I have been thinking about updating my blog for some time now but I have lacked motivation until yesterday when I heard the sad news of Jack Layton’s death. Like so many others, this man has inspired me. On Facebook, over the past 36 hours, many have expressed their admiration for Jack and their sorrow over his passing. Most of the postings are from the youth of the country (my own three children and many of my former students) who have been moved by Jack’s life and his final message. In his letter to Canadians, Jack wrote the following about cancer. “To other Canadians who are on journeys to defeat cancer and to live their lives, I say this: please don’t be discouraged that my own journey hasn’t gone as well as I had hoped. You must not lose your own hope. Treatments and therapies have never been better in the face of this disease. You have every reason to be optimistic, determined, and focused on the future. My only other advice is to cherish every moment with those you love at every stage of your journey, as I have done this summer.” Wise words indeed.
Today, I saw Dr. Bovett, my chemo oncologist, in my regular appointment as part of the Beatrice Study. As he examined me, we talked a little bit about Jack. We discussed the language that is used to describe someone who is afflicted with cancer, the dragon slayer concept of “battling an enemy”, and of “winning or losing the fight”. I had read an article online in the Globe and Mail which addressed this issue (“Jack Layton Didn’t Lose a Fight: He Died of Cancer”) and then I read a similar column by Joe Fiorito in today’s Star (“The Last Battle for a Happy Warrior”).
Every day, I am thankful that I am still very much alive, thriving in fact, two years after my cancer treatment ended. In March, I saw my surgical oncologist, who told me that my latest mammogram results were ideal. This was wonderful news for me since it gave me a clean bill of health two years after my diagnosis. Apparently the two-year mark is quite significant: very few cancers return after 24 months.
Cancer can be treated. Some people, like me, respond well to treatment and find themselves cancer-free. We are the lucky ones. Others, like Jack, are unfortunate and no matter how positive their attitudes are, their cancer returns, and is even more aggressive than the first time. Surviving this disease is not based on merit or effort or attitude; otherwise Jack would still be with us, wouldn’t he?
Unfortunately, there are too many like Jack. Peter Polley, the wonderful man I filled in for at York Mills last year, succumbed to pancreatic cancer in January, while my long-time Woburn colleague, Vivienne Preston-Welburn, died from the same cancer on August 7th. A neighbour told me last month that she is undergoing breast cancer treatment. This sort of news is all too common.
I believe the best way to wage war against cancer is to support cancer research. To extend the metaphor, it is in the laboratories that advances against this common enemy are made all the time and that battles can be won. Every year, thousands of people take part in the Terry Fox Run, or the weekend to end Breast Cancer, or Movember. For my part, on October 2nd, I will once again participate in the Run for the Cure. My daughter, Jess, has organized a team for the second year: our name is HAKUNA MA TA-TAs. Amusing. If you would like to support me on this day, you can access my personal page at this address:
http://www.runforthecure.com/site/TR/RunfortheCure2012/Ontario?px=1317104&pg=personal&fr_id=1290
Jack’s final words about cherishing our loved ones resonate with me. I will also try to heed his advice to be loving, hopeful and optimistic, because it is how we live our lives that matters, not how long we live them.
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