It seems that everyone I talk to wants to talk about "battling cancer". This evokes a mental image of a knight in shining armor facing off against a hideous dragon labeled "cancer". The battle is usually described as a heroic encounter, and the incredible bravery of the cancer patient is invoked.
I personally think that this is a crock.
You don't battle cancer, people. Cancer is a condition that happens to you. You then throw yourself into the maw of the medical establishment, who subject you to any number of indignities, including: pumping poison into your veins so that your hair falls out; bombarding you with radiation until your flesh burns and slicing you open like the Thanksgiving turkey and scooping out bits that you had previously been well, attached to.
Primarily, your job as the patient is to cooperate and suffer. You can comport yourself with dignity and equanimity, trying not to bite the heads off the people around you. You do this as you gradually waste away (or not). I guess if you can pull this off, it can be heroic - facing your fate resolutely. But it's not a battle.
A battle implies that you have some say in the outcome. Really, the only say that you have is to follow the instructions of your doctor, and what attitude you have while you do it. If it's a battle, then you are the battlefield, not a combatant: it's mutant cells against your doctors.
I dislike this metaphor because it implies that the cancer patient is somehow responsible for the outcome of their treatment. This is true up to a point, but only to a point. Mostly, it seems from my perspective that the outcome is largely out of your hands, and you are along for the ride.
I have struggled to come up with a different metaphor, but I haven't found one yet. Perhaps it is more like a sea journey in a small boat. You can set your sails for your destination, but if the seas and the winds don't cooperate, you aren't going where you want to.
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I think the issue with the "battling cancer" metaphor is that the entire notion of a battle has been idealized. There are still places and times where there are rules of engagement and proportional escalation and negotiations of cease-fires and treaties... but Cancer is a motherF*&#er, and he fights dirty pool. There's no knight, there's no dragon, there's just a regular guy going about his day and getting mugged in alley by some thug who has moved beyond the point of caring about human life. Maybe he did something to make the mugging more likely, or maybe it's a freak cosmic accident where he just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when a hopped up crack-head needed to score cash for his next fix. The fight with the thug almost doesn't matter, you fight as hard as you want to or not at all, he's getting your wallet and your watch. What matters is who you are later that day, and the next day, and the next week. He can take your wallet and your watch... just so long as he doesn't take YOU.
ReplyDeleteLet's go back to the woefully inadequate battle metaphor. This isn't a battle, it's a war, and it's being fought on two fronts, physical and psychological. The doctors, they're the grunts on the physical side. They're going to keep up with the mortars and the anti-tank rounds until they're called back. And you? You may be the battlefield, but you're also in command and most importantly you're the only one who can win the psychological side of the war. You fight as hard as you want, or not at all, you are only accountable for who YOU are at the end of the day. Cancer fights dirty pool; it will make you see yourself weak, frail, angry, bitter, and everything you never wanted to be. It takes a tenacious sonofa&*$#% to hold on to who they are, and who they want to be. I have faith in your ability to be that sonofa&*$#%.
I'm scraping your boat metaphor, mostly because i've never really loved Hemingway. Let's stick with Orson Scott Card...
"remember, the enemy's gate is down."
I like your sailing metaphor. In my case the winds have been fair and I've had a following sea - can't ask for any more than that.
ReplyDeleteYou, my friend, are sailing around Cape Horn in winter. You trim the sails and tend the lines per the Doc's orders and hope for the best.
It's a tough ride, but some do make it through.
Wishing you a break in the weather - Brian