1. How can you say lucky with cancer?

Welcome!
Perhaps you are reading this blog because:
a) You are unlucky enough to have been diagnosed with some form of cancer
b) You are unlucky enough to know someone who has been diagnosed with some form of cancer
c) You think a cancer diagnosis makes people write strange things and you want to see if you are right
d) You are a pedant of the English language and connecting ‘cancer ‘to ‘lucky’ has put your semantic sensitivities on red alert.
If any of the above statements apply to you we have, sadly on all counts, something in common.

You can’t stand in the same river twice. I can’t promise to provide anything other than a first hand perspective of just one experience of being diagnosed with cancer, receiving treatment and coming out the other side. As each of us is unique, there can be no two exact diagnoses, treatments, responses, reactions and perspectives. It may look like the same river, but it aint. (Pedantic note: slang expression intended).

I will start by explaining the title: How can you say lucky with cancer?
Over the coming days I will give you some answers to this rather odd question, starting with a simple introduction:
Visit the chat-rooms of the many charities providing cancer support. Time yourself to see how long it takes before someone will tell you they are lucky. Reading about what they are going through you might, if you see yourself as the c) d) types above, wonder whether those writing have really grasped the concept of this everyday English word.
If you, like me, visit the chat rooms, for some solidarity, some inspiration, some information, some shared experience, some friendship, some sympathy, some understanding, some moaning, some despairing, some celebrating, some explaining, some getting lost in the complexities of someone’s diagnosis, some getting lost in the complexities of someone’s treatment, some reassurance, or even just something to do when all else seems pointless, you will understand the generosity with which the word ‘lucky’ is used. You’ll be moved by the humility, humbled by the bravery, stunned by people’s capacity to be forever positive and give so much hope and encouragement to others.
So luck is relative and luck is what you make of your life. When your life is not the straightforwardly relatively easy thing it was before that dreadful day of diagnosis, it suddenly becomes intensely precious, a jewel you were keeping safe in a box for a special occasion. Now there is no time to waste, take it out, wear it, admire it, flaunt it. When we have to take a close look at that wonderful gift we take for granted, involuntarily our tongues touch the roof of our mouth to form a ‘lu’ sound followed quickly by the fricative ‘ck’ and before we know it, the ‘y’ is a wagging tail to the word: lucky.