IS IT TRULY 'HEROIC' TO ENDURE CANCER?

I HAVE been reading various reports in the news lately about people "fighting" cancer and being "heroes" in their survival of the disease, or news articles about their amazing actions during their cancer treatment.

"Hero fights cancer and runs the world," one newspaper declared.

It made me wonder how families of the folk who died due to the nefarious illness felt when they read these articles.

Was the cancer sufferer in their family weak? Did they not fight hard enough? Were they not heroic?

To say someone is a hero when they are dealing with cancer is a very emotive statement to make when that person is coping with a life-threatening illness.

People who live with the full effects of multiple sclerosis aren't labelled heroes; they are seen as survivors of a debilitating disease. Cancer seems to be the only illness that you can fight, win and be awarded heroic status if you overcome it through rigorous treatment.

To be called a hero is loaded with responsibility and expectancy.

Cancer is an illness.

Last year, my brother developed cancer and received good treatment and managed to control it.

I am happy he has survived and was amazed at his capacity to deal with the heavy doses of medication.

He cried in pain and revulsion at being attacked by the disease. He howled in horror as needles and chemicals were pumped into veins - and I cried with him.

I don't think two people had ever cried that much in the ward, because it upset a nurse. She told us both to be strong. I asked her to let me and my brother not be strong, to let us cry and kick our anger into the clinically cleaned floor.

We felt better for it. Neither of us was strong; we were scared cowards and worried that every day he would get worse and die.

He was no hero, yet he lived.

Had my brother died, I would never have thought any less of him. I would have assumed that a disease that had killed many people before him had destroyed his ability to live due to the devastation that it had inflicted.

I am not saying here that people who develop cancer and cope with it do not possess strength of character. I applaud their sheer grit to deal with such a terrifying disease. It has been proven that a good mental attitude can help your chances of survival, and I am in awe of the people who can bring that positive force into their lives to help them overcome cancer. It is inspiring.

I am just questioning a body's ability to cope with disease and medication and comparing that to a human act of bravery - when in fact it is natural sheer survival that gives us the need to stay alive.

Sometimes, when you mentally give up, your body will survive in the direst of circumstances, like people who survived the prisoner-of-war camps.

Many men spoke later of their minds and spirits giving way, yet their bodies continued to function throughout the horrific ordeal. They lived.

There are some people, such as Jane Tomlinson, who have had a devastating cancer prognosis, yet dedicate the rest of their lives to charitable work, or commit their precious time to raising awareness of cancer. That's an amazing act of self-sacrifice and shows the sheer strength of human durability.

But is it heroic? What is a hero?

There are awards in the UK where kids are given public recognition for being heroes. Some of these children have fought the flames in a burning building to save their families, or faced an armed robber and helped people to escape.

Now that's heroic to me. That is a human making a choice to put themselves in danger for the greater good.

Then there are some children who are seen as heroic because they underwent aggressive chemotherapy to save their own lives and, as I watch them receive their bravery medals, I always wonder about the families who have watched their own child die of cancer and question how those parents must feel. Were they denied their child because the kid wasn't a fighter or a hero?

It surreptitiously suggests that brave, strong kids survive and those who succumb to the disease are weak.

Cancer kills people, not weakness or an inability to become a hero.

I hope everyone who is currently fighting any disease comes through it with dignity and peace.

We don't need to be heroes; we can all cry and get frustrated at developing a disgusting disease. It doesn't make us cowards; it just makes us human.

NO ELECTION? BULLY FOR YOU, MR BROWN

GORDON Brown took a right battering over the snap election debacle. Many people thought it was cowardly of him to mention an election then back off when he looked dodgy in the polls.

It reminded me of a school bully who used to terrify us kids back in the 1960s.

One day, he picked on a skinny wee guy called Sammy who, when challenged to a fight, smiled and accepted immediately.

When school finished, we all ran round to the football field with Sammy. The bully was watching and we all saw a sudden flash of fear on his face.

The bully stood there and spat out: "I don't want to fight as I might kill you."

Sammy laughed at him. He had ended the bully's reign by doing nothing but accepting the challenge.

Watch out Mr Brown, threats only work if you have the bottle to see them through.

DON'T PROTECT CHILDREN FROM REALITIES OF LIFE

TODAY'S kids are concerned and overstressed. They worry about wars and some news reports leave them depressed, said the researchers who conducted 87 discussions with groups of children, parents and teachers.

How did the kids from my dad's childhood deal with life?

My dad was a kid in the 1930s and had to deal with Second World War bombing raids, rationing, being evacuated out of the city and away from home to live with strangers and trying to cope with poverty in inner-city Glasgow.

He coped magnificently, just like all the other kids back then.

We pander too much to the kids of today. What are we supposed to do? Tell them there is no war in Iraq? There are no kids dying in Darfur?

Life is not a video game or a cartoon and to pretend otherwise is underestimating the ability of our children to grow up and cope properly in the real world.

I SWEAR IT'S ALL MY FAULT

MY GREAT-NIECE, Abi, got into trouble last week, and it's my fault.

"You go onstage don't you, Aunty Janey," Abi asked me, "and say naughty words and people laugh?"

I tried to wriggle out of it: "I don't really say bad words, Abi."

"You told me in Edinburgh I can't come to your comedy show as you say bad words that wee girls aren't allowed to hear." She added: "I have heard you say bad words on your wee videos."

"Yes, I do say some bad words, I can't lie." Defeated by a toddler.

"Well, I told my childminder that it's OK for me to swear sometimes as my aunty gets paid for swearing and my mummy says you have a lot of explaining to do."

Abi smiled sweetly and her mum glared at me.

Like I say, it's all my fault.