I am basically stealing a post today from a blog that I have been following all summer, "But Doctor ... I Hate Pink!" The fabulous writer behind this blog used the words of author Christopher Hitchins, who comments on his recent cancer diagnosis in the new issue Vanity Fair magazine (and if you don't know who Hitchins is, make sure you look him up! His controversial book The Missionary Position: Mother Teresa in Theory and Practice is fabulous!):
Just a taste:
The oncology bargain is that, in return for at least the chance of a few more useful years, you agree to submit to chemotherapy and then, if you are lucky with that, to radiation or even surgery. So here’s the wager: you stick around for a bit, but in return we are going to need some things from you. These things may include your taste buds, your ability to concentrate, your ability to digest, and the hair on your head. This certainly appears to be a reasonable trade. Unfortunately, it also involves confronting one of the most appealing clichés in our language. You’ve heard it all right. People don’t have cancer: they are reported to be battling cancer. No well-wisher omits the combative image: You can beat this. It’s even in obituaries for cancer losers, as if one might reasonably say of someone that they died after a long and brave struggle with mortality.
If interested, click on this sentence to read the entire article!