What does a diagnosis of cancer really mean to the average person? |
Cancer: What Are the Real Effects? By Donald C. Brown Many members of my immediate family have had Cancer in one form or another. As a long-term smoker, I should not have been surprised when I got the diagnosis of a Carcinoid Tumor in the middle lobe of my right lung, but I was. After several confirming tests, that lobe of my lung was removed completely. I was fortunate in that the cancer had not spread and was relatively slow-growing. I did not have to undergo radiation or chemotherapy. but I was left with a greatly weakened immune system. For the first five years, none of my doctors would even hazard a guess as to what my prognosis for life might be. At first, I tried desperately to regain some feeling of control of my life. I researched the disease thoroughly. I learned that almost 90% of lung cancer patients die within the first five years, but a significant amount of that percentage die from some complication of the disease rather than from the cancer itself. For that reason, my doctors would not give me any predictions because they simply did not know. During those five years, I experienced several complications, including cardiac disease, severe asthma, pneumonia, congestive heart failure, kidney and liver damage, and so forth. At least three times, one or the other of my doctors would tell me that 95% of the people who had experienced what I had died within five years. I almost died about four times myself. I have written about one of those experiences in a previous post to writing.com. In spite of all those experiences, I survived. During my last visit to my primary care doctor, he said that he expected me to live a normal lifespan because I simply refused to die. He had never had a patient who had survived what I had gone through and that the normal statistics did not seem to apply to me. As you might expect, I had a lot of time to think. I went through the normal phases of diagnosis, denial, grief, treatment, and recovery. I have talked to hundreds of cancer patients. Sometimes it seems that we have some uncanny sort of way to identify other patients on sight. Most of them have experiences very similar to mine. I have also talked to a lot of friends or family members of cancer patients. I have discovered that patients can say things to each other that we cannot discuss with others because they have no frame of reference to understand what we are saying. Most people think that the most devastating aspect of cancer is the extreme treatment methods. Chemotherapy often leaves the patient in such a weakened state that some people do not understand why or how a patient can go through something like that. Yet, the patient often seems stronger in spirit than the family and friends. This is so contradictory that most people cannot comprehend such a circumstance. However, and cancer patient can tell you that the treatment or even eventual death is not the most devastating aspect of cancer. You see, in the diagnosis, denial, and grief stages, we are forced to confront death daily. We have no choice because we cannot simply ignore what is happening to our bodies. In this daily confrontation with death, we are also forced to do something most people never do: we must examine ourselves so deeply that we become very aware of all our little faults and strengths and our own fear of death or fear of living. Indeed, many people are more afraid of living than of dying. I have talked to many people who were forced to confront death, either during combat, law enforcement careers, or as victims of violent crime. They have all experienced this same life-changing introspection. When we are forced to acknowledge that we are about to die, we are also forced to examine why we should live. For many people, this is not a pleasant experience. Some of us have to admit that there is no compelling reason for us to continue to live. We have done nothing to help anyone else, we have contributed nothing to our societies, and our presence will not be missed. We discover just how unimportant and trivial we really are. I cannot tell you how badly this shatters our illusions and self-images. For most people, this introspection is a one-time experience. However, for a cancer patient (or any terminally ill person), this is a daily part of life for the rest of our lives. We do not have the luxury of pretending that it will all go away because it won’t. All we can do is either give up and die, or reject death and fight. A part of this fight involves becoming aware of other people around us. We become more concerned about their needs than our own desire for release. That which does not kill us, strengthens us. If we cannot stand against the daily confrontation with death, we die first in our minds and spirits and later in our bodies. The death of hope is the most devastating thing that can happen to any human being. May it never happen to you. |