Call for proposals
Catia this morning couldn’t sleep. I woke up about 1 1/2 hour ago, tossed in bed for an hour, then gave up and came to the computer. Wrote some emails, canceled my participation at a conference for the 20th, checked out the new yahoo webmail then thought what the heck I can write something in the blog.
Blogs are funny: they pretend to be like personal journals but they really aren’t. You sort of write for yourself, but you also know it is going to be read by a number of people, sometimes a large number. So you can’t really write everything that comes to your mind. Well, you shouldn’t. But they are therapeutic in a way, at least that’s what I’ve been told. So I am writing at 5:30 in the morning, to pass the time. If I was still a smoker I would now get my morning coffee with a cigarette and go out in the cold, shivering with a butt in one hand and a mug in the other. Because I quit the habit last Sunday night (with six of my friends here, we had a smoke-out party, with goody bags filled with stuff to keep our minds off of cigarettes in the next days…can’t beat this support group!) I think I’ll brew my espresso and sip it in front of the computer…
Ok, caffettiera on the stove, ready to blog some more. Why did I wake up? I don’t know. This happens to me so rarely that I really can’t explain sleeplessness. All I know is that I woke up and started thinking of what happens next. My oncologist friend was a little worried that the cancer is in my left breast, because radiation can be cardiac toxic. Also my surgeon confirmed to me (I had kind of guessed by looking at them) that my mammos from last year look entirely different from this year’s mammos. That speaks of a fast growing cancer. On top of this, she found another little lump at 12 o’clock, that the nurse hadn’t felt last week. It grows fast and it’s scary.
I let the surgeon schedule the next surgery, whatever that is, for the 20th even though I will have to miss a conference I was looking forward to in San Diego, because I just want to have this done asap. Bruce was asking whether I wouldn’t like to have the mastectomy after our trip to Hawaii on Thanksgiving, to be on the island with both my boobs not thinking about cancer, but I won’t be able to not think about it, boob or no boob. It’s like aliens have taken hold of the boob, so until I get them out (and I am so sorry, boob, I have to take you out with them!) I will feel invaded and violated. We might actually have to miss our Hawaii trip as well, at least postpone it, depending on when the actual mastectomy will be performed. My surgeon offered to write a medical excuse letter to help us get a refund or a postponement. We’ll wait and see. I want to promise myself that these will be the last things I want to do and are important to me that I’ll miss because of cancer. I know I can’t really promise that, because there will be more surgeries, more doctor’s appointments, treatments… but I do want to promise nevertheless, to force myself to not give in to the disease, to keep living to the fullest (cancer is just one more reason to do so), to not delve in self pity as tempting as it is. A friend told me that when she was diagnosed with a cronic debilitating disease a few years ago, doctors had told her she wouldn’t be able to keep traveling, working hard, doing all the things she did before. She is still traveling, working hard, publishing, being a champion of human rights around the world, teaching…me how to do it in spite of the odds.
I have met so many who have told me how they have won their battle with cancer or other illnesses since I’ve been diagnosed and out. OK, being inclined toward nonviolence I am not sure I like the word battle here, but you get the jist…actually, why don’t I propose that you suggest another way to call this…kind of like when Dan Savage asked his readers to find a nasty definition for Santorum (some of you will remember this, some others won’t know what I am talking about but that’s ok)…So friends, if you are so inclined, tell me what we should call people’s ‘fight’ against cancer, with a word that doesn’t speak of violence and doesn’t give cancer too much credit either (like me thinking of it as alien invasions…that’s way too much credit!), but also speaks to the fear and to the hopes and to the courage and disillusionment of living with and despite it. I won’t even call this a competition, because I don’t like that too much either (in principle), but I think this would be a good exercise for me at least. So, ready…set…go! Suggest! Invent! Give me a new word!
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Okay, this request piqued my interest, as well as my argumentative dander. The first cut involves an adamant assertion that some things simply REQUIRE a battle, a fight. This arguably is true even with people (e.g., Gandhi himself expressed doubt that the strategy which succeeded against the British would have been effective against Hitler’s Germany). And “cancer” cannot be conceived as anything like an organic being (or at least one conclusively separate from the being in which it exists), and so should enjoy none of the rights or considerations granted to feeling creatures as are explicated in the various state and federal laws, and in international treaties. If we can “fight” for human rights and “battle” oppression, why can we not “kick the shit out of†cancer?
And yet …
As best I understand, cancer is not an “invader” — it is, in fact, the very people who “get” it. It is one’s own cells reproducing in a harmful, mutant manner. So fighting cancer entails fighting a (contemptible) part of one’s self. Ordinarily, the more enlightened might seek to approach such an “adversary†with a gentle recognition that it is not separate from us; like Satan, perhaps. Yet ju-jitsu is unlikely to accomplish the desired results in such cases. “I cast thee out†will bring only derogatory chuckles in the modern medical context. So how does one “do battle†with one’s own self?
It’s beginning to look as if alankk needs his own blog to work this stuff out. Suffice to say that sentient beings can reach a general consensus on certain assumptions, and one of them is that cancer is “bad.†If civilization is to progress, bad things must either be made good, made irrelevant, or made to go away. With cancer, it would appear that only the last option is feasible. So, Catia, I submit that semantics are meaningless when the fundamental goal is unchanging. There will be no negotiations, no coercive diplomacy. I, and likely all others who love you, care only that this contemptible part of you be made to go away, and that the remainder stay with us for ages to come.
[…] Alan and (privately) Toni tell me I shouldn’t be afraid or scrupulous about using violence metaphors to describe my adventures with cancer (there you go, I found a word!). Since Toni has so far abstained from posting to the blog, I heartily recommend you read Alan’s comment and enjoy, like I did (I love you Alan!), his elegant and eloquent prose, not to mention his unmatched wit. […]
Kick the shit out of it, Catia.
It’s what I’m doing to the ants that seem to want to take over my bathroom.
Kick its ass.
Yes, but along with being incredibly smart, sexy, intuitive, well-read and obviously articulate, Alan is pompous. He could have just said, “Cancer is bad, you must fight it. None of this liberal softy mushy crap. Fight, battle, destroy, take no prisoners.” But nooooooo, he had to go all Nietzsche on us and lay out a philosophical script for us to devour and enjoy. Hello! References to Mahatma?! I’m surprised Dr. King and Aristotle didn’t show up in that essay!
The original request was that we propose a non-violent way of describing this struggle. This is my response to that request only. I don’t agree with this approach, but I will submit to it. I wasn’t asked what I think. I was asked how to describe this in a non-violent way.
“realignment. Priorities, soul, self image, external view, even some flesh – all are getting realigned.
In business terms: an internal re-org.”
But since we’re on the subject, what I really think is that you must kick its ass. And don’t forget your advantages. This is not a struggle alone. You have an army to help you do it. From teams of specially trained doctors and technicians to teams of specially trained family and loved ones. You have the advantage. Use it.
With love, of course,
toni
With Cancer, I am not sure this is the time to be a pacifist. In fact, I think if ever there was a time to fight, this is it. I agree with jeanmarie–kick it right in the ass.
scruples pooples.
Just sing it, sister.
we all agree, it comes down to this. KICK ITS ASS sister sledge! KICK ITS ASS.