Cancer Prevention From The Asbestos Cancer Victims' Rights Campaign

I received an email recently from the Asbestos Cancer Victims' Rights Campaign, asking if I wouldn't join them in spreading the word for National Cancer Prevention Month.  The Campaign is run by Susan Vento, an advocate for mesothelioma, a cancer caused by asbestos exposure.  Her husband, former U.S. congressman Bruce Vento, died of the disease.

The article I've been asked to share is a great piece, highlighting prevention and early detection as the key methods of avoiding a cancer diagnosis.  I couldn't agree more, and I'm happy to aid in Susan's message any way I can.  Because it's not only Susan's message, it's all of ours.  Here story belongs to many of us.  We've all had a husband, a father, a daughter, a sister struggle with or fall victim to cancer.  And it's about time we dealt with the problem head-on.

Take a look at the article here.  And please think about ways you can engage in cancer prevention too.

Happy Valentines Day!

A warm hello to everyone on this, the day of the celebration of love.  Whether you agree with the consumer culture associated with the holiday or not, it's still a great time to refocus on positive energy and modes of thinking.  Today is the celebration of love.  

I especially wish all of my cancer survivor friends a Happy Valentines Day, because I know how difficult it is to be inspired by a celebration of something you no longer think you deserve, or can ever find again.  I hope that you are all as lucky as I am, having found that love again, and feeling all of the associated emotions along with it, like for instance, sometimes she's a huge (censored: most beautiful lady ever!).  Just remember that there are a lot of people out there, and you have something to offer all of them.  

And that about wraps it up.  Find your loved ones and have some fun.  

You Wish You Had What Kind of Cancer??

Recently, an ad campaign from Pancreatic Cancer Action has come under fire.  The ads showcase pancreatic cancer patients actively wishing they had other types of cancer with better survival outcomes.  The campaign has been widely criticized for being insensitive and disrespectful to survivors of the showcased cancers, and survivors of other cancers in general.  It's true that the issue seems pretty straightforwardly douchey, and calls into question the current sobriety of whomever green-lighted the ads.

The reasons for the uproar are probably more complex than a simple debate on political correctness, however.  Yes, it's completely unreasonable that Pancreatic Cancer Action chose to say something so insensitive, but the issue does highlight the ongoing need to reengage in a communal conversation about cancer.

It seems to me that people were upset for two reasons: 1.) Survivors were upset because their suffering was belittled, and 2.) Non-survivors were upset because something upsetting was said about an already upsetting topic.  I'd like to briefly address both of those, as well as discuss the underlying issue it exposes.

1.) Survivors, like myself, were disturbed by the ads' chosen content.  Making it seem like there are "better" cancers to have is unacceptable.  There are no good cancers.  Cancer is a terrible disease that causes unimaginable pain and suffering to individuals, families, and whole communities.  It's like a giant, tumorous Godzilla.  In fact, Godzilla was spawned from the larger cultural fear of the atomic age and its health effects surrounding post-WWII Japan, and is part of a whole sub-genre of film called Hibakusha Cinema.  Hibakusha is a Japanese word that translates to "Atomic Bomb Victim."

Anybody wanna play frisbee? No?

And that's what cancer is like -- having a giant, terrible monster stomp through everything you've ever loved and hold dear to your heart.  And sometimes, all the way to the end of your pain-stricken, chemo-addled life.  Occassionally, people survive their ordeal and go into remission.  At this point in our medical technological capabilities, the achievement of remission is still mostly random.  Though, yes, there are certain cancers that are easier to maintain than others these days.  This is another sore point these ads have decided to intentionally focus on.

Survivors are lucky.  Some of us know we're lucky.  And there's such a thing as survivor's guilt.  Maybe we don't want to be walking around as if nothing happened, while others are fading away in a hospital bed.  On some level, I think all survivors understand that cancer can kill any of us at any time.  The ones who survive are still just as upset about having gone through it.  Pancreatic Cancer Action's ads make it seem like we're better off, and no one is better off for having cancer.

2.) The public is upset BECAUSE CANCER!  Period.

Whenever the subject of cancer comes up in the media, there's a general sense of tiptoeing over glass while on thin ice next to a sleeping family of hungry bears with eczema.  When it's a good news story, anchors make sure to wear their biggest phony smiles, because they think it's what you want to see.  When it's a bad news story, they scrunch up their faces into a stony resolve, and throw on their biggest sympathy smiles.  It's human nature to not know what to do with someone else's suffering.

But we've spent too much time tiptoeing around the issue.  It's way past the point where we should have had an open conversation about it.  The biggest obstacle to discussing cancer is that people die from it -- a lot of people.  And death anxiety is probably the most influential force in people's lives.  They don't want to talk about, or deal with anything revolving around their own mortality -- the slightest suggestion or whisper that someday they too will cease to exist.  Until cancer deaths lower significantly, it's going to be hard for most people to address the issue head-on.

There's some overlap in this category, because survivors are not immune to death anxiety, and are, of course, in many cases much more susceptible to its effects.  We've already had a very real brush with death, and many of us retreat into a state a mind where it can never happen again.  Denial is the most powerful defense around.  Overall, it's an extremely complicated emotional response, and each individual achieves a different level of openness and self-introspection at different stages of their lives (if ever).  In terms of cancer, the level of public introspection is still relatively low, and so whenever the topic is breached in a negative light, there will be an immediate and forceful negative response.

The key is education, and communication.  Through communicating openly about cancer we'll all, slowly and steadily, crawl tooth and nail onto the same page.  It'll be a long process, and it starts with a few loud-mouthed advocates.  Those advocates are here, and I have complete faith that someday we'll be able to not only rid the world of completely irresponsible advertising, but also, not become completely grab-a-torch-and-burn-down-Frankenstein's-Monster enraged by it either.


Image credits: Top -- Lung Cancer Cells by Wellcome Images via Flickr; Middle -- Godzilla Cosplay by Telindra via deviantArt

A Tale Of Two Kellers

I've been following Lisa Bonchek Adams for quite some time.  She's a patient advocate and cancer truth-teller, discussing the details of her ongoing ordeal with stage 4 breast cancer in an open and honest way.  I found her shortly after my own diagnosis, when I was confused and disoriented, having stumbled into a world that no longer made sense to me.  People like Lisa are important for several reasons.  Let's make a list.

1.) They point the way for cancer patients.  According to the American Cancer Society, an estimated 1,660,290 people were diagnosed with cancer in 2013, roughly 72,000 of them were young adults, or people aged 15-39.  I was diagnosed at 25.  I had no idea what to do.  Immediately, I switched into handler mode, but quickly lost momentum and crashed into a sea of depression.  There isn't a lot you can do, lost and alone, to help yourself in the midst of a crisis.  Part of a healthy recovery includes a strong support network.  People like Lisa provided that for me, as I took to social media to commiserate and learn from those who had gone before me.

2.) They point the way for the rest of us.  Having cancer is awful.  But it teaches you things.  If you listen long enough to someone who has the disease, they might just convince you of what's really important in life, and you might just become a happier, healthier individual for it.

3.) These stories must be heard.  They contain hard truths.  Death, suffering, grief, depression, and the macabre are all realities in this life.  To ignore the truth means to become less adjusted and more easily taken in by falsehoods.  There are a lot of falsehoods when it comes to cancer.  Most everyone gets it wrong.  It's hardly ever represented truthfully, because the truth is too painful for the culture of ignorance we've created.  In one of my first posts, I discuss this idea in detail.  You can read it here.

In a recent twist on Lisa's story, two op-eds were published by Emma and Bill Keller.  Emma's ran in the Guardian (since pulled), and Bill's ran in the New York Times.  Emma suggested that Lisa's approach to disseminating information revolving her struggle was offensive.  Bill backed her up when the public outcry delivered a swift backlash.  There's a great piece summarizing the whole incident making the rounds.  It was written by Megan Garber and ran in the Atlantic.  You can read that here, complete with featured tweets from Jeopardy record-holder Ken Jennings and cancer patient advocates.

The question here is how we, as a society, would like to operate.  We can certainly choose to waltz through life peeking out from the wool over our eyes in some misguided attempt to preserve innocence.  That's the route the Kellers have chosen.  They're very adamant about the terminally ill keeping quiet, not ruining it for the rest of us.  Because the rest of us will surely never die.  Suffering will never touch anyone but Lisa Bonchek Adams, so let her do her suffering somewhere soundproof.  It's my firm belief that looking away never helped anyone, and the only way to move forward on an issue is to have an open and honest conversation about it.  And that's exactly what Lisa has been doing all along.  If cancer ever kills me, you can be sure I won't go quietly.