My Claws are Out
I wrote the below post a few weeks ago. I was, and still am, angry after witnessing a dear friend experience chemo-induced trauma. I have thought a great deal about whether or not to post it.
Obviously, I decided to send it out because this is part of my journey as well, and I wanted to share it here. Thank you for allowing me to share my mind on a subject that is so important to me.
Cancer - Sugar Coats, Smiley Faces, Silly Pink Ribbons, and Fight, Fight, Fight!
Cancer is not the enemy. Pink ribbons are not the guns. Chemotherapy is not a therapy. It is a gladiator sport. Radiation is just plain bizarre. I really don’t get it.
Something is wrong somewhere. Something happened to the medical profession and the pharmaceutical industry, and they took the wrong path. I don’t think anybody meant harm, but something just went wrong.
Women and men are being tortured by their own choosing because they think that they have no other choice. The odd thing is that the doctors think they are doing the right things by prescribing and performing the tortures. Nobody is evil; something just went wrong.
Surviving cancer is a competitive sport. It isn’t the cancer that is being survived; it is the treatment. The treatment is not much better than bloodletting was long ago. I expect that I am being too harsh, but maybe I’m not; who really knows?
I do not want to be a fighter. I am not interested in fighting battles. My body is not a war zone. If I want to be a war hero, I will join the military.
I admit that I sound angry, and I am angry. It feels bizarre to feel perfectly healthy and then one day, an image on a screen shows something odd. The next thing you know is that you have a diagnosis and you become deathly ill. It feels surreal. My brain, my mind, my heart, my body does not understand why they must be hacked, stabbed, burned inside and out. It doesn’t make good sense to treat our most precious possession in this way. The strange thing is we submit to it. We allow it to happen. We beg for it in some cases. I am having a very difficult time wrapping my head around why we do this; do we really know these “treatments” are actually doing any good over the long term?
Something is terribly wrong with this picture, and it is pretty clear that nobody knows what it is. I believe cancer is a symptom of a very sick planet. Cancer needs to be prevented, not cured. When we come to understand that we are indiscriminately hacking at the planet and draining it of its life-giving resources, then we might understand the huge mistake we have been making by tearing our bodies down. We need to allow the planet to recover. We need to help the planet to heal. Our bodies will heal as the planet heals and refuels. In the meantime, we sit by and watch all of the hair on our bodies fall out. We get so sick that we wish we were dead. Our fingernails fall off and our brains can’t think.
Our bodies are scarred not only by the cancer, but also the treatment. Subsequent cancers may be caused by the treatment itself. There must be a better way. I know there is a better way, but it is yet to be revealed. It feels to me that we are looking in all the wrong places and for all the wrong reasons. I do not have the answer, but I know there is one; there will be one. We can find it if we can stop fighting long enough; when we stop sugar coating the trauma and damage being done to our bodies and our planet. The Earth has cancer and it is showing up in our bodies, our oceans, rivers, lakes, mountains, and air. When we face the fact that humans are the carcinogens, then we will know that the true treatment is walking gently, speaking softly, and being conscious that each one of us can choose to be a malignant cell or one that is vibrant and whose purpose is to create beauty not destroy it. We are the cancer, and we are the treatment.