Chemotherapy Quotes

Writing isn't a source of pain. It's psychic chemotherapy. It reduces your psychological tumors and relieves your pain.

An oncology ward is a battlefield, and there are definite hierarchies of command. The patients, they're the ones doing the tour of duty. The doctors breeze in and out like conquering heroes, but they need to read your child's chart to remember where they've left off from the previous visit. It is the nurses who are the seasoned sergeants -- the ones who are there when your baby is shaking with such a high fever she needs to be bathed in ice, the ones who can teach you how to flush a central venous catheter, or suggest which patient floor might still have Popsicles left to be stolen, or tell you which dry cleaners know how to remove the stains of blood and chemotherapies from clothing. The nurses know the name of your daughter's stuffed walrus and show her how to make tissue paper flowers to twine around her IV stand. The doctors may be mapping out the war games, but it is the nurses who make the conflict bearable.

I’ve tried to imagine how she’d feel knowing that her cells went up in the first space missions to see what would happen to human cells in zero gravity, or that they helped with some of the most important advances in medicine: the polio vaccine, chemotherapy, cloning, gene mapping, in vitro fertilization. I’m pretty sure that she—like most of us—would be shocked to hear that there are trillions more of her cells growing in laboratories now than there ever were in her body.

I have heard one doctor call high-protein, high-fat, low-carbohydrate diets “make-yourself-sick” diets, and I think that’s an appropriate moniker. You can also lose weight by undergoing chemotherapy or starting a heroin addiction, but I wouldn’t recommend those, either.

She wished she had cancer instead. She'd trade Alzheimer's for cancer in a heartbeat. She felt ashamed for wishing this, and it was certainly a pointless bargaining, but she permitted herself the fantasy anyway. With cancer, she'd have something to fight. There was surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy. There was the chance that she could win. Her family and the community at Harvard would rally behind her battle and consider it noble. And even if it defeated her in the end, she'd be able to look them knowingly in the eye and say good-bye before she left.

It's like they say about soldiers coming back from war. People all around you are dying. Really dying, Eric. You go in for a week's chemotherapy and you're in a ward with people who are really, actually dying, there and then and doing their best to come to terms with it. When the week's up, you go home and you see your family and your friends and everything's normal and familiar. It's too much. You think - one world can't possibly hold both these lives and you feel like you're going to go crazy when you realise the world is that big and it can fill with the most terrible things whenever it wants to.

I love the imagery of struggle. I sometimes wish I were suffering in a good cause, or risking my life for the good of others, instead of just being a gravely endangered patient. Allow me to inform you, though, that when you sit in a room with a set of other finalists, and kindly people bring a huge transparent bag of poison and plug it into your arm, and you either read or don't read a book while the venom sack gradually empties itself into your system, the image of the ardent solider is the very last one that will occur to you. You feel swamped with passivity and impotence: dissolving in powerlessness like a sugar lump in water.

Every lawyer shall tell his or her client that becoming involved with the legal system is like three years of experimental chemotherapy, one hundred percent guaranteed not to work.

But if you needed to HAVE AN IDEA, boredom could be to a roadblocked novel what chemotherapy was to a cancer patient.

making some types of errors is the most rational thing to do, when the errors are of little cost, as they lead to discoveries. For instance, most medical “discoveries”are accidental to something else. An error-free world would have no penicillin, no chemotherapy…almost no drugs, and most probably no humans. This is why I have been against the state dictating to us what we “should”be doing: only evolution knows if the “wrong”thing is really wrong, provided there is skin in the game to allow for selection.

If it’s all true, then we’re in the citadel of unbelief, where nightmares are dispatched with Lysol and scalpels and chemotherapy rather than with stakes and Bibles and wild mountain thyme.

And all I could do while I listened to this dude tell me how punk rock saved his life was think, Wow. Why did my friend waste all that time going to chemotherapy? I guess we should have just played him a bunch of shitty Black Flag records.

A landmark 2010 study from the Massachusetts General Hospital had even more startling findings. The researchers randomly assigned 151 patients with stage IV lung cancer, like Sara’s, to one of two possible approaches to treatment. Half received usual oncology care. The other half received usual oncology care plus parallel visits with a palliative care specialist. These are specialists in preventing and relieving the suffering of patients, and to see one, no determination of whether they are dying or not is required. If a person has serious, complex illness, palliative specialists are happy to help. The ones in the study discussed with the patients their goals and priorities for if and when their condition worsened. The result: those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer. In other words, our decision making in medicine has failed so spectacularly that we have reached the point of actively inflicting harm on patients rather than confronting the subject of mortality.

Behind the ticket counter stood a man as skinny as a soaked poodle. He sported a shirt of swatch-sized plaid and a blond ponytail that, unless destined for a chemotherapy patient, should have been immediately chopped off, buried in an unmarked grave, and never spoken of again. Hipsterdom's a tightrope strung across the canyon of douche-baggery. He clung by a finger.

isn’t a source of pain. It’s psychic chemotherapy. It reduces your psychological tumors and relieves your pain.

This is from "Marabou Stork Nightmares". Bernard's Poem: Did you see her on the telly the other day good family entertainment the tabloids say But when you're backstage at your new faeces audition you hear the same old shite of your own selfish volition She was never a singer a comic or a dancer I cant say I was sad when I found out she had cancer Great Britain's earthy northern comedy queen takes the rand, understand from the racist Boer regime So now her cells are fucked and thats just tough titty I remember her act that I caught back in Sun City She went on and on about 'them from the trees with different skull shapes from the likes of you and me' Her Neo-Nazi spell it left me fucking numb the Boers lapped it up with zeal so did the British ex-pat scum But what goes round comes round they say so welcome to another dose of chemotherapy And for my part it's time to be upfront so fuck off and die you carcinogenic cunt.

It reminded Lacy of running into someone you hadn't seen for a while, and finding her bald and missing her eyebrows: you knew she was in the throes of chemotherapy, but pretended you didn't, because it was easier that way for both of you.

Cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy need only one hour of animal-assisted therapy a week to see their depression and anxiety reduced by half.

Writing isn’t a source of pain. It’s psychic chemotherapy. It reduces your psychological tumors and relieves your pain.

The first time around, she’d done the surgeries, the radiation, the chemotherapy. She’d lost her hair, lost her appetite and her energy, lost her left breast and six months of her life.

The result: those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer. In other words, our decision making in medicine has failed so spectacularly that we have reached the point of actively inflicting harm on patients rather than confronting the subject of mortality. If end-of-life discussions were an experimental drug, the FDA would approve it.

If you avoid the killer diseases and keep the degenerative ones under control with sensible diet and exercise and whatever chemotherapy you need to stay in balance, you can live nearly forever.

many of my patients continued to smoke, often furtively, during their treatment for cancer (I could smell the acrid whiff of tobacco on their clothes as they signed the consent forms for chemotherapy).

She described her new treatment with a topical chemotherapy that came in the form of a potent cream that she applied, wearing gloves, to burn off the cancerous areas—then she produced a package of the stuff from the bathroom so I could see how mundane this lifesaving medication looked. I blinked in disbelief as she held up what resembled a tube of toothpaste, and explained that each one cost over two thousand dollars. Or that’s what it would cost, if not for the insurance she had purchased through the health insurance exchanges that had been set up as part of Obamacare. I thought—and spoke—of that moment often, later, as I talked about why health policy was not a theoretical question for our family.

Surgery, clamps, sutures, bandages, antibiotics Mop Sucking chest wound Anesthesia, surgery Cork Cancer Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery Casket wreath* 13 Diabetes Insulin Leeches* 14 Hatchet embedded in skull Removal of hatchet, treatment of wound Larger hat Eyes gouged out in hospital by psychopath posing as nurse Prosthetic eyeballs, therapy Six-pack Source:

One day in my pharmacology class, we were discussing the possibility of legalizing marijuana. The class was pretty evenly divided between those that advocated legalizing marijuana and those that did not. The professor said he wanted to hear from a few people on both sides of the argument. A couple students had the opportunity to stand in front of the class and present their arguments. One student got up and spoke about how any kind of marijuana use was morally wrong and how nobody in the class could give him any example of someone who needed marijuana. A small girl in the back of the classroom raised her hand and said that she didn’t want to get up, but just wanted to comment that there are SOME situations in which people might need marijuana. The same boy from before spoke up and said that she needed to back up her statements and that he still stood by the fact that there wasn’t anyone who truly needed marijuana. The same girl in the back of the classroom slowly stood up. As she raised her head to look at the boy, I could physically see her calling on every drop of confidence in her body. She told us that her husband had cancer. She started to tear up, as she related how he couldn’t take any of the painkillers to deal with the radiation and chemotherapy treatments. His body was allergic and would have violent reactions to them. She told us how he had finally given in and tried marijuana. Not only did it help him to feel better, but it allowed him to have enough of an appetite to get the nutrients he so desperately needed. She started to sob as she told us that for the past month she had to meet with drug dealers to buy her husband the only medicine that would take the pain away. She struggled every day because according to society, she was a criminal, but she was willing to do anything she could to help her sick husband. Sobbing uncontrollably now, she ran out of the classroom. The whole classroom sat there in silence for a few minutes. Eventually, my professor asked, “Is there anyone that thinks this girl is doing something wrong?” Not one person raised their hand.

Can any of us pinpoint the moment when we've lost our younger selves, lost joy in the simple things, stopped celebrating life? For years-decades-we work, raise a family, plant begonias. Then one day we wake up to chemotherapy and eulogies and nursing home visits and the realization that we haven't had a real vacation in years. And all we can do is ask: how did life get so hard?

By not talking about death with our loved ones, not being clear through advanced directives, DNR (do not resuscitate) orders, and funeral plans, we are directly contributing to this future ... and a rather bleak present, at that. Rather than engage in larger societal discussions about dignified ways for the terminally ill to end their lives, we accept intolerable cases like that of Angelita, a widow in Oakland who covered her head with a plastic bag because the arthritic pain of her gnarled joints was too much to bear. Or that of Victor in Los Angeles, who hung himself from the rafters of his apartment after his third unsuccessful round of chemotherapy, leaving his son to discover his body. Or the countless bodies with decubitus ulcers, more painful for me to care for them even babies or suicides. When these bodies come into the funeral home, I can only offer my sympathy to their living relatives, and promise to work to ensure that more people are not robbed of a dignified death by a culture of silence.

Every drug, the sixteenth-century physician Paracelsus once opined, is a poison in disguise. Cancer chemotherapy, consumed by its fiery obsession to obliterate the cancer cell, found its roots in the obverse logic: every poison might be a drug in disguise.

They also received much less aggressive care at the end of their lives, with fewer rounds of chemotherapy and longer hospice stays. But the researchers were surprised to find something else. The palliative care group survived for an average of 11.6 months, compared to 8.9 months for the control group.30

Mihalovic and other critics claim that chemotherapy, in actuality, boosts cancer growth and long-term mortality rates by destroying the immune system, increasing neurocognitive decline, disrupting endocrine functioning, and causing organ and metabolic toxicities. Patients basically live in a permanent state of disease until their death.

One recent experiment, for instance, demonstrated that people who died shortly after undergoing chemotherapy decomposed far more slowly than what I’d since begun to think of as “organic” or “all natural” bodies. Chemotherapy, in other words, bore more than a passing resemblance to antemortem embalming, which was not a particularly comforting notion.

Why does chemo always have side effects like sickness and hair loss? Why not 'invisibility' or 'spontaneous orgasms'?

Don't delegate your survival to the doctors and hope for the best. You have to participate in your own cure. You have to fight.

Toxic parents make everything about them—your triumphs, your losses, the day you give birth, a family funeral, the day you go in to get chemotherapy.

I stared at it for so long, wondering why some people are saved by miracles and others aren't. Why chemotherapy works for some but didn't work for my mom.

You wouldn’t believe all the nice people I’ve met at chemotherapy,” she

The result: those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer.

One interesting quality of NSCs is that they naturally gravitate toward any brain tumor. What if, our team wondered, they could be tweaked to deliver chemotherapy selectively to the cancer while sparing the rest of the brain?

Kent Myers was an asshole. We had the unfortunate pleasure of sitting across from each other at our chemotherapy appointments. Or as Kent liked to call it, ‘Fuck this bullshit in the fucking ass.’ He had a way with words. He always gave the nurses a hard time, calling them dumbasses when they missed his veins for the IVs. He called one nurse Susie, even though his name was Steven. He called me the annoyingly positive cancer girl who quoted dead people.

Are you scared?” “Of what?” “Dying.” Jemma was nothing, if she was not blunt. “I’m not expecting to die, Jemma. I’m expecting to have treatment, chemotherapy, radiotherapy, whatever it takes, but I’m expecting to come through this.

Mutations litter the chromosomes. In individual specimens of breast and colon cancer, between fifty to eighty genes are mutated; in pancreatic cancers, about fifty to sixty. Even brain cancers, which often develop at earlier ages and hence may be expected to accumulate fewer mutations, possess about forty to fifty mutated genes. Only a few cancers are notable exceptions to this rule, possessing relatively few mutations across the genome. One of these is an old culprit, acute lymphoblastic leukemia: only five or ten genetic alterations cross its otherwise pristine genomic landscape.* Indeed, the relative paucity of genetic aberrancy in this leukemia may be one reason that this tumor is so easily felled by cytotoxic chemotherapy. Scientists speculate that genetically simple tumors (i.e., those carrying few mutations) might inherently be more susceptible to drugs, and thus intrinsically more curable. If so, the strange discrepancy between the success of high-dose chemotherapy in curing leukemia and its failure to cure most other cancers has a deep biological explanation. The search for a “universal cure” for cancer was predicated on a tumor that, genetically speaking, is far from universal. In

The poison that is war does not free us from the ethics of responsibility. There are times when we must take this poison - just as a person with cancer accepts chemotherapy to live. We can not succumb to despair. Force is and I suspect always will be part of the human condition. There are times when the force wielded by one immoral faction must be countered by a faction that, while never moral, is perhaps less immoral. We in the industrialized world bear responsibility for the world’s genocides because we had the power to intervene and did not. We stood by and watched the slaughter in Chechnya, Sri Lanka, Sierra Leone, Liberia, and Rwanda where a million people died. The blood for the victims of Srebrenica- a designated UN safe area in Bosnia- is on our hands. The generation before mine watched, with much the same passivity, the genocides of Germany, Poland, Hungary, Greece, and the Ukraine. These slaughters were, as in, Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s book Chronical of a Death Foretold, often announced in advance

I already knew the incredible profits in chemotherapy, and how those profits led to an insidious push for that treatment: when patients suggested another approach, physicians could be condescending, dismissing alternatives as risky, unproven, even quackery.

Science is not designed to give us morals. It can help us build chemical weapons and chemotherapy drugs, but it cannot tell us whether and when to use them. As we saw in the last chapter, science cannot ground the belief that human beings should be valued equally.

The cancer pavilion is a cruel democracy of appearance: the same bald head, the same devastated complexion, the same steroid-swollen face, the same plastic chemotherapy port visible as a lump under your skin. The old seem infantile, the young act senile, the middle-aged find all that is middle-aged about them disappears.

it was violent and needy. It was a cancer, spreading inside my body, multiplying into hundreds and thousands of new cells with every beat of my heart. No chemotherapy, no miracle cure. Every heartbeat, I slipped a little more. Drowned a little deeper. Fell a little further into the bottomless ocean of feelings for him. I

sutures, bandages, antibiotics Mop Sucking chest wound Anesthesia, surgery Cork Cancer Chemotherapy, radiation, surgery Casket wreath* 13 Diabetes Insulin Leeches* 14 Hatchet embedded in skull Removal of hatchet, treatment of wound Larger hat Eyes gouged out in hospital by psychopath posing as nurse Prosthetic eyeballs, therapy Six-pack Source:

They say the Lord never gives us more than we can bear. This is only true of money and cleavage.

Well, at least you'll get some down time to heal up before the chemo. Of course, that sounds kind of like in The Princess Bride when they heal Westley up before they torture him.

Disobey God and you are forgiven. Disobey Nature and you get disease.

An unhealthy life is destined to end with an unhealthy death.

Cancer is a fight to the death. Either you kill it, or it will kill you. Get ready to brawl.

The cure for HIV?” “In 2007, a man named Timothy Ray Brown, known later as the Berlin patient, was cured of HIV. Brown was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. His HIV-positive status complicated his treatment. During chemotherapy, he battled sepsis, and his physicians had to explore less traditional approaches. His hematologist, Dr. Gero Hutter, decided on a stem cell therapy: a full bone marrow transplant. Hutter actually passed over the matched bone marrow donor for a donor with a specific genetic mutation: CCR5-Delta 32. CCR5-Delta 32 makes cells immune to HIV.” “Incredible.” “Yes. At first, we thought the Delta 32 mutation must have arisen during the Black Death in Europe—about four to sixteen percent of Europeans have at least one copy. But we’ve traced it back further. We thought perhaps smallpox, but we’ve found Bronze Age DNA samples that carry it. The mutation’s origins are a mystery, but one thing is certain: the bone marrow transplant with CCR5-Delta 32 cured both Brown’s leukemia and HIV. After the transplant, he stopped taking his antiretrovirals and has never again tested positive for HIV.

It is never lost on me that the women in the waiting room have had to walk past these protesters, too. Even if they were escorted to the door by a cheerful young pro-choice activist with bright pink hair who carries a protective rainbow umbrella, they’ve heard the vitriol—different from the insults hurled at me, but no less offensive. “Think twice!” “Don’t murder your baby!” The antis shout these things, as if these women had not minds of their own. As if their decision fails to merit respect. As if they were not, as most of them are, adults exercising a legal right to make a private health-care decision for themselves. (Imagine, if you will, these verbal assaults being hurled at any other person for having made any other consequential health-care choice: the decision to pursue a potentially fatal course of chemotherapy, for example. “Don’t risk your life! Suicide!”)

Both women were mothers of children caught up in mind control cover-up, one of which paralleled Kelly’s and my case. She, too, had volumes of documents and evidences whereby it was inexcusable that justice had not prevailed. The other mother conveyed a story that touched me so deeply it undoubtedly will continue to motivate me with reverberating passion forever. This mother was very weak from the final stages of cancer and chemotherapy, and tears slid down her pale gray cheeks as she told me her story. When she reported sexual abuse of her three daughters, the local court system took custody of them. The children appeared dissociative identity disordered from their ordeal, yet were reportedly denied therapy and placed in Foster care “since the mother was dying anyway.” When she finally was granted brief visitation with her precious daughters, they looked dazed and robotic with no memory of her or their sexual abuse. Mind control was apparent to this mother, and she struggled to give voice to their plight to no avail. She explained how love and concern for her children had kept her alive far longer than her doctors thought possible. She embraced me and said, “Now I can die in peace knowing that you are out there talking, raising awareness with the same passion for justice and love for children that I have. Thank you. Please keep talking. Please remember my daughters.

We do not consider the many causes of weight loss. We don’t remember troubling weight loss is sometimes prompted by grief from a breakup, divorce, or death. We don’t think about weight loss caused by cancer or chemotherapy. We don’t consider that the person in front of us might be going through a medical crisis, their weight loss a sign of abrupt and troubling change rather than hard-fought victory. And we don’t consider that weight loss is sometimes linked to declining mental health or a new wave of disordered eating. In our eagerness to compliment what we assume is desired weight loss, many of us end up congratulating restrictive eating disorders, grief, and trauma in the process, revealing that we are in a constant state of surveillance, monitoring and assessing the bodies of those around us. We keep our disappointment and displeasure quiet, revealing our disapproval of fatness only in our celebration of thinness.

The most important aim of cancer treatment is to achieve cure and secondly life prolongation and relief of sufferings. We must understand the mechanisms of how cancer develops and progresses to unlock new ways to prevent, detect and treat it.

[Ruth Bader] Ginsburg, the former women's rights advocate, made sure the nation knew she was there, even if alone. When President Obama addressed a joint session of Congress for the first time in February 2009, Ginsburg was recovering from pancreatic cancer and chemotherapy treatments, but she dragged herself to the evening event and sat with her brethren. She said she wanted to make sure that people watching the nationally televised address saw that the Supreme Court had at least one woman.

For more than twenty years I have offered a very simple yet powerful ritual to people before their radiation, chemotherapy, or surgery. I suggest they meet together with some of their closest friends and family the day before their procedure. Before this meeting, I suggest they find an ordinary stone, a piece of the earth, big enough to fit in the palm of their hand, and bring it to the meeting with them. The ritual begins by having everyone sit in a circle. In any order they wish to speak, each person tells the story of a time when they too faced a crisis. People may talk about the death of important persons, the loss of jobs or of relationships, or even about their own illnesses. The person who is speaking holds the stone the patient has brought. When they finish telling their story of survival, they take a moment to reflect on the personal quality that they feel helped them come through that difficult time. People will say things such as, 'What brought me through was determination,' 'What brought me through was faith,' 'What brought me through was humor.' When they have named the quality of their strength, they speak directly to the person preparing for surgery or treatment, saying, 'I put determination into this stone for you,' or, 'I put faith into this stone for you.' After everyone has spoken the stone is given back to the patient, who takes it with them to the hospital, to keep nearby and hold in their hand when things get hard. In an environment which is highly technical and sterile, it connects them to the earth and to each other.

Take Avastin, the world’s best-selling cancer medicine, with sales of $6 billion in 2010. It is used for the treatment of advanced cancers of the colon, breast, lung, and kidney, among others. An analysis of sixteen trials with more than ten thousand people showed that when Avastin was added to chemotherapy, more people died than when receiving chemotherapy alone.35 Thus, not only did the drug fail to prolong lives of hopeful patients for a few weeks or months, it in fact shortened them. Given the huge amount of money at stake for the pharmaceutical industry (Avastin treatment

When we encounter hardship, if God doesn't answer our first prayer-and our first prayer is almost always, "God, please take away the pain"-then we can pray: "Okay then, Lord, please use the pain for your purposes. Put me into ministry with others who need to know your comfort." We can pray, "I wish I had a job, but use me this week in the unemployment line"; "I pray for a relief of my loneliness, but use me to reach out to refugees who may be far lonelier than I"; "I'm praying that you will heal this cancer, but if you don't, please use me this week at my chemotherapy treatment.."7

These days, the cancer cells often need another mutation to thrive: one that will outwit the chemotherapy or radiotherapy to which the cancer is subjected. Somewhere in the body, one of the cancer cells happens to acquire a mutation that defeats the drug. As the rest of the cancer dies away, the descendants of this rogue cell gradually begin to multiply, and the cancer returns. Heartbreakingly, this is what happens all too often in the treatment of cancer: initial success followed by eventual failure. It’s an evolutionary arms race. The more we understand genomics, the more it confirms evolution.

It’s true, organic food is more expensive to grow, and we have to be willing to pay for it. Some people see that as a luxury. I always come back to the same question: Would we rather give our money to the farmer or the pharmacist, the grocer or the doctor? Do we want to spend a fortune in the future trying to fix the damage being done today? Once we compare the potential risk and reward, the extra cost of eating clean food may seem worth it. Eating is the single most important thing we can do to stay healthy. If good, clean food isn’t worth our money, what is? Organic blackberries cost double the normal kind? How does that compare to the price of chemotherapy? How does burning out your insides with toxic chemicals and destroying your immune system and puking out your guts and losing all your hair stack up against spending three dollars more on that organic produce? Your body responds to what you put inside it. It’s simple. How could anything else be possible? You’d accept that if we were talking about your car. Why not your body? Clean also means food that contains no genetically modified organisms—GMOs. This is the really scary stuff, and it’s in the news every day as the big corporations fight every effort to label engineered foods. The fact that the industry is against truth in labeling tells us all we need to know.

War means endless waiting, endless boredom. There is no electricity, so no television. You can't read. You can't see friends. You grow depressed but there is no treatment for it and it makes no sense to complain — everyone is as badly off as you. It's hard to fall in love, or rather, hard to stay in love. If you are a teenager, you seem halted in time. If you are critically ill — with cancer, for instance — there is no chemotherapy for you. If you can't leave the country for treatment, you stay and die slowly, and in tremendous pain. Victorian diseases return — polio, typhoid and cholera. You see very sick people around you who seemed in perfectly good health when you last saw them during peacetime. You hear coughing all the time. Everyone hacks — from the dust of destroyed buildings, from disease, from cold. As for your old world, it disappears, like the smoke from a cigarette you can no longer afford to buy. Where are your closest friends? Some have left, others are dead. The few who remain have nothing new to talk about. You can't get to their houses, because the road is blocked by checkpoints. Or snipers take a shot when you leave your door, so you scurry back inside, like a crab retreating inside its shell. Or you might go out on the wrong day and a barrel bomb, dropped by a government helicopter, lands near you. Wartime looks like this.

Steve Harmon, thirty-six, had esophageal cancer growing at the inlet of his stomach. For six months, he had soldiered through chemotherapy as if caught in a mythical punishment cycle devised by the Greeks. He was debilitated by perhaps the severest forms of nausea that I had ever encountered in a patient, but he had to keep eating to avoid losing weight. As the tumor whittled him down week by week, he became fixated, absurdly, on the measurement of his weight down to a fraction of an ounce, as if gripped by the fear that he might vanish altogether by reaching zero. Meanwhile, a growing retinue of family members accompanied him to his clinic visits: three children who came with games and books and watched, unbearably, as their father shook with chills one morning; a brother who hovered suspiciously, then accusingly, as we shuffled and reshuffled medicines to keep Steve from throwing up; a wife who bravely shepherded the entire retinue through the whole affair as if it were a family trip gone horribly wrong. One morning, finding Steve alone on one of the reclining chairs of the infusion room, I asked him whether he would rather have the chemotherapy alone, in a private room. Was it, perhaps, too much for his family—for his children? He looked away with a flicker of irritation. “I know what the statistics are.” His voice was strained, as if tightening against a harness. “Left to myself, I would not even try. I’m doing this because of the kids.

It reminds me of a girl I once knew who was dying of cancer. I visited her in the hospital and did not recognize her; sitting up in her bed she looked like a little old hairless man. From the chemotherapy she had swollen up like a great grape. From the cancer and the therapy she had become virtually blind, nearly deaf, underwent constant seizures, and when I bent close to her to ask her how she felt she answered, when she could understand my question, "I feel that God is healing me." She had been religiously inclined and had planned to go into a religious order. On the metal stand beside her bed she had, or someone had, laid out her rosary. In my opinion a FUCK YOU, GOD sign would have been appropriate; the rosary was not.

My head is burning again this morning. I am starting to get used to it and see it as a glow. The head weighs fourteen pounds or thereabouts. Today, mine feels like a giant sunflower perched on top of a slender, swaying reed. It is odd to me how an easy day like yesterday is followed by another like today. I stay with discomfort, and pause to rest the lids of my eyes, my head on its stem.

At the outset I must confess that I am no longer very good at telling the difference between good things and bad things. Of course there are many events in human history that can only be labeled as evil, but from the standpoint of inner individual experience the distinction has become blurred for me. Some things start out looking great but wind up terribly, while other things seem bad in the beginning but turn out to be blessings in disguise. I was diagnosed with cancer in 1995, which I thought was a bad thing. But the experience brought me closer to God and to my loved ones than I'd ever been, and that was wonderfully good. The chemotherapy felt awful, but it resulted in a complete cure, which I decided was good. I later found out it may also have caused the heart disease that now has me waiting for a heart transplant. At some point I gave up trying to decide what's ultimately good or bad. I truly do not know....Although not knowing may itself seem like a bad thing, I am convinced it is one of the great gifts of the dark night of the soul. To be immersed in mystery can be very distressing at first, but over time I have found immense relief in it. It takes the pressure off. I no longer have to worry myself to death about what I did right or wrong to cause a good or bad experience-because there really is no way of knowing. I don't have to look for spiritual lessons in every trouble that comes along. There have been many spiritual lessons to be sure, but they've given to me in the course of life; I haven't had to figure out a single one.

Unfortunately, cancer is the second most leading cause of death in India. Not all cancers can be categorized as chronic, Some cancers are considered very low-risk, but those that are ongoing and can be watched and treated do become classified as chronic. Cancers such as ovarian, chronic leukemias, some lymphomas, and even some cancers that have spread or come back like metastatic breast or prostate also become chronic cancers

During my studies with the shamans I found that there is a difference between curing and healing. Curing is remedial and involves fixing whatever outer problem arises, such as patching a tire if you have a flat, or treating a snakebite, or using chemotherapy to control a tumor. It does not help you avoid the nails on the road, the snakes in the woods, or the disease that caused the tumor. Healing is broader, more global, and complete. Healing transforms one's life, and often, though not always, produces a physical cure. I have seen many medical cures in which healing did not occur. I have also seen instances in which there was great healing but the patient passed away. Healing results from an experience of infinity. While healing, we measure success by increased well-being, by a sense of newfound peace, empowerment, and a feeling of communion with all life.

When Franklin D. Roosevelt signed the Social Security Act in 1935, old age was defined as sixty-five years, yet estimated life expectancy in the United States at the time was sixty-one years for males and sixty-four years for females.62 A senior citizen today, however, can expect to live eighteen to twenty years longer. The downside is that he or she also should expect to die more slowly. The two most common causes of death in 1935 America were respiratory diseases (pneumonia and influenza) and infectious diarrhea, both of which kill rapidly. In contrast, the two most common causes of death in 2007 America were heart disease and cancer (each accounted for about 25 percent of total deaths). Some heart attack victims die within minutes or hours, but most elderly people with heart disease survive for years while coping with complications such as high blood pressure, congestive heart failure, general weakness, and peripheral vascular disease. Many cancer patients also remain alive for several years following their diagnosis because of chemo-therapy, radiation, surgery, and other treatments. In addition, many of the other leading causes of death today are chronic illnesses such as asthma, Alzheimer’s, type 2 diabetes, and kidney disease, and there has been an upsurge in the occurrence of nonfatal but chronic illnesses such as osteoarthritis, gout, dementia, and hearing loss.63 Altogether, the growing prevalence of chronic illness among middle-aged and elderly individuals is contributing to a health-care crisis because the children born during the post–World War II baby boom are now entering old age, and an unprecedented percentage of them are suffering from lingering, disabling, and costly diseases. The term epidemiologists coined for this phenomenon is the “extension of morbidity.

Chemotherapy drugs are blunt instruments. Some are more precisely targeted than others, but many simply interrupt cell division in general. The reason that this selectively kills cancer cells, instead of harming the patient and the cancer equally, is that cancer cells are dividing all the time, whereas most normal cells divide only occasionally. Some human cells do divide constantly. The most rapidly dividing cells are found in the bone marrow, the factory that produces blood. Bone marrow is also central to the human immune system. Without it, we lose the ability to produce white blood cells, and our immune system collapses. Chemotherapy causes damage to the immune system, which makes cancer patients vulnerable to stray infections.​[​5​]​ There are other types of rapidly dividing cells in the body. Our hair follicles and stomach lining also divide constantly, which is why chemotherapy can cause hair loss and nausea.

The Cancer Center suffered from two hallmarks of organizations that are plagued with coordination snafus. First, powerful people ignore, dismiss, denigrate, and even undermine people and groups they need to mesh their work with. Oncologists saw themselves as being at the top of the pecking order at the center and the work of other specialists as secondary, trivial, or downright useless. They dismissed side effects, including fatigue, diarrhea, and cramps, caused by chemotherapy that they prescribed as “normal” and left it to patients to find specialists to treat such problems. Second, powerful people devote little attention to solutions for coordination problems. Executives, consultants, and physicians who launched the center gave lip service to collaboration across silos. Yet they focused on building strong teams and departments in areas such as brain tumors, breast cancer, and skin cancer—and ignored how to help the units work together.

He generally traveled to Europe four or five times a year. The pharmaceutical empire he ran had research centers in Germany, Switzerland, and France, and huge laboratories and factories in England. It was always interesting coming over here, exchanging ideas with their research teams, and exploring new avenues of marketing, which was his real forte. But this time it was far more than that, far more than just a research trip, or the unveiling of a new product. He was here for the birth of “his baby.” Vicotec. His life’s dream. Vicotec was going to change the lives and the outlook of all people with cancer. It was going to dramatically alter maintenance programs, and the very nature of chemotherapy the world over. It would be Peter’s one major contribution to the human race. For the past four years, other than his family, it was what he had lived for. And undeniably, it was going to make Wilson-Donovan millions. More than that, obviously, their studies had already projected earnings in the first five years to well over a

They took my mother’s stomach out about six months ago. At that point, there wasn’t a lot left to remove—they had already taken out [I would use the medical terms here if I knew them] the rest of it about a year before. Then they tied the [something] to the [something], hoped that they had removed the offending portion, and set her on a schedule of chemotherapy. But of course they didn’t get it all. They had left some of it and it had grown, it had come back, it had laid eggs, was stowed away, was stuck to the side of the spaceship. She had seemed good for a while, had done the chemo, had gotten the wigs, and then her hair had grown back—darker, more brittle. But six months later she began to have pain again— Was it indigestion? It could just be indigestion, of course, the burping and the pain, the leaning over the kitchen table at dinner; people have indigestion; people take Tums; Hey Mom, should I get some Tums?—but when she went in again, and they had “opened her up”—a phrase they used—and had looked inside, it was staring out at them, at the doctors, like a thousand writhing worms under a rock, swarming, shimmering, wet and oily—

to an AirPort Express in his hospital room, announcing his surgery. He assured them that the type of pancreatic cancer he had “represents about 1% of the total cases of pancreatic cancer diagnosed each year, and can be cured by surgical removal if diagnosed in time (mine was).” He said he would not require chemotherapy or radiation treatment, and he planned to return to work in September. “While I’m out, I’ve asked Tim Cook to be responsible for Apple’s day to day operations, so we shouldn’t miss a beat. I’m sure I’ll be calling some of you way too much in August, and I look forward to seeing you in September.” One side effect of the operation would become a problem for Jobs because of his obsessive diets and the weird routines of purging and fasting that he had practiced since he was a teenager. Because the pancreas provides the enzymes that allow the stomach to digest food and absorb nutrients, removing part of the organ makes it hard to get enough protein. Patients are advised to make sure that they eat frequent meals and maintain a nutritious diet, with a wide variety of meat and fish proteins as well as full-fat milk products. Jobs had never done this, and he never would.

Our sizable group was scattered among three different tables, and because the restaurant was a bit noisy, the kids’ table didn’t hear Alan lead us in the blessing. So Miss Kay went over to their table and led Mia and her cousins in their own prayer, thanking God for the food and asking Him to watch over Mia the next morning. After she finished, she asked the girls if they wanted to add anything. Mia said that she did. They all bowed their heads while Mia prayed for Mrs. Cathy, a dear friend of ours who was recovering from a recent mastectomy and undergoing chemotherapy for stage two breast cancer. Miss Kay came over to me and Jase with tears in her eyes, recounting what Mia had prayed. “I just assumed she was going to pray for herself, but she prayed for Cathy instead.” When I told Miss Kay that we pray for Cathy each night at bedtime, Kay said, “Well, I guess Mia thought there was no reason that this night should be any different.” She also mentioned that she asked Mia if she was nervous about the next day. “Not really” was Mia’s response. “But what do you feel?” Miss Kay asked her. “Nothing. I just don’t feel anything, really.” I guess I would interpret her response simply as Mia being at peace.

Chemotherapy, the third main prong in cancer treatment after surgery and radiation, came about by similarly unlikely means. Although chemical weapons had been outlawed by international treaty after World War I, several nations still produced them, if only as a precaution in the event that others did likewise. The United States was among the transgressors. For obvious reasons, this was kept secret, but in 1943 a U.S. Navy supply ship, the SS John Harvey, carrying mustard gas bombs as part of its cargo, was caught in a German bombing raid on the Italian port of Bari. The Harvey was blown up, releasing a cloud of mustard gas over a wide area, killing an unknown number of people. Realizing that this was an excellent, if accidental, test of the mustard gas’s efficacy as a killing agent, the navy dispatched a chemical expert, Lieutenant Colonel Stewart Francis Alexander, to study the effects of the mustard gas on the ship’s crew and others nearby. Luckily for posterity, Alexander was an astute and diligent investigator, for he noticed something that might have been overlooked: mustard gas dramatically slowed the creation of white blood cells in those exposed to it. From this, it was realized that some derivative of mustard gas might be useful in treating some cancers. Thus was born chemotherapy.

Here is another weird example of the privileging of religion. On 21 February 2006 the United States Supreme Court ruled, in accordance with the Constitution, that a church in New Mexico should be exempt from the law, which everybody else has to obey, against the taking of hallucinogenic drugs. Faithful members of Centro Espirita Beneficiente Uniao do Vegetal believe that they can understand God only by drinking dimethyltryptamine. Note that it is sufficient that they believe that the drug enhances their understanding. They do not have to produce evidence. Conversely, there is plenty of evidence that cannabis eases the nausea and discomfort of cancer sufferers undergoing chemotherapy. Yet, again in accordance with the Constitution, the Supreme Court ruled in 2005 that all patients who use cannabis for medicinal purposes are vulnerable to federal prosecution (even in the minority of states where such specialist use is legalized). Religion, as ever, is the trump card. Imagine members of an art appreciation society pleading in court they they 'believe' they need a hallucinogenic drug in order to enhance their understanding of Impressionist or Surrealist paintings. Yet, when a church claims an equivalent need, it is backed by the highest court in the land. Such is the power of religion as a talisman.

On 21 February 2006 the United States Supreme Court ruled, in accordance with the Constitution, that a church in New Mexico should be exempt from the law, which everybody else has to obey, against the taking of hallucinogenic drugs.8 Faithful members of the Centro Espirita Beneficiente Uniao do Vegetal believe that they can understand God only by drinking hoasca tea, which contains the illegal hallucinogenic drug dimethyltryptamine. Note that it is sufficient that they believe that the drug enhances their understanding. They do not have to produce evidence. Conversely, there is plenty of evidence that cannabis eases the nausea and discomfort of cancer sufferers undergoing chemotherapy. Yet, again in accordance with the Constitution, the Supreme Court ruled in 2005 that all patients who use cannabis for medicinal purposes are vulnerable to federal prosecution (even in the minority of states where such specialist use is legalized). Religion, as ever, is the trump card. Imagine members of an art appreciation society pleading in court that they ‘believe’ they need a hallucinogenic drug in order to enhance their understanding of Impressionist or Surrealist paintings. Yet, when a church claims an equivalent need, it is backed by the highest court in the land. Such is the power of religion as a talisman.

For things to change, somebody somewhere has to start acting differently. Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s your team. Picture that person (or people). Each has an emotional Elephant side and a rational Rider side. You’ve got to reach both. And you’ve also got to clear the way for them to succeed. In short, you must do three things: → DIRECT the Rider FOLLOW THE BRIGHT SPOTS. Investigate what’s working and clone it. [Jerry Sternin in Vietnam, solutions-focused therapy] SCRIPT THE CRITICAL MOVES. Don’t think big picture, think in terms of specific behaviors. [1% milk, four rules at the Brazilian railroad] POINT TO THE DESTINATION. Change is easier when you know where you’re going and why it’s worth it. [“You’ll be third graders soon,” “No dry holes” at BP] → MOTIVATE the Elephant FIND THE FEELING. Knowing something isn’t enough to cause change. Make people feel something. [Piling gloves on the table, the chemotherapy video game, Robyn Waters’s demos at Target] SHRINK THE CHANGE. Break down the change until it no longer spooks the Elephant. [The 5-Minute Room Rescue, procurement reform] GROW YOUR PEOPLE. Cultivate a sense of identity and instill the growth mindset. [Brasilata’s “inventors,” junior-high math kids’ turnaround] → SHAPE the Path TWEAK THE ENVIRONMENT. When the situation changes, the behavior changes. So change the situation. [Throwing out the phone system at Rackspace, 1-Click ordering, simplifying the online time sheet] BUILD HABITS. When behavior is habitual, it’s “free”—it doesn’t tax the Rider. Look for ways to encourage habits. [Setting “action triggers,” eating two bowls of soup while dieting, using checklists] RALLY THE HERD.

freeze, so she opted for pants with a thick, nubbly sweater that added substance to her frame. As always, her necklace was in place, and she donned a lovely bright cashmere scarf to keep her neck warm. When she stepped back to appraise herself in the mirror, she felt she looked almost as good as she had before chemotherapy started. Collecting her purse, she took a couple more pills—the pain wasn’t as bad as yesterday, but no reason to risk it—and called an Uber. Pulling up to the gallery a few minutes after closing time, she saw Mark through the window, discussing one of her photographs with a couple in their fifties. Mark offered the slightest of waves when Maggie stepped inside and hurried to her office. On her desk was a small stack of mail; she was quickly sorting through it when Mark suddenly tapped on her open door. “Hey, sorry. I thought they’d make a decision before you arrived, but they had a lot of questions.” “And?” “They bought two of your prints.” Amazing, she thought. Early in the life of the gallery, weeks could go by without the sale of even a single print of hers. And while the sales did increase with the growth of her career, the real renown came with her Cancer Videos. Fame did indeed change everything, even if the fame was for a reason she wouldn’t wish upon anyone. Mark walked into the office before suddenly pulling up short. “Wow,” he said. “You look fantastic.” “I’m trying.” “How do you feel?” “I’ve been more tired than usual, so I’ve been sleeping a lot.” “Are you sure you’re still up for this?” She could see the worry in his expression. “It’s Luanne’s gift, so I have to go. And besides, it’ll help me get into the Christmas spirit.

What you did to us—and to me specifically—was wrong, and you had no right to do that.’” The priest stared unblinkingly into Blanchette’s eyes, waiting but unprepared for what came next. “‘Having said that, it brings me to the real reason I’ve come here. The real reason I’ve come here is to ask you to forgive me for the hatred and resentment that I have felt toward you for the last twenty-five years.’ When I said that, he stood up, and in what I would describe as a demonic voice, he said, ‘Why are you asking me to forgive you?’ And through tears I said, ‘Because the Bible tells me to love my enemies and to pray for those who persecute me.’” Blanchette said Birmingham collapsed as if he’d been punched in the chest. The priest dissolved into tears, and soon Blanchette too was crying. Blanchette began to take his leave but asked Birmingham if he could visit again. The priest explained that he was under tight restrictions at the rectory. He said he had been to a residential treatment center in Connecticut, and he returned there once a month. He was not allowed to leave the grounds except in the company of an adult. Blanchette would not see the priest again until Tuesday, April 18, 1989, just hours before his death. Blanchette found his molester at Symmes Hospital in Arlington and discovered the priest—once robust and 215 pounds—was now an eighty-pound skeleton with skin. Morphine dripped into an IV in his arm. Oxygen was fed by a tube into his nostrils. His hair had been claimed by chemotherapy. The priest sat in a padded chair by his bed. His breathing was labored. “I knelt down next to him and held his hand and began to pray. And as I did, he opened his eyes. I said, ‘Father Birmingham, it’s Tommy Blanchette from Sudbury.’” He greeted Blanchette with a raspy and barely audible, “Hi. How are ya?” “I said, ‘Is it all right if I pray for you?’ And he said, ‘Yes.’ And I began to pray, ‘Dear Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, I ask you to heal Father Birmingham’s body, mind, and soul.’ I put my hand over his heart and said, ‘Father, forgive him all his sins.’” Blanchette helped Birmingham into bed. It was about 10 P.M. He died the next morning.

Some years ago I saw a documentary on dying whose main theme was that people die as they lived. That was Jimmy. For five years, since he began undergoing operations for bladder cancer and even after his lung cancer was diagnosed, he continued the activities that he considered important, marching against crackhouses, campaigning against the demolition of the Ford Auditorium, organizing Detroit Summer, making speeches, and writing letters to the editor and articles for the SOSAD newsletter and Northwest Detroiter. In 1992 while he was undergoing the chemotherapy that cleared up his bladder cancer, he helped form the Coalition against Privatization and to Save Our City. The coalition was initiated by activist members of a few AFSCME locals who contacted Carl Edwards and Alice Jennings who in turn contacted us. Jimmy helped write the mission statement that gave the union activists a sense of themselves as not only city workers but citizens of the city and its communities. The coalition’s town meetings and demonstrations were instrumental in persuading the new mayor, Dennis Archer, to come out against privatization, using language from the coalition newsletter to explain his position. At the same time Jimmy was putting out the garbage, keeping our corner at Field and Goethe free of litter and rubbish, mopping the kitchen and bathroom floors, picking cranberries, and keeping up “his” path on Sutton. After he entered the hospice program, which usually means death within six months, and up to a few weeks before his death, Jimmy slowed down a bit, but he was still writing and speaking and organizing. He used to say that he wasn’t going to die until he got ready, and because he was so cheerful and so engaged it was easy to believe him. A few weeks after he went on oxygen we did three movement-building workshops at the SOSAD office for a group of Roger Barfield’s friends who were trying to form a community-action group following a protest demonstration at a neighborhood sandwich shop over the murder of one of their friends. With oxygen tubes in his nostrils and a portable oxygen tank by his side, Jimmy spoke for almost an hour on one of his favorite subjects, the need to “think dialectically, rather than biologically.” Recognizing that this was probably one of Jimmy’s last extended speeches, I had the session videotaped by Ron Scott. At the end of this workshop we asked participants to come to the next session prepared to grapple with three questions: What can we do to make our neighborhoods safe? How can we motivate people to transform? How can we create jobs?

Saturate the body politic with the chemotherapy or immunotherapy of antiracist policies that shrink the tumors of racial inequities, that kill undetectable cancer cells. Remove any remaining racist policies, the way surgeons remove the tumors. Ensure there are clear margins, meaning no cancer cells of inequity left in the body politic, only the healthy cells of equity. Encourage the consumption of healthy foods for thought and the regular exercising of antiracist ideas, to reduce the likelihood of a recurrence. Monitor the body politic closely, especially where the tumors of racial inequity previously existed. Detect and treat a recurrence early, before it can grow and threaten the body politic.

… the global polar bear population has actually increased since the 1960s. According to Danish environmentalist Bjørn Lomborg, the greatest threat to polar bears comes from hunters, who shoot between three hundred and five hundred of them every year—not global warming. The panic is best summarized by British journalist and author Matt Ridley, who told me: ‘Global warming is real, but slower than expected. The latest hysteria is based on exaggeration rather than evidence. We are told that we must panic, despair, and deliberately impose harsh austerity on ordinary people just in case the current gentle warming of the climate turns nasty at some point later in the century. That is like taking chemotherapy for a head cold.

Caroline wasn’t particularly vain, but she loved her hair, and so did I. It was a reflection of her personality, beautiful but occasionally a bit on the unruly side. It was auburn and thick and curly and fell to the middle of her back. It turned a few shades lighter in the summer when she spent more time in the sun. Losing it was the side effect of chemotherapy that she dreaded the most.

Treatment for malignancies had become only a little better than the tortures of a CIA black site. Chemotherapy, unbearable nausea, surgery, disfigurement. His heart went out to Helen, who, being brave and loyal, would have to put up with all of this. He wanted to encourage her to treat him like a Spartan elder and drop him on a mountainside. Yet perhaps the worst part of all was facing the fact that he was not courageous enough to do that willingly. Like most humans, he would struggle to go on, beg for his life as it were.

Chemotherapy drugs are also well-known carcinogens. The chemotherapy drugs chlorambucil, cyclosporin, cyclophosphamide, melphalan, alkylating agents, and tamoxifen are all recognized as IARC group 1 carcinogens. Cyclophosphamide, an immune-suppressing medication used for autoimmune diseases like vasculitis17 and rheumatoid arthritis,18 is associated with up to a fourfold increase in certain types of cancer.

My love for Troy Brennan wasn’t romantic or sweet—it was violent and needy. It was a cancer, spreading inside my body, multiplying into hundreds and thousands of new cells with every beat of my heart. No chemotherapy, no miracle cure. Every heartbeat, I slipped a little more. Drowned a little deeper. Fell a little further into the bottomless ocean of feelings for him.

A randomized trial in 131 cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy found that those who were placed on a “fasting-mimicking diet” (basically, a very low-calorie diet designed to provide essential nutrients while reducing feelings of hunger) were more likely to respond to chemotherapy and to feel better physically and emotionally.

When chemotherapy made her hair fall out, her husband shaved his own head as a gesture of solidarity.

recent paper describes a clinical trial where a platinum-based chemotherapy was used in combination with a checkpoint inhibitor, resulting in improved overall survival in patients with lung cancer.

To reiterate just a couple of examples mentioned earlier: the majority of authorized cancer drugs (57 percent) between 2009 and 2013 came to market without any evidence that “they improved the quality or quantity of patients’ lives,”1 and five-year survival rates for patients using cytotoxic chemotherapy drugs increased by an average of only 2.1 percent,2 a significant portion of which may simply be placebo.

Ketones help minimize free radical production in the body, while cancer cells thrive in the presence of reactive oxygen species. Ketones boost antioxidant production in healthy cells surrounding cancerous tumors—something scientists believe may help prevent cancer cells from growing and spreading. Ketones have also been found to help mitigate the effects of traditional radiation and chemotherapy cancer treatments.

People talk about cancer like it’s this special thing you have a relationship with. And it becomes blood count, biopsy, chemotherapy, radiation, bone marrow, blah blah blah blah blah. As long as I live I want to retain my own language. Mientras tengo vida, quiero procurar mantener mi proprio idioma. No extra hospital words. I don’t want a relationship with a disease. I want to have a relationship with death. That’s important. But to have a relationship with a disease—that’s some kind of bourgeois invention. And I hate it.

Chemotherapy also kills hidden cancer cells of the body... but that's not war.

Daily, Mom applied hairspray to her stylish hairdo. I remember the smell and the sound of the chemicals invading her ears, nose, and throat, and mine too since I loved to hang out with her. This era marked the start of the consumer use of chlorofluorocarbon (CFC), an organic compound produced as a volatile derivative of methane and ethane that affects the ozone layer of our Earth. These applications of toxins kept Mom’s hair in place until her next appointment. The CFCs from the new aerosol sprays undoubtedly contributed to my sweet mama’s subsequent poor health. But she didn’t stop using hairspray until she went bald from chemotherapy. The United States banned Chlorofluorocarbons in 1978.

types of errors is the most rational thing to do, when the errors are of little cost, as they lead to discoveries. For instance, most medical “discoveries” are accidental to something else. An error-free world would have no penicillin, no chemotherapy…almost no drugs, and most probably no humans.

Today, in the medical field, chemo brain is referred to as cancer-treatment-related cognitive impairment, cancer-related cognitive change, or post-chemotherapy cognitive impairment. I am not a fan of the word impairment in these phrases for reasons we’ll discuss in a moment, but nonetheless, chemo brain is a symptom reported by as many as 75 percent of cancer patients. It is often described as difficulty processing information and feeling as if you can’t think as quickly and as clearly as you did before you had cancer or started treatment. Everyday tasks require more concentration and take more time and effort to take care of. As you may have noticed, this is not too dissimilar from the brain fog experienced by

There is compelling evidence that a nutritional approach to post-op treatment of breast cancer far exceeds in safety and effectiveness any regimen of chemotherapy and/or radiation treatments.

Cancer patients typically take chemo drugs for only two weeks. Thanks to Tony Fauci’s Fischl study, doctors were now prescribing AZT for life! “Chemotherapy,” says Duesberg, “is restricted to a few months. The hope is that the cancer dies before you die.

Drs. Duesberg, Willner, and others believed that AZT killed tens of thousands of Americans between 1986 and 1996 before less toxic chemotherapy drugs were introduced, causing far more fatalities than the immune deficiencies

the implications if a mild, off-patent remedy like acyclovir could safely treat AIDS more effectively than Dr. Fauci’s expensive pharmacopoeia of deadly chemotherapy poisons? He choked off any further funding for HHV6 research, despite Knox’s potentially lifesaving discovery of the efficacy of acyclovir against AIDS.

Montagnier’s findings had transformative implications for AIDS treatment. They suggested that AIDS could be effectively treated and demolished with common patent-expired antibiotics instead of deadly and expensive chemotherapy concoctions.

If you are seriously ill, it is important to inform your physician about your qigong training, as it can affect the dosage requirements for medications such as insulin, chemotherapy, or drugs for high blood pressure. Certain kinds of qigong may be contraindicated for some conditions.

Lots of people die from cancer. Where was their miracle? Did their Facebook friends not pray enough? Why did their chemotherapy not work? Because they didn’t post enough public prayer requests on social media? Why didn’t they get their miracle? Does God think less of their lives than those whose lives he spares?

Lots of people die from cancer. Where was their miracle? Did their Facebook friends not pray enough? Why did their chemotherapy not work? Because they didn’t post enough public prayer requests on social media? Why didn’t they get their miracle? Does God think less of their lives than those whose lives he spares? No. Sometimes cancer is cured… sometimes it isn’t.

It follows from these results that wealthy people who are exposed to the suffering of others should exhibit less compassion than their poorer counterparts do, and this has been confirmed in the lab. When we experience compassion, though nobody knows why, our hearts slow down. Piff’s colleagues Michael Kraus and Jennifer Stellar hooked volunteers up to EKG devices and showed them two short videos, a “neutral” video of a woman explaining how to construct a patio wall and a “compassion” video of cancer-stricken children undergoing chemotherapy. Relative to the wealthier subjects, the poor ones not only reported higher levels of compassion for the children, they had a significantly larger slowdown in heart rate between the neutral video and the compassion video than their wealthy peers.

You have another young patient on immunotherapy? Here at Duke?" I repeat slowly, as Dr. Cartwright chats amicably about how he managed to secure the same drug for him too. Months ago. Months I have spent traveling to Atlanta, whittling down my family's savings and relying on the charity of others. Months of arguing with insurance companies---because treatment was administered out of state---contesting payments and fielding phone calls with bill collectors over clerical errors. I have been hooked to a bag of chemotherapy fluid that could have been administered by pills? I have been getting on a plane when I could have been walking down the hallway in my own institution?

tests. Those tests can lead to drugs or surgeries, even for patients with no symptoms. Men have their prostates removed. Women are given chemotherapy for breast cancer. The temptation to do something is overwhelming. The financial incentives don’t hurt either.

After two and a half years of chemotherapy treatments, spinal taps, and bone marrow biopsies, my little sister finally walked out of the hospital happy, healthy, and cancer free. And now, after ten years of normal life, my parents found themselves back in the same place with a different child.

No, you don’t understand what I’m saying, Mrs. Lowe. Arthur was unable to get me or any woman pregnant. He contracted testicular cancer when he was in his early twenties. The radiation and chemotherapy stopped the cancer but led to infertility. He tested and tested and finally gave up. That’s when we decided to adopt. My husband couldn’t possibly be the father of your sister’s child.” She stood again.

My studies have proved conclusively that untreated cancer victims live up to four times longer than treated individuals. If one has cancer and opts to do nothing at all, he will live longer and feel better than if he undergoes radiation, chemotherapy or surgery, other than when used in immediate life-threatening situations.

a patient imagines his immune cells destroying cancer cells, chemotherapy becomes more effective.

One of the pluses of chemotherapy, she tells the volunteers, is that all her facial and body hair has gone. It’s like a permanent Brazilian for free, she says. One of the minuses of chemotherapy is that all the stuff on top of her head has gone too. (“What is a Brazilian?” Sister Lucy asked the other day. Finty gulped and looked for help, but the Pearly King was studying a parcel and Barbara had lost one of her glass eyes again in her lap. “It’s a sort of haircut,” said Finty. “Quite short.”)

number of chemotherapy drugs have been developed to restore our bodies’ natural defenses, but their use has been limited due to their high toxicity.107 There are, however, a number of compounds distributed widely throughout the plant kingdom—including beans, greens, and berries—that appear to have the same effect naturally.108 For example, dripping green tea on colon, esophageal, or prostate cancer cells has been shown to reactivate genes silenced by the cancer.109

Big words like cancer and chemotherapy and radiation being tossed around like pinballs, big feelings creeping in and overtaking what was simply joy and peace only days ago. Yet You are here, Lord.

an average of $94,000 during the last year of life with a metastatic breast cancer. Our medical system is excellent at trying to stave off death with $12,000-a-month chemotherapy, $4,000-a-day intensive care, $7,000-an-hour surgery. But, ultimately, death comes, and few are good at knowing when to stop.

twenty-nine-year-old patient she had recently cared for who had an inoperable brain tumor that continued to grow through second-line chemotherapy. The patient elected not to attempt any further chemotherapy, but getting to that decision required hours of discussion, for this was not the decision he had expected to make. First, the oncologist said, she had a discussion with him alone. They reviewed the story of how far he’d come, the options that remained. She was frank. She told him that in her entire career she had never seen third-line chemotherapy produce a significant response in his type of brain tumor. She had looked for experimental therapies, and none were truly promising. And, although she was willing to proceed with chemotherapy, she told him how much strength and time the treatment would take away from him and his family. He did not shut down or rebel. His questions went on for an hour. He asked about this therapy and that therapy. Gradually, he began to ask about what would happen as the tumor got bigger, what symptoms he’d have, what ways they could try to control them, how the end might come. The oncologist next met with the young man together with his family. That discussion didn’t go so well. He had a wife and small children, and at first his wife wasn’t ready to contemplate stopping chemo. But when the oncologist asked the patient to explain in his own words what they’d discussed, she understood. It was the same with his mother, who was a nurse. Meanwhile, his father sat quietly and said nothing the entire time. A few days later, the patient returned to talk to the oncologist. “There should be something. There must be something,” he said. His father had shown him reports of cures on the Internet. He confided how badly his father was taking the news. No patient wants to cause his family pain. According to Block, about two-thirds of patients are willing to undergo therapies they don’t want if that is what their loved ones want.

The oncologist went to the father’s home to meet with him. He had a sheaf of possible trials and treatments printed from the Internet. She went through them all. She was willing to change her opinion, she told him. But either the treatments were for brain tumors that were very different from his son’s or else he didn’t qualify. None were going to be miraculous. She told the father that he needed to understand: time with his son was limited, and the young man was going to need his father’s help getting through it. The oncologist noted wryly how much easier it would have been for her just to prescribe the chemotherapy. “But that meeting with the father was the turning point,” she said. The patient and the family opted for hospice. They had more than a month together before he died. Later, the father thanked the doctor. That last month, he said, the family simply focused on being together, and it proved to be the most meaningful time they’d ever spent.

Fasting before chemotherapy is definitely something that should be implemented in our oncology wards,

The doctor explained that this type of relapse occurred in less than ten percent of childhood leukemia patients, and that Megan would require frequent spinal taps to inject chemotherapy drugs directly into her cerebrospinal fluid.

An American ship carrying mustard gas off Bari in Italy was bombed by the Germans 1942. It helped develop chemotherapy owing to the effect of the gas on the condition of the soldiers who had liquid cancers (eradication of white blood cells). But

SUSAN BLOCK AND her father had the conversation that we all need to have when the chemotherapy stops working, when we start needing oxygen at home, when we face high-risk surgery, when the liver failure keeps progressing, when we become unable to dress ourselves. I’ve heard Swedish doctors call it a “breakpoint discussion,” a series of conversations to sort out when they need to switch from fighting for time to fighting for the other things that people value—being with family or traveling or enjoying chocolate ice cream.

Three hours after eating 50 grams of broccoli sprouts, the enzyme that cancers use to help silence our defenses is suppressed in your bloodstream110 to an extent equal to or greater than the chemotherapy agent specifically designed for that purpose,111 without the toxic side effects.112

So when you are having chemotherapy, what you eat will make no difference to the chances of success of your treatment.

Guy declined a drink. He told me the chemotherapy had made him lose his taste for alcohol, and he was still pissed off about it.

Know each agent being used and relevant nutrient interactions and contraindications, especially when combinations of drugs are used. Selection of appropriate nutrients and botanicals is complex and based on many factors. General recommendations are safe for all types of chemotherapy. • Multiple vitamin: — Vitamin A: 5000 IU — Mixed natural carotenoids: 10,000-25,000 IU — B complex: 25-50 mg — Folic acid: 400-800 μg — Vitamin B12: 200-1000 μg — Vitamin E succinate: 400 IU — Vitamin C: 500-1000 mg — Vitamin D 400-800 IU — Trace minerals: full complement • Melatonin: 20 mg at bedtime • Vitamin C: 3000-10,000 mg q.d. in divided doses according to bowel tolerance • Fish oils: to provide 2 g total combined eicosapentaenoic acid and docosahexaenoic acid daily • Mushroom extracts/immune support: use a variety of immune modulators, switching them regularly to avoid downregulation of receptors. Standard doses for Coreolis versicolor mushroom is 3 g of the extract daily. Suggested dosage for maitake D fraction is 0.5-1.0 mg of extract per kilogram body weight. Other botanical immune modulators may be used as desired. • Enzymes: use pancreatic enzymes with meals and mixed enteric-coated enzymes between meals. • Green tea: capsules and beverages to total the equivalent of 5-10 cups daily. Caffeinated form is preferred if patient tolerates caffeine. • Whey protein shake: administer with fruit daily as a source of easily assimilated protein and amino acids, particularly glutamine.

To get the most out of this chapter, first find where you are on this map of the cancer journey: Critical stress points. When you have just been diagnosed with cancer or learned that your cancer has recurred or is not responding to treatment. Treatment preparation. When you are anticipating surgery, radiation, chemotherapy, or molecular target therapies. Side effect management. When you are undergoing treatment and need ways (instead of or in addition to drugs) to manage its side effects. Post-treatment. When you are adjusting to the end of active treatment, usually after the final chemotherapy cycle. This situation can, perhaps surprisingly, prove quite stressful. Remission maintenance. Although definitely good news, remission introduces its own issues, most notably fear of recurrence. Remission is also when you will be most determined to take back your life from cancer.

Initially, after David’s diagnosis, I would cringe when I read books or articles by cancer survivors who stated that cancer had been a gift in their lives. How could all that David endured be viewed as a gift? The invasive surgery, the weeks of chemotherapy and radiation: a gift? Yet, after the cancer, David would often reach for my hand and say, “If it is cancer that is responsible for our new relationship, then it was all worth it.” And I’d reluctantly agree that cancer had been a gift in our lives. We’d both seen the other alternative: patients and survivors who had become bitter and angry, and neither one of us wanted to become that.

Administered daily, Gleevec can “contain” cancer growth, which then ceases to be dangerous. We have reached the stage of “cancer without disease,” in the language of Judah Folkman, who discovered angiogenesis.59 It so happens that many herbs and spices act along some of the same lines as Gleevec. This is true of the labiate family, for example, which includes mint, thyme, marjoram, oregano, basil, and rosemary. They are rich in fatty acids of the terpene family, which makes them particularly fragrant. Terpenes have been shown to act on a wide variety of tumors by reducing the spread of cancer cells or by provoking their death. One of these terpenes—carnosol in rosemary—affects the capacity of cancer cells to invade neighboring tissues. When it is incapable of spreading, cancer loses its virulence. Moreover, researchers at the National Cancer Institute have demonstrated that rosemary extracts help chemotherapy penetrate cancer cells. In tissue cultures, they lower the resistance of breast cancer cells to chemotherapy.60 In Richard Béliveau’s experiments, apigenine—plentiful in parsley and celery—has demonstrated powerful inhibition of the creation of blood vessels, which tumors need to grow, and to a degree comparable to Gleevec. This effect occurs even with very small concentrations, similar to those observed in the blood after consumption of parsley.

Who here thinks,' I asked the small group of Marines who'd gathered for Sunday Mass, 'that when you get back to the States no civilians will be able to understand what you've gone through?' A few hands went up. 'I had a parishioner whose six-month-old son developed a brain tumor. He watched his child go through intense suffering, chemotherapy, and finally a brutal, ungraceful death. Who would rather go through that than be in Ramadi?' ...'Now, I wouldn't be surprised if this man supported the insurgency...But clearly this man has suffered. And if this man, this father, does support the insurgency, it's because he thinks his suffering justifies making you suffer. If his story about his beating is true, it means the Marines who beat him think their suffering justifies making him suffer...All of us suffer. We can either feel isolated, and alone, and lash out at others, or we can realize we're part of a community. A church. That father in my parish felt as if no one could understand him and it wasn't worth the effort to make them try. Maybe you don't think it's worth trying to understand the suffering of that Iraqi father.' ...'We are part of a long tradition of suffering. We can let it isolate us if we want, but we must realize that isolation is a lie. Consider Owen. Consider that Iraqi father and that American father. Consider their children. Do not suffer alone.

As a young priest, I'd had a father scream at me once. I was working in a hospital. He'd just lost his son. I thought my clerical collar gave me the right to speak, so right after the doctors called time of death, I went and assured him his infant son was in paradise. Stupid. And of all people, I should have known better. At age fourteen, I lost my mother to a rare form of cancer similar to what struck that father's son, and every empty condolence I received after my mother's death only deepened my angry teenage grief. But platitudes are most appealing when they're least appropriate. This father had watched his healthy child waste away to nothing. It must have been maddening. The months of random emergency room visits. The brief rallies and the inevitable relapses. The inexorable course of the disease... ...And then I came along, after the chemotherapy, after the bankrupting bills and the deterioration of his and his wife's careers, after the months of hoping and despair, after every possible medical violation had denied his child grace even in death. And I dared suggest some good had come of it? It was unbearable. It was disgusting. It was vile.

Dieter said softly, 'My doctor's love is as important to me as his chemotherapy, but he does not know.' Dieter's statement meant a great deal to me. I had not known either. For a long time, I had carried the belief that as a physician my love didn't matter and the only thing of value I had to offer was my knowledge and skill. My training had argued me out of my truth. Medicine is as close to love as it is to science, and its relationships matter even at the edge of life itself.

powerful chemotherapy agents enclosed in microscopic nanoparticles are injected intravenously. These circulate with the blood in every tissue and organ in the body, but the chemotherapy drugs are inactive because they are trapped inside the nanoparticles. After eliminating all of the tumor that can be seen on the MR, the surgeon then refocuses the ultrasound to the surrounding brain to activate the nanoparticles, which release their pharmacological payload in the precise area around the tumor where residual microscopic extensions of the tumor have infiltrated. This allows very high concentrations of the drugs to be delivered focally to the brain while minimizing systemic side effects. The remainder of the chemo-laden nanoparticles will be excreted.

The tumor will eventually take Paul’s life. However, focused ultrasound therapy could transform a fatal condition into one that is chronic, but manageable. In contrast to the best current treatment circa 2015, the futuristic ultrasound therapy depicted here circa 2025 could potentially be accomplished on an outpatient basis without multiple days of hospitalization; without surgery and its attendant risks of infection and complications like blood clots and brain damage; without the harmful effects of radiation; and with minimal side effects of chemotherapy due to focused drug delivery. The net result could be a dramatic improvement in the quality and longevity of countless lives, and decreased cost of treatment.

Conversely, there are other services in which Medicare is required to pay whatever it is charged. For instance, Medicare Part B pays oncologists for intravenous cancer chemotherapy drugs administered in the office. The

I certainly don’t want to lose my hair. But, then again, I don’t want to have hairy cell leukemia. And I don’t want to lose my life to save my head of hair, which I know will grow back after the chemotherapy is done. That is, if I survive.

those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer.

If we didn’t kill the tumor, we killed the patient. —William Moloney on the early days of chemotherapy

They went to a place which was called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I pray.” —Mark 14:32 (RSV) MAUNDY THURSDAY: LEARNING TO SAY YES I’m sitting in a car in the rain with my friend Linda, looking out over the Pacific Ocean, eating chicken satay. This will be our last meal forever, at least on this earth. Actually, I’m the only one eating. Linda is—as discreetly as possible—using a paper bag to, um, unload some of the chemotherapy from her stomach. When we arranged this trip—my flying in from Pennsylvania to California—we didn’t know it was the good-bye tour. Check that: I suspected but said nothing. Linda had been declining for two years. By the time I arrived, it was obvious this would be it. Ordinarily, I'm not an obedient servant nor a fully engaged human being. I am scattered, sarcastic, selfish, and way too proud. But for two days now I have answered her every wish the same way: Yes. I agree to even strange requests, like tossing back chicken satay while she tosses her cookies. Part of me can’t think of anything more tragic; another part of me realizes every moment of this visit is fully lived, fully engaged, and will be fully remembered for the rest of my life. Long ago, in centuries far away, another Last Supper took place among friends. I won’t pretend to know what that Passover meal felt like, but I can tell you it was fully lived and fully remembered. I can tell you that Someone said yes to what was asked that night, a sacrifice beyond sacrifice. But that’s what loved ones do for each other, something that redeems even the most scattered and selfish and proud among us sinners. Lord, help me to say yes more often—to You and to others. —Mark Collins Digging Deeper: Is 53:5; 2 Cor 5:21; Heb 10:1–14

not the difference between treating and doing nothing, she explained. The difference was in the priorities. In ordinary medicine, the goal is to extend life. We’ll sacrifice the quality of your existence now—by performing surgery, providing chemotherapy, putting you in intensive care—for the chance of gaining time later. Hospice deploys nurses, doctors, chaplains, and social workers to help people with a fatal illness have the fullest possible lives right now—

Bei der Bestrahlung und Chemotherapie zerstört man sowohl gesunde Zellen als auch Krebszellen.

discussion. It now seemed possible that team-based palliative care extended life to a degree comparable to newer immune-based chemotherapy drugs that may cost $6,000 to $10,000 per month and can cause rashes, bleeding, infection, and other life-threatening side effects. In contrast, team-based palliative care for a patient and family typically costs several hundred dollars per month and does not cause rashes, bleeding, or infections.

Oncologists tend to start with the most effective chemotherapy they have for a patient’s cancer. Second-, third-, and fourth-line treatments may be less effective or carry more side effects. When cancer grows despite chemotherapy or when it recurs, the situation may become one of diminishing returns on a person’s investment of limited time and energy. Since most chemotherapy affects normal cells as well as cancer cells, these medications can take a toll on one’s general health—something I know you know all too well.” “I know this in my head, Dr. Byock,” Paul

On one occasion, Asher told me that there were visitors who came and were on the verge of collapse, immediately upon seeing her. One of them was my brother Haim. When he went in to see her in one of his first visits at Hadassah Hospital, he was just horrified. He turned as white as a sheet, breathing heavily, and there was a serious concern for his health. Maggie's helpless appearance shocked him. Even before entering the room, when he had to wash his hands with the alcoholic device, he showed the first signs of a tremor. Because he wore the mask on his nose, it was necessary to direct him towards the room. He just lost control of himself. Maggie's appearance without her natural hair, which had fallen out due to chemotherapy, was beyond his ability to take. He could not recognize her, he snuck glances at her, having trouble seeing her as his sister. He did not dare to look at her, and only blurted out unclear words in Asher's direction. He must have tried to calm himself in his own way.

The smells ran instantly up my nostrils like some sort of acid vapour, taking my thoughts back several years to the morning we’d rocked up here after discovering Mum’d had that tumour in her chest. Doctors had said her prognosis was good. (Do they tell everyone that?) We’d pulled into the car park and Dad’d commented, ‘Oh well, it’s a nice view of the ocean at least.’ Like that’s all that mattered. Like we were having a snug little holiday by the sea. Like we were going to be enjoying the ocean views and the docks and the rolling coastline over bacon and eggs and buttered chemotherapy every fucking morning.

Like chemotherapy, ECT is a toxic treatment for a crippling disease. Like any surgery requiring anesthesia, it carries risks. And like the electric paddles that cardiologists use to shock a fibrillating heart back into rhythm, ECT is not a cure but can offer relief and even remission.

The journalist Stewart Alsop was confined to one such ward at the NIH in 1973 for the treatment of a rare and unidentifiable blood cancer. Crossing its threshold, he encountered a sanitized version of hell. "Wandering about the NIH clinical center, in the corridors or in the elevator, one comes occasionally on a human monster, on a living nightmare, on a face or body hideously deformed," he wrote. Patients, even disguised in "civilian" clothes, could still be identified by the orange tinge that chemotherapy left on their skin, underneath which lurked the unique pallor of cancer-related anemia. The space was limbolike, with no simple means of egress-no exit. In the glass-paneled sanatorium where patients walked for leisure, Alsop recalled, the windows were covered in heavy wire mesh to prevent the men and women confined in the wards from jumping off the banisters and committing suicide.

Marijuana, meanwhile, produces a chemical called THC that attaches to the second class of receptors (discovered in 1988). These receptors were then deemed “cannabinoid receptors,” and the brain chemicals that attach to them were called endocannabinoids (for endogenous cannabinoids). Because molecules in these plants attach to these receptors in our brain and elsewhere, they can, in small amounts, enhance our lives. Marijuana can calm the nausea in chemotherapy patients and improve the appetite of AIDS patients. Morphine and other opioids, of course, numb pain and allow for surgery to take place. In the bowels, opioids can control diarrhea—as Paul Janssen knew when he invented loperamide. But in larger quantities, far beyond what the brain can produce, these molecules prod our brain receptors to excess. THC in marijuana overwhelms the cannabinoid receptors and produces ravenous hunger and faulty memory. The morphine molecule locks with the opioid receptors to produce euphoria and numb pain. Opioid receptors in our lungs govern breathing; too much morphine molecule shuts down breathing, which is how overdose victims die. The morphine molecule also produces constipation in addicts. In withdrawals, without the drug, addicts suffer diarrhea. (Naloxone, the overdose antidote, is occasionally used to treat constipation.) (Interestingly, the natural substances that make humans high actually evolved in their plants as pesticides, to keep predator insects from feasting on their leaves. Nicotine is a pesticide that tobacco naturally produces. So is caffeine in coffee, cocaine in the coca leaf, morphine in the opium poppy, and perhaps THC in marijuana as well.) In

CAN ANY OF US pinpoint the moment when we’ve lost our younger selves, lost joy in the simple things, stopped celebrating life? For years—decades—we work, raise a family, plant begonias. Then one day we wake up to chemotherapy and eulogies and nursing home visits and the realization that we haven’t had a real vacation in years. And all we can do is ask: How did life get so hard?

Maybe in ten or twenty years we’ll look back on chemotherapy and gasp. Another generation may be appalled that we ever did this, dripped poison through a needle into a person’s body to make him well. ♦

divorce was the chemotherapy of marriage, so expensive and toxic that only couples in extremis would attempt it as a cure. And if half of marriages were so cancerous that they justified treatment with the equivalent of chemotherapy, what did that say about the others? How many of the nondivorced had just learned to live with the illness because the cure seemed even worse than the disease?

Saturate the body politic with the chemotherapy or immunotherapy of antiracist policies that shrink the tumors of racial inequities, that kill undetectable cancer cells. Remove any remaining racist policies, the way surgeons remove the tumors. Ensure there are clear margins, meaning no cancer cells of inequity left in the body politic, only the healthy cells of equity.

There are hundreds of drugs on the market, including chemotherapy drugs, that are not calibrated for women because there were no women subjects in the original drug trials, and the differences in side effects don’t rise to such urgency that the FDA is going to review them for gender disparities.

pay doctors to give chemotherapy and to do surgery but not to take the time required to sort out when to do so is unwise.

SKIN PIGMENTATION. Pigmentation refers to skin coloring, which depends on specialized cells that produce melanin. Melanin is the pigment that imparts different shades and colors to the hair, skin, mucous membranes, and retina of the eye. Individuals with too little melanin production have fair skin, whereas those with high deposition have a darker complexion. Skin pigmentation problems arise when there is an excess of melanin production, resulting in dark spots, patches, or discoloration of the skin. It can change the color of the skin over time, resulting in an uneven skin tone. Whilst hyperpigmentation is not a dangerous illness, it may be a sign of another medical condition. As a result, a dermatologist should be consulted to determine the exact cause of the pigmentation. CAUSES OF SKIN PIGMENTATION. • Skin inflammation (post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation) • Drugs (such as minocycline, certain cancer chemotherapies, and birth control pills) • The disease of hormones. • Hemochromatosis (iron overload) • Sun exposure. • Pregnancy (melasma, or mask of pregnancy) • Certain birthmarks. or contact 0331 1117546

Unfortunately, it is the second most leading cause of death in India. Not all cancers can be categorized as chronic, Some cancers are considered very low-risk, but those that are ongoing and can be watched and treated do become classified as chronic. Cancers such as ovarian, chronic leukemias, some lymphomas, and even some cancers that have spread or come back like metastatic breast or prostate also become chronic cancers

Most cancers are named for where they start in the body. Many cancers form solid tumors, which are growths of tissue. But there are warning signs Fever, chills Persistent fatigue, weakness Bone/joint pain Unexplained weight loss Swollen lymph nodes, liver and spleen Anemia

A need to develop innovative strategies for prevention, and early detection of cancer & to develop resources that support cancer care to prevent, treat and control cancer

Cancer Research Anti-Cancer Activity PHPC Compound

Nobody craves normalcy more than us! If only it were so simple and easy to move forward, tossing a match behind you and burning the whole ugly experience to the ground. Burn the pink tchotchkes while you’re at it.

The overcoming adversity tool isn't something you're born with, or would eagerly sign up for, but it was tossed into my lap like a gift. I promised myself I was coming through this experience stronger. I vowed to be unwavering with my dedication to mental and physical health after cancer. I envisioned a life of peace and I was reaching for it.

My last chemo treatment was right around the corner. The enemy I'd pictured pulling a sneak attack on me was losing. My healthy-cell cancer fighter's were kicking in the swinging doors like an old Western movie and smoking those cancer cells one by one. They were doing the physical work; the least I could do was the mental olympics. The unexpected gift of mental fortitude feels like a secret in the breast cancer sisterhood community. Let’s vow to one another to accept positive energy only, including from our brains to ourselves.

randomized trial in 131 cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy found that those who were placed on a “fasting-mimicking diet” (basically, a very low-calorie diet designed to provide essential nutrients while reducing feelings of hunger) were more likely to respond to chemotherapy and to feel better physically and emotionally.

Grief, I’d only begun to learn, can be so startling in the morning, it feels like an ambush.

There’s an unspoken expectation that we are going to finish treatment and bounce right back. We are tethered to our Chemo Chairs for months and months and then just tossed back into the world like a deer on ice trying to land on our feet.

The savageness of the cancer was rivaled only by the brutality of the chemotherapy. She was left a ravaged skeleton.

So you may not want to institute a fasting process during chemotherapy as that fasting could induce autophagy and allow your cancer to hibernate and then return stronger. However, after cancer, you do want to try intermittent fasting or time-restricted feeding, as early data imply that these simple, side-effect-free, no-medication-involved practices can help you regain impaired functions and experience better quality of life as a cancer survivor.

By this point, Sara had undergone three rounds of chemotherapy with limited, if any, effect. Perhaps Marcoux could have discussed what she most wanted as death neared and how best to achieve those wishes.

Other medical issues which are never debated openly include chemotherapy, radiotherapy, vivisection, drug therapy for the menopause and heart surgery.)

Life Expectancy Neither one-second less nor more than that which God has written and fixed the time for death. I am suffering from stage 4 prostate cancer that has spread to the lymph nodes and bones since the medical mistake and even medical crime, as I had explained in that article.[1], [2]. Treatment of hormone therapy and radiotherapy as an expected outcome became ineffective for such level cancer; whereas, another option was the chemotherapy that I refuse since that has terrible and painful side effects than as cancer itself. Now alternative treatment is a Xitnadi tablet along with hormone therapy as Zoladex injection. My survival and life expectancy lies in prayers and God. In Germany and other western countries, modern and incredibly effective treatments stay in practice for longer life expectancy without terrible side effects. In the Netherlands, such technology, the health providers deliberately fail to provide; however, only rich and capable people can afford that. Therefore, I wait for the miracle; it is my source if it happens.

There’s a phenomenon known as “chemo brain.” She described it as feeling foggy, not being as sharp or alert, to which I said, “So, I’ll finally know what it’s like to be above average?

Camille Salem. Yes, that was a good one. A bubbly woman whose biggest regret was that she didn’t start eating mangoes until she was fifty. “I ate one once when I was a kid, and couldn’t stand the slimy texture,” she’d told me forlornly from her hospital bed. The chemotherapy had vanquished her eyelashes, but her eyes were still a bright, sparkling green. “But then my husband made me try one while we were on vacation in the Philippines and I almost had an orgasm over how good it tasted. Think of how many mangoes I missed out on by not eating them for fifty years!

JD was born in Poland in 1894. When he was eighteen years old, he immigrated to the United States, where he worked in a ball-bearing factory. In August 1940, a severe form of lymphoma invaded the entire right side of his neck. He could barely open his mouth, turn his head, swallow, or sleep. In February 1941, he was referred to the Yale Medical Center for radiation therapy. After two weeks of daily radiation, he improved. But the improvement was short-lived. By August 1942, he had trouble breathing, couldn’t eat, and had lost a substantial amount of weight. On August 27 at 10 a.m., JD became the first person in history to receive a medicine to treat cancer. Every day, for ten consecutive days, he received an injection of nitrogen mustard. After the fifth dose, his tumor regressed; finally, he was able to move his head and eat. One month later, however, his tumor came back, necessitating another three-day course of nitrogen mustard; again, the response was short-lived. So, he received a six-day course, without effect. On December 1, 1942, ninety-six days after he had received his first dose of nitrogen mustard, JD died. Because this was a covert operation run by the OSRD, the phrase “nitrogen mustard” never appeared in his medical chart. Instead, doctors referred to it as “substance X.” The first paper describing nitrogen mustard’s effects on cancer wasn’t published until 1946, four years after JD was treated. On October 6, 1946, the New York Times, under the headline “War Gases Tried in Cancer Therapy,” wrote, “The possibility that deadly blister gases prepared for wartime use may aid victims of cancer will be investigated by the Army Chemical Corps’ Medical Division.” Nitrogen mustard had provided the first ray of hope in the fight against cancer. The modern age of chemotherapy had begun.

It hit me hard today, Winnie. I can't believe I'll have to do this chemotherapy thing again. Three more times. I feel like crap." What could I possibly say? It had been a bad day for Nancy. The phlebotomist who normally draws Nancy's blood was off, and her replacement "missed" the first two times. She had to stand to have a chest X-ray even though she felt particularly weak. And she had to give three different urine specimens. By late morning, fever and chills were return visitors to Room 842. Nancy had no energy to walk. She even turned down her daily shower, too tired to make another trip to her bathroom. "You know, Nancy, the day before yesterday, when Chuck and I took our mountain bake ride, we went on a brand new trail in Round Valley. It was really hard for me. But yesterday, we rode the same trail. And it wasn't so bad. Actually it was almost easy. Your treatments will be like that." Nancy grabbed my hand between both of hers. There were fewer wrinkles on her forehead than moments before. Her eyes speak volumes and I couldn't speak. I didn't need to. For once, I chose the correct words. She smiled, closed her eyes and feel asleep.

I just don't know what to expect, Winnie. Every day is different. And usually it's awful.

A CEMENT WALL A few years ago, two patients found themselves sharing a room in the palliative care unit of a hospital. Luis, in the bed next to the window, would talk to Daniel. Every day he would tell him, in luxuriant detail, what happened in the street. Mostly he narrated the adventures—seen from the window—of a family who lived near the hospital. The mother would often play with her children in the garden. He spoke naturally and with grace, although his voice was slurred from the chemotherapy. For Daniel, the last months of his life were rendered entertaining by his roommate. On those days when they were alone, without family or friends, Luis would say, “Shall I tell you what I see?” Daniel’s eyes would light up. And a recital would begin that might last hours. Months later, Luis passed away, and within a few days his bed was occupied by another patient. Daniel, excited by the thought that he would once again be able to hear the stories his friend had told him, asked his new companion to inform him about the children in their garden. The response stunned him: “There’s no garden here, just a cement wall.” Luis had used his imagination—his one remaining resource—to make up stories that would entertain Daniel. Using empathy, Luis had been capable of putting himself in his comrade’s shoes and successfully got him excited about something, helping him to overcome the suffering caused by his illness.

It’s no accident that cancer survives everything the body throws at it. It’s no accident that cancer survives everything modern medicine throws at it. It survives chemotherapy, the most devastating poisons in our pharmacopeia.

Words I never want to hear associated with someone I love—external radiation therapy chemotherapy—are now a daily part of St. Clair's life.

Fate had dedicated that love’s path would not run smoothly. Katie kept a secret from her husband and can they survive this? She had a lump in her breast. She was terrified it was cancer; her mum had died of it. A month later she got so sick she collapsed and had to be hospitalized. Tests revealed she had inoperable cancer. Surgery was no use nor was chemotherapy or radiography

For example, the colonized people have ‘regimes’ and ‘dictators’, whereas the West has ‘democracies’; the people in the ‘first world’ ‘tolerate’ cancer chemotherapy and ‘tolerate’ refugees or other religions and beliefs; if you go to work and settle in the West, you are an ‘immigrant’, but when Westerners come to plunder your country and get overpaid jobs (often despite mediocre qualifications), they are ‘expats’; and on goes the list of how we devalue ourselves and glorify our killers and plunderers without even realizing it simply through the language we use daily.

The irony of that award could hardly have escaped the researchers at the institute. In America, the landscape of cancer medicine had become so deeply gashed by internal rifts that the most important NCI-sponsored trial of cytotoxic chemotherapy to be launched after the announcement of the War on Cancer had to be relocated to a foreign country.

On an overcast morning in the winter of 1975, Bonadonna flew to Brussels to present his results at a conference of European oncologists. The trial had just finished its second year. But the two groups, Bonadonna reported, had clearly parted ways. Nearly half the women treated with no therapy had relapsed. In contrast, only a third of the women treated with the adjuvant regimen had relapsed. Adjuvant chemotherapy had prevented breast cancer relapses in about one in every six treated women.

R.’s chemotherapy is going better than expected. Total loss of hair, though. We are praying together for the first time since the early part of our marriage, and I am more filled with love for her than ever. She seems so broken and helpless; but God’s love will give her and both of us strength.

Ninety-seven percent of the time, chemotherapy does not work and continues to be used only for one reason—doctors and pharmaceutical companies make money from it. That’s the only reason chemotherapy

chemotherapy does not work for the majority of cancers.’ And

chemotherapy as a cancer cure is pathetic.

The experts agree with them about the importance of the quality of the debulking: “there is absolutely nothing the doctor can influence, including choosing the type of chemotherapy, that affects a woman’s chance of surviving her ovarian cancer as much as the quality of her initial surgery . . . Sadly, however, only between 30 and 50 percent of the women with ovarian cancer in any given geographic region will have optimal surgery.” I

That's nonsense!” snapped Aaron. “Cancer is technically a part of us, but that doesn't stop us from cutting out tumors or trying chemotherapy,

a noninvasive tumor. Stage 1—before the cancer spreads to the lymph nodes—is curable, though lots of stage 1 patients have mastectomies. Triple positive is good—this means the tumors respond to hormones—though triple-positive patients often go on a drug called tamoxifen, and everyone hates it because it makes you gain weight and zaps your sex drive. In stage 2, the cancer has spread to the lymph nodes; they sometimes feel swollen. Tatum checks under her arms again; she thought she felt some swelling the other night, but tonight, nothing. HER2-positive breast cancer is aggressive—treatment is effective but it nearly always includes chemotherapy. You can order a “cold cap” so your hair won’t fall out, but it’s expensive. What even

Dr. Fauci’s insider’s cabal greased the skids, allowing Burroughs Wellcome to skip animal testing and to proceed directly to human trials. This omission was unprecedented in the history of chemotherapy drugs, but again foreshadowed the decision to allow the Pfizer/BioNTech COVID-19 vaccine to proceed to human testing without completing the usual panel of safety testing in animal models.

We can give you medication to help with the nausea, but the trial we’ve recommended doesn’t include Cisplatin. You’ll be getting a drug called Cetuximab. It’s not actually a chemotherapy agent, but a monoclonal antibody that’s effective for your particular cancer. Cetuximab has its own side effects, but less than you would have with Cisplatin. Some people don’t have nausea at all.” Dolly said, “Cetuximab is a good choice, Pat. It’ll be much easier on you than Cisplatin, and it’s very effective.” I wasn’t convinced. I wanted the best treatment, not the easiest. I wanted this cancer gone! “But you said Cisplatin is the usual drug. Is it more effective than Cetuximab? Is Cetuximab experimental?” Dr. Fidler shook her head. “No to both questions. The FDA approved

Three hours after eating a cup of broccoli sprouts, the enzyme that cancers use to help silence our defenses is suppressed in your bloodstream110 to an extent equal to or greater than the chemotherapy agent specifically designed for that purpose,111 without the toxic side effects.

Peter Mansoor, who left the army shortly after the Surge, said, ‘If you don’t get rid of all the cancer cells and if the environment is such that it is conducive to the cells then multiplying, in other words you stop the chemotherapy, then the cancer can come back, and that is an excellent parallel to what’s happened with ISIS.

Results have now been seen not only in elementary-school children, but in preschoolers, college students, the middle-aged, and the elderly. Healthy volunteers have benefited, as have people with disorders including Down syndrome, schizophrenia, traumatic brain injury, alcohol abuse, Parkinson’s disease, chemotherapy-treated cancer, attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), and mild cognitive impairment (a common forerunner of Alzheimer’s disease). Gains have been seen to persist for up to eight months after the completion of training.

For things to change, somebody somewhere has to start acting differently. Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s your team. Picture that person (or people). Each has an emotional Elephant side and a rational Rider side. You’ve got to reach both. And you’ve also got to clear the way for them to succeed. In short, you must do three things: → DIRECT the Rider FOLLOW THE BRIGHT SPOTS. Investigate what’s working and clone it. [Jerry Sternin in Vietnam, solutions-focused therapy] SCRIPT THE CRITICAL MOVES. Don’t think big picture, think in terms of specific behaviors. [1% milk, four rules at the Brazilian railroad] POINT TO THE DESTINATION. Change is easier when you know where you’re going and why it’s worth it. [“You’ll be third graders soon,” “No dry holes” at BP]               → MOTIVATE the Elephant FIND THE FEELING. Knowing something isn’t enough to cause change. Make people feel something. [Piling gloves on the table, the chemotherapy video game, Robyn Waters’s demos at Target] SHRINK THE CHANGE. Break down the change until it no longer spooks the Elephant. [The 5-Minute Room Rescue, procurement reform] GROW YOUR PEOPLE. Cultivate a sense of identity and instill the growth mindset. [Brasilata’s “inventors,” junior-high math kids’ turnaround]                             → SHAPE the Path TWEAK THE ENVIRONMENT. When the situation changes, the behavior changes. So change the situation. [Throwing out the phone system at Rackspace, 1-Click ordering, simplifying the online time sheet] BUILD HABITS. When behavior is habitual, it’s “free”—it doesn’t tax the Rider. Look for ways to encourage habits. [Setting “action triggers,” eating two bowls of soup while dieting, using checklists] RALLY THE HERD. Behavior is contagious. Help it spread. [“Fataki” in Tanzania, “free spaces” in hospitals, seeding the tip jar] ————— OVERCOMING OBSTACLES ————— Here we list twelve common problems that people encounter as they fight for change, along with some advice about overcoming them. (Note

The difference between standard medical care and hospice is not the difference between treating and doing nothing, she explained. The difference was in the priorities. In ordinary medicine, the goal is to extend life. We’ll sacrifice the quality of your existence now—by performing surgery, providing chemotherapy, putting you in intensive care—for the chance of gaining time later. Hospice deploys nurses, doctors, chaplains, and social workers to help people with a fatal illness have the fullest possible lives right now—much as