At some point on the agonizingly slow conveyor belt to diagnosis, one of my doctors said we'd need to find out if my cancer were one of the aggressive ones, or one of the lazy ones.
Please don't call my cancer lazy. It may hear you. It may take offense. It might even feel compelled to get its act together. It might start to emulate its more aggressive siblings, just to prove it can.
It might start to question its potential, to realize it can dream bigger dreams. It might square its shoulders and begin to assume that nothing can hold it back. It might change. It might come into its own.
So whatever you do, please don't taunt my cancer. No good can come of that.
Far better to just keep your voice down when you're talking about it. Let it think all is fine. Let it not know what hit it.