A – Z of Breast Cancer: EPIPHANIES and EPIDEMICS

I feel short changed. All around me cancer patients are having epiphanies. The scales are falling from their eyes and they are finally seeing what life is really all about. They are getting their priorities right, throwing off their shackles, putting love first. I envy them, they look born again. I can’t join in because I always knew what mattered, to me anyway. I always put love first. Unfortunately it didn’t always put me first. I always lived for the moment and as a consequence my pension plan wouldn’t even feed my cat, if I had one. I’ve never understood people who don’t worry about the nature and quality of their existence. I suppose they are too caught up in the act of doing, of working and making money, of bringing up their families to give it thought. These are the people who wait to middle age before asking, What’s it all about? These are the people who don’t get depressed or hung up on existentialism. Lucky them. Twice lucky, because now they are having their epiphanies. I want one too.

E IS FOR EPIDEMIC

When I first stepped through the revolving doors of the cancer centre at my local hospital I was immediately struck by the hordes of people milling around. They couldn’t all have cancer, could they? All these people; it was like an epidemic. I went to hide out in the Centre’s café but it was so busy I couldn’t get a seat. I lurked in a corner studiously avoiding eye contact with everyone in the building, even the receptionist. I wanted people to think I was just a visitor or that I worked there. I was afraid if they looked in my eyes they would know I had cancer. Weird, I know.

A word of advice:

Subterfuge is futile; don’t even try it. The number of bald heads and bandanas quickly gives the game away as does that disc buzzing in your pocket. Because of the vast numbers of patients being attended to everyday at the Cancer Centre they have a system whereby you check in at reception and are given a disc which vibrates and buzzes when your turn is up. This should alert you immediately to expect a long wait, but at least you can amble down to the shop while you are waiting or wander the corridors playing guess the artist (they have an interesting collection of artworks adorning the walls). This disc system works really well and you quickly get used to it, but I have to admit that I couldn’t help thinking of lepers ringing bells to warn others of their approach. Still, you can always slip out to the toilets for a good cry without fear of missing your slot.

This is a big problem

On that first day, lurking in the foyer of the cancer centre I remember thinking if the shopping centres were as busy as this there would be no credit crunch. I looked at the staff and thought: your job is safe. Gordon Brown should forget about retraining big city bankers and stockbroker types for the teaching profession; there is a future to be had in cancer.

And you know what? All those people, all that waiting around and refreshingly I never once heard anyone make a fuss. Maybe like me, they were tossing the figures over in their mind: One in three people in the UK will get cancer. One in three. Or maybe they were thinking that there is safety in numbers. Maybe we should take comfort from knowing that we are not alone. This is a big problem. They will fix it. Won’t they?

Read more at http://breastcancercares.blogspot.com/