Right now I'm watching Bob's Burgers. It's really funny. I knew what I was going to write about but then I started getting distracted by this show because it makes me laugh while simultaneously making me extremely uncomfortable. I dunno, I think that's quite an accomplishment.
I guess it kind of leads into my topic for today (not really, but bear with me) which is something that makes me super uncomfortable on two levels. The event makes me uncomfortable, for one thing. But I am also very uncomfortable with expressing my dislike for this event because I feel like people want to crucify me and jump down my throat about it. But here we go. I'm just going to say it:
I do not like the Relay for Life.
I don't. I super super super DON'T.
NOW--hear me out before you throw your laptop or monitor or phone or tablet or any device used for viewing the internet across the room, because I know Relay for Life raises lots of money for cancer research and that many people enjoy it and feel that its a wonderful organization. And don't get me wrong, any organization that raises money for research and cancer awareness is great, and I appreciate it for that.
But let me tell you a little story. A few months after I finished my treatment, I went to a meeting for Relay for Life because my family and I wanted to give back and do something for the cancer community. We sat down, and a woman told everyone who was a cancer survivor to stand up. Several people around me who knew who I was (since apparently everyone in the CNY area heard about Jesse Pardee, Cancer Extraordinaire), stared at me expectantly, smiling, WILLING me to stand up. But I didn't want to.
It's like this: I have this jaded perception of the world around me, and I felt like I was joining some sort of freak show by standing up. Because you have to admit--no matter how you view yourself and the world around you--that when a whole bunch of people who had a deadly disease stand up in a room, a part of you goes "Ooooh, ahhh, sucks to be them." Maybe you talk that part of you away. Maybe it manifests as "wow, how horrible for them", or "oh dear, poor thing". Regardless. You do.
At this point in my recovery, I was tired of being identified by my cancer. SO the fact that the Relay meeting was asking that I stand up, thus exposing one of the most personal, raw, and f**ked up parts of my life to a room full of strangers to gawk at really irked me. AGAIN--I know that many of you are thinking "They wanted to celebrate you!" I understand where you're coming from. But you're not me, and this is my account. So shush. This is Jesse's account of things--Jesse, who had her own personal battle with cancer and is the only one who knows how she feels and thinks. Jesse, who will cease to speak in third person NOW.
It's my unique perspective. So don't freak out on me.
Then we watched a film about past accomplishments of the Relay for Life. And they were impressive. The first few times around. But the more and more things progressed, the more it felt like everyone was just giving each other a big pat on the back for...for what? And then they told us: Relay for Life, and all of its participants--were fighting cancer. No, not "fighting for a cure". Not "fighting for change", "fighting for answers", "fighting for progress"---THESE were not the terms used.
The term used was fighting cancer.
Wait. What? Who was fighting cancer?
Peeps, this is where I gotta become a crazy cancer bitch for a second, and stand up for my cancer brethren. Walking around a track for twelve hours is not "fighting cancer."
THE FOLLOWING PEOPLE FIGHT CANCER:
*The little girl in the Dora the Explorer Pajamas puking in a little pink bin fights cancer.
*The Mom who washes your wigs in the sink, conditions them, and buys wig heads and wig stands for you fights cancer.
*The girls who has a fake prom and takes pictures on the hospital staircase fights cancer.
*The boy who can't play with the neighborhood kids because he has low platelets today fights cancer.
*The woman who has her breasts removed and feels like she's been stripped of her womanhood fights cancer.
*The man who jokes around about having one testicle even though it really emasculates him and makes him feel self conscious fights cancer.
*The boyfriend who sits by your side watching Family Guy day in and day out while all of his and your friends continue on with their lives and stop inviting you places fights cancer.
*The man who chooses to stop treatment and live out the rest of his days to the fullest, fights cancer.
It's the victims. It's the caretakers. It's the people who face the disease head on--the people who have everything to lose--THEY FIGHT CANCER.
You can fight for a cure. You can fight for awareness. You can fight for progress, for research, for change...but if you don't have that disease wreaking havoc on your body, within your CLOSE loved one...you're not fighting cancer.
Maybe you disagree with me. You probably do. But that's how I feel. I fought cancer, and it was an experience that anyone who hasn't had cancer could never, ever understand.
We cancer patients don't have a lot that we'd like to brag about. Being a survivor is great, sure, but at what cost? Let us have this:
WE FIGHT CANCER.
Needless to day, after that meeting, I was really upset and angry. I cried for awhile. My family got kind of mad at me. They thought I was being totally unfair in my assumptions and I admit that I probably am. I can see why people want to do something, why people want to help. I really can. I just feel like to say you fought cancer--man you gotta really earn it. Because when you actually have cancer, you really are fighting with every fiber of your being. It's absolute hell. It's truly a personal war.
As you might have guessed I decided then that the Relay for Life wasn't for me.
Ultimately, I decided that being active wasn't for me. Not yet. I needed time to settle.
I made some appearances at the local Relay to sing the National Anthem, and to help a close family friend with cancer.
But I never stay. I could never participate. Because to me---it's a social event. A social event with disturbing posters to remind you why you're there as you chat with your friends walking around a track. Signs that offer facts about all the possible cancers that you could get. Feeling tired? Take a little break and read about throat cancer! Got a free moment? Look at this information about mouth cancer!
I will say, the ceremony is beautiful. I'll give them that.
But I dunno folks. I respect y'all for doing Relay, but I don't get it. No matter what people say, I just don't. I know people like to feel like they're giving back--but one night a year? One night a year and a video claiming "you fought cancer"? That's not fair. At the event I attended, someone said over the loudspeakers that when you're in the middle of the relay and it's four in the morning and you're tired, and want sleep...you know the struggle of a cancer patient.
Oh hell, no you don't.
I obviously don't need to reiterate my point that I don't like the Relay for Life. I respect what it's accomplished, and its intentions. But if you really wanna make a difference--if you really want to help out in the cancer community, don't walk around a track for one night a year and call it "fighting cancer."
I'm sorry folks. But it's that time of year, and it's something that really bugs me. This is my blog. These are my opinions. I hope you'll respect them, and know that these are only my personal feelings, and no mean comments or retaliatory remarks will change them. I have a right to feel this way, and you have a right to disagree. But do it on your own blog. This one's mine.
Hope I didn't gain any enemies from this post. I know many people who really love the Relay and that's fine. But I promised to be honest with this blog.
And so, ladies and gents, I give you honesty.
Jesse
Really great point! I see what you mean. I feel the same way about MDA events.
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