Implications

I am following the story of little Hannah, the ten year old with breast cancer. Her family has started a blog, and I follow it with a prayer in my heart for Hannah.
http://www.ourlittlesweetpea.com/

I have been reading comments, and I had to do a public reply for some of them.

A common thing to say to people facing a serious disease is "Just be positive, and you can beat this!" or some derivation of that statement.

On its face, this is good advice. When we approach our problems with an open heart for solutions, it helps. The way we perceive our problems can be part of our problems, and if we just mope and complain then we have extra problems, for we miss out on the sweetness when we're focused on the bitterness.

But I still hate this advice. Know why? Because it is not always possible, or appropriate, to be positive when you have a serious disease. Having someone who is in perfect health say "just chin up!" sounds like "stop whining!" Sometimes, it is even insulting. It is APPROPRIATE to cry, to rage, to ask unanswerable questions of the universe. What if I die? Am I strong enough to fight this? Why me? Those questions are painful, and to me, that is perfectly rational. Nobody says, "Hurray! I got picked for breast cancer! Please cut off my breasts and take my hair and make me feel sick and old because I just KNOW this is going to be a character building experience! I'm so grateful!" Maybe there are elements of that in our path to acceptance, but there is some negative thinking, too.

And that is OKAY.

The other part of the advice that makes me hate it? The implication is that, if positive thinking will cure me, then negative thinking will kill me. That makes me think that I'm not allowed to have doubt or fear, and I think that is down-right unreasonable. Mother Theresa had doubt (her letters were published after her death) in her faith, and she is a saint. I am NOT a saint, and I am allowed doubt. It does not make me less of a person, or less of a survivor, it makes me HUMAN. My positive thinking will not cure me any more than collapsing into tears will kill me. Both are real, and I need to be allowed to weep or rage against the unfairness sometimes, too.

I'd like to believe that I am more positive than negative, that I have confronted this disease with a little bit of grace sometimes, but I am not perfect, and I did not approach my disease perfectly, especially if "perfect" means "perfect optimism."

Yes, it hits a nerve with me.

So next time you're talking to someone with a major hurdle, encourage them, certainly. But please don't tell them that their positive attitude will save them. It didn't save me from getting breast cancer in the first place, but I don't think I brought this on myself. And if I feel doubt, or fear, or anger, it doesn't mean that I can't move on....it means that I feel grief. I bet you would, too, but I hope you never get to experience what I've experienced.