Be Glad It Isn't Cancer!

 

"They mean well," I tell myself. "Of course I am glad it isn't cancer."

"They don't know what to say," I think. "Of course I am happy it isn't cancer."

"She was just trying to help," I think.

"Oh yes, of course! Yes yes! Glad it isn't cancer!" I force myself to say with enthusiasm.

When people hear of the rheumatoid arthritis diagnosis, they seem to subconsciously rank order other conditions and illnesses and determine where this one sits in the rankings as if there is a medal stand and folks with RA don't have the twisted privilege of making it to bronze, silver, or gold status. Rheumatoid arthritis is almost certainly not as bad as some conditions and worse than others, right? 

It's as if they missed the part about chronic pain completely. Perfectly well-meaning and lovely people make statements that just really miss the empathy bullseye.

"Do you think it has to do with eating gluten? You should go gluten-free."

or

"I take these great supplements. You should try them."

or

"Oh!" they say with some kind of recognition of one of the words in the diagnosis. "My (insert friend or relative here) has arthritis in his/her (insert name of body part here)."

58 million people have arthritis. That is 24% of all adults. But less than 3 million people have rheumatoid arthritis. I don't correct them.

Arthritis hurts. I don't dispute that, but it's not the same.

And my personal favorite,

"Be glad it isn't cancer!" says someone who simply doesn't have any idea what s/he is saying.

Yes. Let's breakout the party favors! I hope we have hats with little elastic strings.

I have wondered why other comparisons aren't made.

"Hey, be glad you didn't have an amputation!" 

or

"You should be happy you don't have heart disease, the number one killer of women!"

or 

"Just be happy you don't have a rare blood disorder that will kill you and people won't even know the name."

It isn't that someone with a diagnosis wants pity, attention, sympathy, or even empathy. But at the very least, the person who just heard the diagnosis probably doesn't want the gravity of it dismissed because some nameless faceless person has a terrifying, life-threatening illness. Those two ideas aren't even comparable or related. 

Maybe the next time you hear someone else's shocking news, surprising in a way that isn't positive, maybe try these responses:

"That must have been a surprise."

or

"How do you feel about that?"

Or you could create some custom banners at Staples.com, create an evite, buy some noise makers for the, "Glad it's not cancer!" party. Dress is casual. Bring an appetizer to share...but make it gluten free.