One of the funniest things I find about when I tell someone that I’m a cancer survivor is when they tell me how incredible I am for beating it… Clearly they didn’t know me then.
I went kicking and screaming through treatment, surgery, and recovery (at some points, quite literally). There are all the levels of grief you go through during the process, but I set up housekeeping in “blind rage” and stayed there for at least a year afterwards (think rabid pit bull).
I was lucky, not skilled… Having a great support team, an amazing surgeon that looked like Doogie Houser, and just plain dumb luck (considering how long I knew about the mass behind my knee, damn lucky is a better way of putting it).
When you see someone going through treatment, understand that they are just everyday people that are going through a life changing experience that they sure as heck didn’t ask for. I certainly was no super hero (I am now, you should see my cape), but somehow got through it all. Don’t assume they have it together, even if that is how they are acting. Survivors need friends and support, even if it’s just a hand to occasionally hold.
Be that friend.