In the NY Times Sunday Review (August 28, 2011) there appears a powerful piece entitled “Cancer: Fighting Words” written by Daniel Menaker, a writer and recurrent cancer patient. http://www.nytimes.com/2011/08/28/opinion/sunday/cancer-fighting-words.html
As I read his words I reflected back upon my own treatment for prostate cancer two plus years ago, the eight weeks of radiation following it and how Barbara and I dealt with my diagnosis, surgery and follow-up treatment.
I should say up front that I am currently cancer free, which distinguishes me from Mr. Menaker and many other people with cancer. Though my tumor was high-grade (9 on the Gleason scale; 10 is the highest and almost always deadly; 9 is often deadly), I had the benefit of treatment from a surgeon and then a radiation oncologist both of whom are world-class. I was also watched over by my brother, Michael, a hematologist-oncologist on faculty and staff at UCLA. I was very lucky. Most people do not receive the quality of care I did.
When my pre-op biopsy revealed how bad my tumor was, I was terrified, imagined that it had spread and that I had only a couple of years of life left. My surgeon calmed me somewhat when he said, “John, yes – you have a very bad tumor, but there is a lot we can do, and we are going to bring out all the cannons to treat you!”
I was comforted by his reassurance and, strangely, by the military language he used. I needed to know in the strongest most combative language that I would survive. Thankfully, my fears were short-lived. After the surgery my doctor determined that the tumor had not spread and that I would be healed and live a normal life.
In contrast to Daniel Menaker and anyone with recurring cancer, I can understand why the military metaphors are disturbing. He quotes Dr. Andrew Weil as saying that conducting a personal “war” is “not the best way” to think of cancer. He also notes that “Cancer patients writing online and bloggers … deplored this linguistic habit.” One asked “Does it mean that if I croak it’s my fault?”
Mr. Menaker favors the ‘demilitarization’ of cancer rhetoric, and though it satisfied an emotional need in me in the initial period after diagnosis and before surgery when I did not know what I was facing, for those in long-term treatment I understand why it is better to regard cancer not as a ‘war’ with victors and vanquished, but as a “problem to be solved, or not solved.”
Thinking of oneself as a “victim” is not helpful to patients who need their inner reserves to remain hopeful and up-beat during treatment and over the long term. Most patients, dependent upon their physician’s protocols and treatment, just want to know that everything possible is being done to make them well.
For Daniel Menaker and others like him, I wish them r’fuah sh’leimah (complete recovery) as their disease is addressed, managed and, God willing, put into remission indefinitely.
John, your comments about a so-called “war” against cancer were honest, appropriate and – in my eyes – correct. I have come to actively dislike obituaries that read, “X passed away after a courageous battle against…” The implication is of a war that was lost, of a warrior who ran out of energy. The patient died because s/he lost. Cancer treatment in this country still is scarred by socio-economic variables. We can and should do better.
Thank you Rabbi Rosove for sharing your journey.
It is a fitting error for a Rabbi to use the word ‘canon’ where ‘cannon’ was intended.
Glad you came through this unhappy experience so well,
I am Rabbi John’s brother, a physician, and have been practicing medical oncology and hematology for over thirty years. Menaker’s article is very good–I don’t know why this hasn’t been written about in a prominent place like the New York Times before. And I agree Menaker. I’ve never been comfortable with the military language, and while I may have used it from time to time early in my career, I haven’t for many years. I had an experience with one patient maybe twenty or more years ago that convinced me. He had widely metastatic, incurable colon cancer, and at our first visit, he said defiantly, “I’m going to beat this thing.” I wanted to say, “No, you’re not, and it won’t help you to look at it that way. There’s a better way to see it.” But of course only a cruel person would have actually said the first part. But I also didn’t say, “Sure, you’re going to beat this thing.” In any event, that patient encounter smacked me with the pointlessness of the military jargon. And death is not defeat. Defeat can only be defined by our failings over which we might have had control.
This posting– personal, passionate, honest, hopeful without being naive– is but one indication of why John Rosove is one of the leading rabbis in America. I’m lucky to have Rabbi Rosove as a dear friend, Temple Israel of Hollywood is lucky to have him as their rabbi, and we’re all fortunate that he has now joined the world of blogging!