The Old Prof Thinks Out Loud

One of the most common, and unbearable, redundancies in American English -- and, for once, the AP Stylebook agrees -- is to say someone died of "terminal cancer."
Gee, don't you think we can figure out the cancer was "terminal" by the very fact that the person is now deceased?
And I, as usual, would take it one step more and suggest that we shouldn't be using "terminal" at all in any of these death-inviting phrases. For example, people tend to say "So-And-So has terminal cancer." Well, does she? If she is still alive we can't be sure at all. And, if you're working in journalism, it is nothing more than a prediction, like the weather, not a verified fact until it occurs; you'd have to wait until she actually died to be sure the cancer was, in fact, "terminal," and then you wouldn't use it, either, because of the redundancy already cited here.
What if the poor woman lives another six months? Or another year? Or another decade? It can -- and has been known to -- happen. And, when she finally does kick the bucket -- with or without completing her "bucket list" -- the cause of death isn't cancer? So, she would never have had anything you could label "terminal cancer," and your earlier report turns out to be not only premature, but completely false.
It seems to me it would always be a lot safer to bury the term "terminal (illness)" and revert to one of the old standbys, like "the doctors don't expect her to live six months" or "the doctors are saying it's terminal." Then the doctors can be proved wrong, but you can't.
Are you listening, AP Stylebook?