As a cancer survivor, or as I prefer to say thriver, I often used to cringe when people would look at me and say, “Boy, you’re really brave to be going through all this.”
I’d stand there, with no hair or a lop-sided wig, have dark circles under my eyes the size of plums, be feeling generally lousy and would look at them in astonishment.
“How can I be brave when all I’m doing is what I have to do to stay alive? If I don’t do this I’ll die. That’s not bravery, that’s a no-brainer!”