Making Cancer A Priority
There is a hospital in Helena, Montana. I don’t remember which one. All I recall is it was cold, white and sterile. Hard. Emotionless. It was in this hospital where I first experienced cancer’s ravages as it ate away my father’s mother. Us grandchildren, milling around as if we were on a family vacation. Death and pain lurking in every shadow. On every floor and in every room.
I hate how families only get together in times of trauma or bliss.
Reunions filled with tears of sadness or happiness.
Funerals. Sickness. Weddings. Holidays.
My grandmother died of cancer. So did an aunt. A friend. I’ve known many others, survivors and the not so fortunate. Family members. Friends. Acquaintances. It seems that nobody can escape the wrath. Nobody can live life untouched by this disease.
A few years ago, I coauthored a short story collection, in which, all proceeds went to cancer research. A farm boy from Montana became a published author writing stories about the Montana hi-line and the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. I’m not sure if I believed that would ever happen. Still don’t. Yet, certain questions haunt me. Did my efforts make a difference? Should I do more? How many are still dying? I never told anybody this before.
But, I feel apprehensive that my career started on the name of a killer disease.
My only redemption is a lifelong dedication toward its eradication.
From 1997 to 2001, 976 out of every 100,000 white people developed cancer. 411 of them died. In that same time, 486 out of every 100,000 American Indians had cancer. 280 died. In women, the two racial groups combined for 195 cases and 40 deaths from breast cancer alone. In men, the two groups had 219 cases of prostate cancer with 49 deaths. Montana ranks 35th among all fifty states and Washington D.C. in cancer mortality rate. While in 2003, an estimated 4,600 Montanans were diagnosed with cancer, approximately 1,900 of them died. That is about 194 out of every 100,000 state residents. Nearly one-fourth died from lung cancer, which handily tops breast and prostate as the number one cancer killer of Montanans.
So what does this all mean?
The American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network advocates fighting on four discernible fronts. They include: supporting cancer research programs that prevent and detect cancer; expanding access to quality health care, prevention and awareness; reducing disparities in cancer prevention and treatment for all income levels, racial and ethnic minorities; and reduction of suffering from tobacco related illnesses, which kills 440,000 Americans and has related costs of over 150 million dollars a year.
Also points of interest are two bills currently in the House of Representatives - one cosponsored by MT Rep. Denny Rehberg - which concern the health of Americans. House bills H.R. 525 and S. 406, collectively known as The Small Business Health Fairness Act of 2005, are plans that allow small businesses to give access to health care by forming associations called Association Health Plans (AHPs). However, these plans leave opportunities for the associations to get around state laws, which require access to cancer screenings, preventive methods and treatment. Mandated screenings such as colonoscopies and mammograms would be endangered if this legislation passes. Contacting the three members of Montana’s congressional delegation and voicing your disapproval would be a good start. Tell them fighting cancer should be a national priority.
But all of that is peripheral to the real issue.
Making cancer a personal priority.
In the end, the best path to beating cancer is the devolution down to each individual. We all must accept personal responsibility. Keep yourself informed. Watch your diet. Exercise. Set up regular screenings with your doctor. Choose a healthy lifestyle, not just for you, but for all of those in your life. You don’t want your children and grandchildren to be milling around a cold, white, sterile hospital, watching you writhe in pain, becoming a shell of your former self. It isn’t worth it. So forgive me for painting a harsh picture, I’m merely haunted by those questions and yearning for my redemption. It turns out, I have another aunt stricken by cancer. Another loved one to hope and pray for. It could happen to anybody. None of this is fair. So if you think that I’m trying to scare you. That I’m over-the-top and overly concerned.
You’re right.
You should be, too.
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Bill Wetzel is the coauthor of “The Acorn Gathering: Writers Uniting Against Cancer.” This column first appeared on his web log located at :
http://www.livejournal.com/users/billwetzel/