than others depending on the context and how you are feeling. If you want to use one over the other or use the whole lot, you are free to do so.
Here’s a question worth pondering: do you choose the metaphor or does the metaphor pick you?
We might gravitate towards a particular metaphor and select it from a menu of metaphors or it might literally be one that selects us.
Metaphors are a way to help our minds process the unprocessable, “to render the ungraspable graspable” and to illuminate complex and taboo issues.
They can serve a very useful function and influence how we see and experience cancer in terms of vulnerability and empowerment. But they can be a two-edged sword, perfect for individual expression but also capable of creating negative feelings and forces, such as stereotype and stigma (Penson et al, 2004).
There are no perfect words or fail-safe metaphors but it’s not all bad. Using metaphors can be a useful strategy to explain treatment to cancer patients (see Hianik et al, 2019).
But in relation to the actual experience of having cancer, clearly metaphors aren’t for everyone because they are imperfect.
Of course, there is another option. If mighty metaphors don’t cut the mustard then don’t use metaphors in the first place.