As I observed last year, cancer is a social disease. That is to say, it has an impact far wider than the patient. This is true of all illnesses and injuries, of course. Anyone in pain or danger affects their matrix of family and friends. But there's a special horror to cancer. Almost in the Lovecraftian sense. My body is trying to kill me, literally, and the danger is completely sui generis. This isn't a bacterial or viral invasion, it's not trauma, it's not an external assault or a wounding. It's not a function of a perceived or actual misbehavior or self-maintenance on my part. It's me, attacking myself, at the most fundamental levels.
In that sense, cancer has more in common with diabetes or MS or CP or arthritis. All of those conditions can be crippling, literally or figuratively. Fatal even. But cancer has a hold on the popular imagination that is almost unrivaled. I have looked back over my own fiction and noted how many times I've used the disease as a character element or a plot device or backstory. I don't think I've ever written about diabetes or MS.
There's something terrible about growing your own monsters. A birthing of a potential death. But the hardest part of cancer, based on my experiences last year, is how it affects those around me. Seeing the desperate fear in my mother's eyes when the doctors brought me some of the worst news when I was in the hospital. Watching the misery of my friends. Cancer is not just attacking me, it's attacking everyone who knows or loves me.
We can fight back. We will. This isn't fatal. Hell, the liver problems aren't even fully diagnosed at this point. Other outcomes are possible. The polyps have returned, though, with their malignant little calling cards.
The bitch of this year's New Adventures in Cancer is the sense that it may never end. Now we know it comes back, like some brainless zombie in a B movie. Car accidents only happen once. In my life, and in the lives of those around me, springtime is in danger of becoming cancer season.
I'm going to kill this stupid bastard disease if it's the last thing I ever do.
|Originally published at jlake.com.|