How do you feel about the "battle" terminology used about managing a breast cancer diagnosis?

I agree with Gail. I "fight" the cancer but mainly with my attitude and caring for my body during the therapy. The terms "warrior" and "strong" don't resonate with me, although I understand where they come from. I just did the best I could, prayed, and left it in God's hands. I appreciate the support of others, but I am not a pink ribbon poster child. Breast cancer happened to me, it doesn't define me.

I found out I had Breast Cancer in June so I am fairly new to this. I have an issue with people saying keep fighting as if the people who have died from breast cancer just weren't fighting hard enough. That term just bothers me. I am doing the things I feel will help me along in my journey, to me that is fighting doesn't mean that all the other people who have died during their journey were not fighting they were doing the best they could. That's just how I feel about that term.

I am not a soldier or defence personnel. I did not choose to have this disease. I deal with it on a day to day basis, doing the best I can - as I have done all my life. It is what it is. But I get very tired of being told how strong I am - cos I am not. I am just me, and if I could get off this particular train I would, but that is not an option.

Many of you have said it well. For me, the biggest problem with warrior, fighter, etc. is that when people progress or die , the implication is that they didn’t fight hard enough. In general, I dislike all of the war/pugilistic references especially when the enemy we’re “fighting” has no known cure, just the absence of recurrence. Fighting hard has little to do with who recurs, progresses or dies as we have seen here over the years.

beekay,

We all embrace our own views and terminology. We choose not to use fighting and warrior words. We are not lessening anything and “want it or not” is not going to convince those of us who do not embrace pugilistic terms to embrace them. You give an excellent definition of warrior but there is connotation as well which can be of significance to many.

Please feel free to embrace those terms if those feel right for you but understand that others may not share your feelings.

I am still in the stunned stage. I'm taking care of my husband who has Lewy body dementia. Now this. I'm rather numb. I'm the one who does everything in the family, Paying bills, organizing appointments, all the driving. Luckily, my daughter helps me with some of the more laborious tasks like laundry but doesn't drive yet and has a chronic condition herself. No time to cry about what nature has handed me. Waiting for oncotype results to see if I will need chemo as well as radiation. Which I will be driving myself to. Imagine having a husband who stares all day and can't provide any emotional support. At least he is still continent. Apparently, I have the highly treatable type of cancer, so count myself lucky. Trying to maintain a positive attitude. And take care of my health and that of my husband. I'm sending healing thoughts to all.

I feel more like a swimmer. I’m going to keep swimming as long as I can. Sometimes I feel tired and I need to rest. Sometimes the water is fine and everything is moving well. I can appreciate my will to keep trying and moving until I can’t. I know that things beyond control affect me. The water may be too hot or too cold. It can become contaminated. Those external factors may result in my body being unable to keep going. If I stop swimming, I haven’t failed or lost a battle, fight, or war. If there is a “war” analogy, it’s more like I’m a low ranking soldier. I “soldier on” but most factors that may stop my march are beyond my control. I do think going through treatment and beyond takes effort that those without cancer can’t fully appreciate. I also know there are many living with neurodegenerative conditions, treatment resistant mental illnesses, and other life tragedies that have experiences that I can only imagine.

My biggest gripe about the battle analogy is the implication that if we don’t survive it’s because we gave up a fight. Or we weren’t “enough” of a fighter. However, if feeling like a warrior or fighter is helpful to a person, I fully support them. For me, being aware that what I can control is limited is what makes me able to live without thinking of cancer all day and every day. And I’m very happy for these years and months now when that’s possible.