Cancer Is the Answer

An old friend called me last night. We went through colon cancer together twenty years ago. I haven’t seen her much in recent years, though, because we live about 500 miles away.

She has cancer again. Breast this time. She’s having surgery this morning. The doctor said “five years.”

It reminds me of our friend, John Anduri, who had cancer twice. He said, “The first time, I thought ‘cancer’ was the worst word in the English language. Then I found out that ‘recurrence’ is the worst word.”

My friend called just to talk, and to say she had been reading my book, “Now That I Have Cancer I Am Whole: Reflections on Life and Healing for Cancer Patients and Those Who Love Them.”

We talked especially about the reflection called “Cancer is the answer.” She knows she was the springboard for that meditation.

She said: “I’m at that awkward stage: I’m old, but am I old enough to die? Should I fight or give up? Is it worth going through all I have to for five more years? Maybe this time cancer is the answer. I’ll just go ahead and die and it will solve all my problems.”

There is no simple or general answer for this awkward stage of folks in the winter of our years. But I’ll quote what I said to her twenty years ago: “Yes, cancer is the answer. You needed it so you could be broken into pieces so small so that you can be put back together in ways you’ve never even thought about. None of us needs death or cancer. They’re just ways of telling us that we need love.”


[My fiction blog, which aims at being mildly amusing, and sometimes succeeds, is at http://periwinklechronicles.blogspot.com/]