I just now got a cancer diagnosis (papillary thyroid carcinoma). It’s too soon to know what the future will entail, but there will almost certainly be surgery involved followed by hormone therapy. Because health care is limited on the remote part of the remote island to which I am scheduled to move in 40 days, it’s likely that it will impact my moving schedule. It’s unlikely that this cancer will shorten my life in any significant way, though my quality of life will almost certainly be different (possibly better, but I’ll talk about that another time).
I do know one thing, because I’ve thought about it a lot during my years of medical practice. I would like to avoid all the violent and confrontational metaphors that people often use around cancer. These are my cells, though a few of them are misbehaving at present. I’m not planning on going to war with them. I don’t want to battle against them. This isn’t a fight that I’m going to win or (fates forfend) lose. I’m not planning to hire an army equipped with weapons like scalpels and cytotoxic drugs to kill the evil cells. I’m not planning on being brave or bold or to attack or beat the disease (which is, remember, a part of me).
I’m going to start by educating myself. I’m going to find people who are knowledgeable, skilled experts who can figure out the best approach to minimizing the harm to myself and my friends and family from those misbehaving cells. Some of those cells will have to go, and it might be poignant and sad as some well-behaved cells will also be lost, but if it is the best option, then so be it. I will also work just a little bit harder to value all the wonderful people I have known, the many things that bring me joy, and all the love I have known in this wonderful life.
Were I reading this from a friend, one of my reactions would be to ask if there is anything they need. Right now, only this: just lose the fighting language and walk with me as I take this unexpected journey.
—2p