When to Play the C Card

No one asks for cancer.  No one deserves cancer.

Yet, there is sometimes power in throwing out the C card.  People will back down, suddenly become “nicer people”.

Knowing when to play the card is not always easy.

Read below for information….

If you are dealt a crummy hand, you might find yourself playing the cancer card – even if other people object. I’ve come to believe that in certain cases, I not only could but should play the C card.

Before my mother died, I regularly needed to respond to an official document from the German government. A notary public had to certify her existence so she would receive the reparations sent to many Jews forced to flee the Nazis. Filling out the certificate – it was called the Lebensbescheinigung, or “proof of being alive” – always tripped me into irrationally intense distress, and not only because it reminded me of her displacement.

When, two months after the funeral, she was sent a proof-of-being-alive form, I threw it in the trash. That was the first time I played the C card. I had no wish to keep the money illicitly, but somehow mailing a letter with a death certificate felt deeply repugnant. At a later date, I simply returned a check with a Post-it recording her date of death. Cancer served as my excuse for not responding properly.

Living With Cancer: Playing the C Card If you are dealt a crummy hand, you might find yourself playing the cancer card – even if other people object. I’ve come to believe that in certain cases, I not only could but should play the C card.

Before my mother died, I regularly needed to respond to an official document from the German government. A notary public had to certify her existence so she would receive the reparations sent to many Jews forced to flee the Nazis. Filling out the certificate – it was called the Lebensbescheinigung, or “proof of being alive” – always tripped me into irrationally intense distress, and not only because it reminded me of her displacement.

When, two months after the funeral, she was sent a proof-of-being-alive form, I threw it in the trash. That was the first time I played the C card. I had no wish to keep the money illicitly, but somehow mailing a letter with a death certificate felt deeply repugnant. At a later date, I simply returned a check with a Post-it recording her date of death. Cancer served as my excuse for not responding properly.

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