My Pet Cancer

I've been calling it "Bob" ever since we found the lump. There is no particular reason that I chose that name, and no particular reason I named it, it's just that one day Ben and I were standing around and I said, "I think I'll call it Bob," and so I did.

People seem to find it incredibly difficult to call cancer what it is, and instead of saying "I heard you have breast cancer," they'll say, "I heard you're sick."

But I'm not sick. I have cancer. There is a difference.

On the other hand, I not only have no problem saying "I have cancer," but I also seem to want to humanize it somewhat by calling it Bob. Psychologists could probably come up with dozens of reasons why I would do this, but I think it's because it makes it easier for me to consider everything in terms of fighting a unit, not a concept. I know that cancer is a bunch of cells that create tumors and is therefore a thing, but thinking of it as a single unit and calling it Bob seems, in my mind, to be a more direct thought process. I guess what I'm trying to say is that calling it Bob cuts out the large, imposing idea that the term "cancer" carries with it, all of the images, and makes it more of a thing that I can defeat.

A friend of mine was reluctant to even say "cancer" when discussing the technicalities of my cancer because, he said, he didn't want to empower it. I told him that I call it Bob and he seemed to be rather alarmed by this, but I explained to him that by naming it I was kind of making it mine, which kind of makes me feel like I have more control, even if I don't.