don’t tell me i don’t have cancer anymore or that i “just have chemo now.”
don’t tell me to go outside and get some fresh air when i can’t be in the sun.
don’t tell me that taking a shower will make me feel better when my skin hurts too much to touch.
don’t tell me that i have the “good kind of cancer” unless you’ve had it and know how “good” it is.
don’t tell me how nicely shaped my bald head is.
don’t tell me how tired you are.
don’t tell me you’ll be there for me and then not follow through.
don’t tell me your medical opinion unless you’re my oncologist.
don’t tell me how to be me, because you aren’t.