The War Against Cancer

In 2625 BC, Imhotep noted a “bulging mass in the breast” of a woman. In 440 BC, Greek historian Herodotus, records the story of Atossa, the queen of Persia, who noticed a bleeding lump in her breast. Throughout history, these cases are rare, yet they exist. For centuries, they were an unanswered mystery, disregarded in comparison to the many plagues of the past. But as our civilisation progresses, the answer becomes evident: cancer.

The war against cancer has been a never-ending, bitter struggle, a seemingly impossible endeavour that has plagued humanity for millenia, ingrained deeply within our history, culture, and politics. In the eyes of the patient, each failed medication is a lost battle, each successful one a small triumph. In the eyes of civilization, each new drug is a potential weapon, and every form of cancer brings with it a new conflict that leads to the deaths of thousands, even millions.

But there are few cases in the depths of the past: as stated by Arthur Aufderheide, “The early history of cancer is that there is very little history of cancer.” With the increasing use of technology and higher quality of healthcare — notably the discovery of vaccines and antibiotics, both of which have played a major role in disease prevention and treatment — civilisation unveils cancer in the longevity of human life. We see, then, a correlation between cancer and age. The two are exponentially related: cancer may have been lurking, unnoticed in ancient ages, overshadowed by violent plagues and illnesses. It is an immortal illness, a force that constantly changes and metamorphoses within our own bodies, such that scholars have deemed it the “defining plague of our generation”, or the “emperor of all maladies”. With that in mind, this article does not aim to explore any potential “cures” to different types of cancer, or detail the history of our struggle against it. Rather, I want to focus on one key thing: the impact cancer can have on a person’s life.

To understand this, we must first have a clearer comprehension of the biology behind cancer. It is important to note that cancer is not one disease, but many that share a fundamental characteristic: the abnormal division (mitosis) and thus growth of cells, resulting from cellular mutations that prevent apoptosis. Cancer treatments involve the use of a combination of techniques, such as surgery, and hormone therapy, the most prominent of which is chemotherapy. Chemotherapy employs the use of cytotoxic drugs, which are only effective to an extent: they may not be able to keep up with the mutations of cancer within the body, or they reach a pitfall in metastatic cases. There is a painful irony in this: when cancer spreads to the brain, the (often polar) drugs meant to kill the mutating cells are unable to bypass the hydrophobic, lipid-soluble blood-brain barrier, prevented by the very mechanism that protects the brain from circulating toxins or pathogens. In this sense, the body’s own means of protecting itself are used against it, housing the very thing that will lead to its ultimate demise. In all cases of cancer, be it local or metastatic, the patient experiences frustration, fear, and anger, where their mental and physical struggles against the illness seem fruitless, as their own enemy is themself: in other words, they lose all control and personal agency of their bodies, which sadly often translates to one’s personal life.

After being diagnosed, any family members or friends with the patient turn to them with a determined look and the classic response of: “We can do this!” Note the we: implying that the struggle is one that they can face together. Yet all too often, the person in question being diagnosed is often still in shock, horror, or left in a state of hopelessness, unable to ascribe to the optimism of loved ones around them.

Relationships can come to their downfalls as the individual struggles against the illness: a partner may become too protective or controlling, so willing to help, that in the process, the patient may feel as though they’re losing whatever agency they might have left. Alternatively, the increased physical needs to come with cancer may lead to added responsibilities to one’s partner, family, or friends, which may frustrate the individual, leaving them guilt-ridden.

Communication is often key here, as one should try to be understanding, as opposed to taking everything into their own hands. With diagnosis comes uncertainty, changing any life plans the patient may have made. It is important to recognise the necessity of changing the prioritisation of any plans: think of future goals as being put on hold, as opposed to being utterly gone. The individual’s mental health may take a toll: an estimated 70% of cancer survivors experience depression at some point, and it’s not hard to see why. Patients often lose their fertility, physical independence, sex drive, normal bodily functions, and the physical effects of treatment, which may include surgery or hair loss, can greatly affect their own body image.

To live with cancer or to survive it is a life-changing experience that may be difficult to understand. Knowing this, what’s important is that there is no expectation to understand; more importantly, the key expectation is to try. To those who know someone struggling against cancer, try listening to what they need, but remember to communicate your own thoughts and feelings in the process. Only then can both parties come to a reasonable compromise and move forward together in the war against cancer, where emotional support is needed more than ever. For those who don’t know anyone struggling against cancer, show your support by participating in or simply promoting certain events such as Movember. Ultimately, raising awareness about such issues can lead to early screening, a process that may result in many lives being saved, spared from both the physical and mental traumas that cancer brings into someone’s life.