What is “non small lung cancer”? I am seeing the term all over these days, especially on those abhorrent TV ad disclaimers stating that if you take such-and-such a drug, you risk such minor side effects, like death.
The mother of our 20-year-old daughter is undergoing heavy chemo. I am not talking out of school. The wonderful writer and thinker, Betsy Howie, has been writing about it on Facebook, taking what I think is a unique tack. She does not speak of battling the disease, but rather that this is a negotiation with her body. We always hear about fighting cancer; this is a new approach.
It is most extraordinary how many women, after Betsy came forward, have come forward as well, with their stories of strength and resolve. Perhaps not extraordinary at all. Solidarity.
Here’s a thought. When JFK was elected president, he declared we were going to the moon. Three years later we landed, despite moon-landing deniers, whom I put into the same barrel of cobras with anti-vaxxers, Stop the Steal louts and guys like Dad of the Year Cruz shielding his kids away from the freezing cold in Texas and Fist-Raising Hawley, did you fashion yourself a Black Power Dude?, egging on (hey did anyone throw rotten eggs? probably not, they were too busy hurling projectiles against Capitol Hill windows as they continued their peaceful and normal “tour” of the Citadel of our democracy.)
(What’s happening at The Citadel these days? Are any of the women graduates advancing? Or was it all just window/shopping/dressing?)
Non small cell lung cancer. Non small, like in large?
John Wayne on the cover of the New York Post after his cancer operation: “I licked the Big C.”
Wayne, who had emptied enough bottles and filled up as many ash trays as anyone alive, was bragging.
But what if he had bragged, True-Grit style, at pressuring the government to find cures for the many types of The Big C.?
Back to the nation’s resolve. To the moon. Isn’t that where Jackie Gleason as the bus driver Ralph Kramden in “The Honeymooners” was going to send Alice Kramden (the incomparable Audrey Meadows)? Spousal abuse?
Maybe we need Gleason, almost always sucking on a cig.
A friend I spoke to today said that his wife is a 14-year fourth stage survivor. It can be done. This negotiation can work. But not without the science. Not without the moon-landing resolve.
Another friend speaks of her sister thinking of giving up chemo because it is just too much, after long and torturous struggles of backs and forths, taking advantage of Ontario, Canada’s program of Assisted Dying. Her partner, whom she was about to marry, is a strong Roman Catholic. John says, “I will always love you but I cannot assist.” It is his faith and you cannot deny him that strongest of belief.
Resolve. A few years back Joe Biden seemed to have that when he was going to tackle the Big C and punch it like he would have punched Schlumpf in the schoolyard. “I’ll beat him like a drum.”
Where are you, Joe (DiMaggio)? Hit it out of the park, Mr. Scranton. It could be your most lasting contribution.
Lonnie Carter is a writer who lives in Falls Village. Email him at lonniety@comcast.net., or go to his website at www.lonniecarter.com.
Why can’t we conquer the Big C?