Maggie Smith Quotes

Everything was going for me, I didn't even know the meaning of the word insecurity and suddenly I am surrounded by words like operation, cancer, chemotherapy, radiation.

When they tell you that you have cancer, you panic.

It's a scary word, 'cancer.'

The word 'cancer' carries with it enormous fear, fear for the future, fear for family.

When the doctor told me I had cancer, I was scared.

That was just kind of a surprise when the doctor said, 'We did a biopsy on your appendix, and you have cancer.'

It was a fine cancer experience, as cancer experiences go.

The day in 2004 when the radiologist told me I had invasive cancer, I walked down the hospital corridor looking for a phone to call my husband, and I could almost see the fear coming toward me like a big, black shadow.

You hear the word 'cancer,' it scares you. You think of death.

Being diagnosed with cancer is terrifying.

My life got turned upside down when I found out I had cancer.

They didn't tell me what type of cancer I had. They didn't tell me what stage I was in. They just told me, 'Mr Gomez, you have cancer.' My life flashed before my eyes. I thought about my kids, I thought about my wife. Nothing prepares you for the shock of someone telling you you have that horrible disease.

Cancer is tough. Even saying it, it's a tough word to say.

Don't get me wrong: I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Even the word 'cancer' brings back the nausea and pain, the fear I felt, and the heartbreak I saw in my parents' faces. The smells that fill hospitals and the constant tired feeling that comes with treatment are also permanently stuck in my memory.

When you immerse yourself in medicine you realise that hope is not absolute. It's not that simple.

Serious is when they tell you, 'You've got cancer.' Cancer is serious, but then the rest of it is not.

Cancer will be with me for the rest of my life, be it as a nodule, tumor or cell someplace, or in my fears and anxieties.

'Cancer' is such a frightening word.

I beat a brain tumor.

I was able to get operated on four days after I was diagnosed. It was just a matter of getting this baseball-sized tumor out of me. I reflect now on how lucky I was to be in the situation where I could get the best possible help and treatment.

I am not frightened of much, but I wouldn't like to get ill.

I'm not a type-B personality who knows I have a cancer growing inside of me and can live with the knowledge. I go into a kung-fu attack position when I go through the door of a hospital.

I consider myself pretty fearless, but the one thing I have always been frightened of is cancer.

What kind of America do people want to leave for their children? What horrors are down the road, stuff that was unthinkable 30 years ago?

Cancer is a scary thing and you have to deal with it seriously.