The business of cancer
Jewelry with “Fuck cancer” written in morse code. “Fuck cancer” socks. “Chemo Kits for the fighters, survivors, and thrivers.” And quite possibly my favorite, a hoodie with “Cancer chose the wrong bitch” on the front.
Before I was diagnosed with stage 3 rectal cancer, I never gave any thought to the business of cancer. Sure, oncologists, radiologists, surgeons, hospitals, etc. make money from cancer. What caught me off guard was how many businesses exist that cater to presents for cancer patients. Do a simple google search of “cancer kit gifts.” The number of results is mind boggling. These two made me smirk.
“Justdontsendflowers.com.” Send them all this stuff instead.
Bed Bath & Beyond touts the ideal cancer gifts proving they are too big to be human.
I get that your loved ones want to find thoughtful gifts for you. I’m in no way disrespecting that and all the fantastic gifts I received. My friends, family, and writing team at work really came through for me. They were incredibly thoughtful with their gifts, made me smile and feel loved at a dark, scary time in my life. I was just surprised to learn that so many businesses exist to fulfill that need. To profit off it. I’m not dissing them either really. That’s business. Where there’s a need, there’s money to be made. It just struck me as odd.
Personally, I found myself avoiding anything with cancer written on it. Cancer had already hijacked every part of my life. I was no longer free, bound to a calendar of endless appointments and their side effects. Everywhere I went I was given another hospital armband with my name and date of birth. Cancer owned me, but there was no way in hell I was going to wear its name as a label. I’m more than my fucking cancer.
