How rough/shit do you look/feel today?

Russ Read-Barrow explores the emotional minefield of the question "How are you?" when you're living with cancer. A raw and relatable reflection on communication, support, and surviving the small talk.

WORK AND CANCERMY STORY

Russ Read-Barrow

5/27/20252 min read

"How are you?" In person. On WhatsApp. In work chat groups. The question I've been asked more than any other in the last four years.

I get it — it’s kind, well-meaning, natural... easy. But when you’re living with cancer and all its delightful treatments — what the actual f* are you supposed to say?

Especially to a three-word WhatsApp message.

The answer is never simple. It’s too long. Too layered.

I’ve had cancer for four years and never actually had symptoms from the cancer itself. It’s the treatment that’s made me feel appalling — chemo, surgery, ablation, blah blah.

Then there’s the follow-up: "You look really well."

And yeah — lovely. Thank you. But it also messes with your head. When does that stop? What happens when I don’t look well? Will people stop saying it? Should they?

Even on good days, I feel like I need a disclaimer: “For now.” “While it lasts.” Maybe with a laughing or vomit emoji to take the edge off.

Right now, I probably feel properly okay for maybe three or four days out of every fourteen. The rest of the time? There’s just so much going on inside that I honestly don’t know how I feel — or how to answer.

And over message? No chance. You either lie or write a novel.

I’ve tried replying with a percentage: "25% today." It kind of works. But then comes the follow-up. And sometimes I don’t have the energy for follow-ups.

Maybe the issue isn’t the answer. Maybe it’s the question.

Flip it:

  • "How sh*t do you feel today?"

  • "How many toilet trips so far?"

  • "How much do you want to crawl back into bed?"

  • "How little do you give an f about [INSERT ANYTHING] today?"

Start negative, and maybe we get to surprise you with something positive.

I’m not saying stop asking. It’s nice to know you care. But sometimes a little ❤️ is enough. Says a lot. Needs no reply. Mix in an aubergine emoji too — lift the mood.

Maybe I’m just being a miserable bstard because it’s Tuesday, I slept like sht, and LinkedIn frowns on swearing these days.

But seriously — if you’ve been through cancer or are going through it — do you feel the same? Or is it just me?

(And really — no need to apologise if you’ve asked before. Just maybe think twice before you send those three words again.)