QOL FastBlast!: Cancer Ghosting

A return to the original point of this Substack... I think? Why did I start writing again?

I’ve been writing a lot lately about my own feelings. So much so that I feel like I’ve strayed from my original stated goal of documenting all the non-medical side effects of cancer that I am aware of. I didn’t run out so don’t worry if you’re disappointed about that. THERE ARE SO MANY MORE! <sarcasm>HOORAY!</sarcasm>

OK, so here’s a big “side effect”. And it’s one that’s commonly disputed by the normies. And while I even have my doubts about it at times, I’m still pretty sure it’s a real thing. Most of the time, anyway.

It’s CANCER GHOSTING.

“Ghosting” is a concept that is common to most people living with all kinds of chronic illness.

Most people are aware of the generic form of “ghosting”. It’s basically when someone just stops responding to any communication. It’s most common among a new friendship or romantic relationship that just stops being of interest to one party so that person just disappears.

The difference between “traditional ghosting” and what it’s like when a disease such as cancer is involved is much more nuanced. For instance, this helpful graphic I found is utterly cruel when disease is involved.

Sorry @heybobbibanks, you tried and likely did help lots of people be way cooler humans, but don’t tell anyone with cancer that their situation “isn’t working for you anymore”. I’ve actually had someone tell me that before and it not only made me feel bad, but also made me wonder how such a terrible person could ever be allowed into my life. Not only did I have cancer, but apparently I also have terrible choice in friends, too.

With cancer, “ghosting” involves people in your social circle who just stop all contact, but it’s not always immediate. In fact, I’d say most cancer ghosting is done after said “patient” is finished with early critical phase treatment like surgeries, chemo, and radiation. It’s when there isn’t an instant return to “normalcy” that things get weird.

I’ve had (and I know I’m not alone in this) people who were all-in after my diagnosis bringing me food, offering rides, and, yes, even accompanying me to chemo infusions completely disappear from my life when the “fun” few months of cancer were over.

Some of the skepticism surrounding the existence of “cancer ghosting” is whether the disappearance is simply a thing that happens in life… people simply rifting apart over time as the result of other life factors like kids, jobs, etc. But nope, it’s not that. I mean maybe some of it is that (and thus my own questioning of the phenomenon) but it’s much more sudden than that. In my case, I had regularly called, texted, or emailed someone just suddenly stop responding to multiple “queries”. Folks who had previously made a point to stop by and check-in just suddenly stopped with no explanation. Not slowly drifting away, but just stopping altogether.

I also know that it’s not just “a part of aging” as I’ve had two people return to my life after an absence of a couple years tell me specifically that my cancer made them uncomfortable in many ways and they just couldn’t deal with it. Neither knew how to help, not realizing that just being there to send a stupid text or go on a short walk was all that was involved. No cancer talk necessary.

Trust me, in the early days of a diagnosis, there are enough thoughts of cancer that most will appreciate the break with a fart joke.

But both were extremely apologetic and have since become two of my closest “non-cancer” friends. I feel like I’m as much of a help to them emotionally as they are to me and that makes the nature of the friendships mean all that much more to me. Just because I have an incredibly lame disease, I am not a lame human. I have meaning, purpose, and all that. Cancer has not stolen my ability to be a good friend, too.

I can’t speak for everyone, but in my case, nearly everyone who sent a pithy card like this disappeared from my life shortly after. I honestly would’ve preferred a Weird Al greatest hits collection.

Look, I kinda get it. I'm not sure how I’d react to the realization that stuff like cancer just doesn’t go away. Well, actually I do.

About 15 years ago I had a friend named Grant who was in a terrible car accident and was left a quadriplegic. I stayed in loose contact with him for a couple years despite only being a casual friend. I figured it was the kind thing to do. I even visited him once and spent a few hours BSing with him and looking at the impressive collection of graphic novels he’d collected. But the sight of him essentially living in a hospital bed in his parents’ living room hit hard after I left. It was fucking real. While I told him and myself that I’d visit again, I never did. I felt guilt about that then, and especially after he died about a year later, but let me tell you… after living through a life changing health situation myself, what I felt then is child’s play compared to how I feel about my choices now.

A little discomfort with someone else’s lot in life stopped me from being the person I always told myself I was. I thought I was a “good” person and I’m pretty sure I mostly was, but I was definitely flawed. I couldn’t even bother to spend some time talking about some bands we both liked with a friend who just wanted a like-minded person to talk to for a bit. Grant’s look to me as I left and he asked if I’d be back again some time still haunts me. I know the two friends who returned to my life were haunted by something similar as well.

I’m sure Grant wasn’t near as upset as I have become about what I did. He was likely used to it from people much closer to him. I guess my point is that the real victims of cancer ghosting are actually those who choose to disappear. Such folks are robbing themselves of some real meaningful relationships that are mostly devoid of illness talk.

Maybe some friendships will still naturally fade over time. Just act like the person that you think you are and we can avoid all kinds of messes, ok?