Each week, exclusively for Slate Plus members, Prudie discusses a new letter with a fellow Slate colleague. Have a question for Prudie? Submit it here.
Dear Prudence,
By the grace of G-d, my daughter survived breast cancer. However, instead of making her value her life and body more, the experience has made her hedonistic!
The woman who used to practice yoga, jog, and not keep red meat or chips in the house, is now drinking a glass of wine more nights than not and spending her days off binging shows and movies. Her logic is, she was healthy before and still developed cancer, why not indulge? I’ve shared with her that alcohol is carcinogenic, and studies have shown that healthy diets and exercise make a significant difference in cancer survival, but she keeps saying that it’s her choice. She even kicked me out of her house the last time I was there! I have high blood pressure so I can’t eat certain foods, and she has cancer and needs to steer clear of anything that will trigger it. It’s not her fault, but that’s what it is to have a disease. She refuses to discuss any of this, and every conversation ends in a fight now. How do I get through to her that this is not judgement, it’s concern for her very life?
— Keep Fighting for Your Life
Jenée Desmond-Harris: When I read that the daughter was being hedonistic, I was waiting to read about tons of unprotected sex and illegal drugs. A GLASS OF WINE “more nights than not” and … chips? And watching Netflix on her days off? Like a normal person?? LOL. Mom, please! Simmer down.
Lizzie O’Leary: Oh heeeeeyyyyy, a moment in which my personal cancer-having expertise is relevant [rolls up sleeves]. Okay, so, when people are lucky enough to survive cancer, they have all sorts of feelings! In the past 18 months since my stage 1 lung cancer surgery, I have been: euphoric, ragey, terrified, exuberant, depressed, desperate to be alone, desperate to be surrounded by people, energized, fatigued, and lots of other things. I have also had to balance other people’s feelings about my cancer. And that is, pardon me, fucking exhausting. I get that you are operating from a place of love and concern, but unless you are an oncologist, you need to back off, now, or risk seriously damaging your relationship with your daughter.
Jenée: I thought you might have some insight here. I really hate that you had to manage other people’s emotions when you were going through so much yourself.
Also, one doesn’t have to have had cancer to understand this kind of mom and this kind of fretting. I think it’s fair to say that the Letter Writer is probably what the kids are now calling an “Almond Mom”—someone whose identity is really wrapped up in staying healthy (read: thin) and all that it entails, who thinks three almonds make a totally reasonable snack, and who gets really bent out of shape if other people (especially people who are her daughter!) are not following the same program.
Lizzie: I had not heard of an “Almond Mom” before, but that is quite a coinage. When someone we love gets sick, there is a desire, often unconscious, to make sure we keep the worst at bay. It is natural, it is human, and it also comes very close to blaming a sick person for being sick. You’re not wrong that alcohol is carcinogenic. It is! But there is a fine line between noting that something is a carcinogen and saying it will “trigger” cancer. I say this especially as someone who had a kind of cancer with a huge stigma. You would not believe how many times people asked me if I am a smoker (no, I have a genetic mutation, but even if I had been a pack a day smoker–rude question!).
Nothing makes a cancer patient feel worse than the implication that they are being cavalier with their health. Tell your daughter that you love her, that her cancer scared you, and that your fear about her mortality has made you phrase some things badly. Apologize, then ask her what you can do to support her. I promise this will be vastly more effective than shame and judgment.
Jenée: I can’t believe people asked if you smoked! I mean, I can totally understand if they wondered whether you smoked, but to actually ask? Wow.
Anyway, that’s great advice that is hard to follow. But I guess I will add one more little thing: LW, you clearly love your daughter. And you clearly have a strong sense that physical health is precious and important, which tells me you’re someone who is in touch with how valuable life is. So I hope you can take all that and expand it a little to embrace the idea that living a good, enjoyable life—not just surviving for a long time—is also valuable! Your daughter is doing things that bring her pleasure. Might they lead to a shorter life than consuming a strict, no alcohol diet and spending every spare minute doing calisthenics and popping supplements instead of watching TV? Sure. However, maybe the goal is not to live as long as humanly possible, but to live a reasonably long time in a way that’s not defined by restriction. And do you know what else is bad for quality of life? Fighting with your mom. So if you really care about her, drop this topic and make sure conflict with you isn’t a part of her last five, 10,15 or 50 years on earth.
