I hate cancer.
Hate is a bad word, I know. My mother always got on to me
when I said I hated something or someone. We raise our children not to hate,
because hate is one of those harmful emotions and temperaments that threaten to
make us less than human. Of course, kids are prone to tantrum-throwing exaggeration
when it comes to hating. Lima beans, anyone?
But I am a cancer physician and I truly hate cancer. It is
insidious… evil… scary. I respect cancer
- like I respect a wild animal - but I still want to kill it.
I hate some things that cause cancer. Like smoking. I don't
hate the smoker, and – though some may disagree – I am not in your face about
smoking. I also discourage other lifestyle decisions or factors that increase
our risk of cancer (tanning, obesity, etc.). But I don't hate people. We are,
after all, human. And, I know all too well that I could be next to get cancer,
whether it is from something I did or did not do.
As a matter of fact, I fully expect to get diagnosed with
cancer. Perhaps you should, too. I'm not being morbid, just realistic. As a
man, all things being equal, my chance of developing invasive cancer at some
point in my lifetime is 42%. Women have a lifetime probability of 38%. Notice,
I did not say I fully expect to die from cancer. Today, the odds of surviving
cancer are well in my favor. The American Cancer Society reports that over the
past 3 decades, the 5-year relative survival rate for all cancers combined has
increased 20% among whites and 23% among blacks. Today, roughly 7 out of 10
cancer patients are cured.
Contrary to popular belief, the overall incidence of cancer
is declining. It may seem that more people we know are getting cancer, because
as we age our risk goes up. The principal reason for lower rates of cancer is
fewer people smoking. And the biggest factor of persistently elevated cancer
risk, especially in deep East Texas, is also smoking. East Texans still smoke
more than the rest of the state. I applaud Stephen F. Austin University for
their recent decision to join other college campuses in going smoke- and vape-free.
The current trend of vaping is a dangerous prelude to smoking for young people
and needs to be stopped dead in its tracks.
As I said, I do not hate people who have cancer. On the
contrary, I have a great deal of compassion for those diagnosed with cancer. Their
fighting spirit motivates me. I applaud the new American Cancer Society “Advantage
Humans” ad campaign highlighting traits that emerge with a diagnosis of cancer,
such as courage, defiance, and anger. The ads are positive but edgy, acknowledging
that raw emotions are real and battling cancer is tough.
Of course, preventing cancer – where we can – is still the
best option. How? Don’t smoke; vaccinate against human papillomavirus (HPV); don’t
tan; screen for colorectal and cervical cancer. Catch cancer early with
mammograms and low-dose CT for lung cancer. And treat cancer appropriately per
national guidelines such as those developed by the National Comprehensive
Cancer Network (NCCN). Go to www.cancer.org for tremendous resources, and stay
local for treatment where you have excellent facilities and the support of
family and friends.
It is ok to hate cancer. In a strange way, our humanity is
enhanced by hating what is evil (while also clinging to what is good, Romans
12:9). But use that hate constructively to motivate yourself to prevent, to fight,
to come together, and ultimately to win.
