Cancer is not only an intrusive, malignant replication of cells that “live desperately, inventively, violently, territorially, haphazardly and defensively” in the body, as Siddhartha Mukherjee wrote in “The Emperor of All Diseases,” however it all the time carries with it the whiff of death. At its best, cancer is something to be vigilant about and manage. At worst, it destroys. For every one, a cancer diagnosis comes with an awareness of mortality. For many individuals, especially young, healthy people, this looks as if a betrayal.
“I had the easiest breast cancer I could ever have,” Dr. Blumberg told me, “and that worried me.” She was diagnosed on the age of 46 and is currently 52 years old. “It creates a sense of shame that your body has failed you at this age. I remember feeling a little lightheaded. Kind of weak. Like I used to be embarrassed that my body showed a vulnerability I didn’t expect to have. I felt the identical. We each also clearly understood how lucky we were to have small cancers, medical insurance, and doctors we could contact by phone.
But for Catherine, whose royal image is related to lithe and athleticism and who has been photographed running, boating, mountain biking and playing rugby, the news should be unsustainable. Processing the truth of cancer – and the potential for dryness, weakness and ugliness – when the public’s stakes for her health and sweetness are so high, amidst the malicious torrent of social media, should be outrageous.
With every cancer diagnosis, the query arises of who to inform and when. And because cancer still brings with it such a deep sense of failure and shame, talking about it is fraught with fear of judgment. When Susan Sontag wrote “Illness as Metaphor” in 1978, doctors in Italy and France didn’t tell anyone however the “most mature and intelligent” patients about a cancer diagnosis, fearing that “the truth would be unbearable.” “Patients who know what they have are usually extremely prudish, if not downright secretive, about their illness,” she wrote. When, 40 years later, at my previous job, it was suggested that I tell the HR manager about my breast cancer, I flinched. I tell every part to my friends, but I feel that I do not know this man well enough to confess that I actually have a disease in my left breast.
The willingness to reveal details of cancer varies greatly and relies on the character and severity of the diagnosis, the patient’s support systems and responsibilities, and, after all, gender. “Cancer treatment, like all life, doesn’t occur in a vacuum. It takes place inside the system of relationships,” the authors wrote article from 2003 about cancer treatment. Year 2009 analysis confirmed the convention that young men tend to be stoic, but noted that women can also feel responsible for how others receive the news. “Women described attempting to ‘protect’ or ‘distance’ their families from the diagnosis, and several other specifically mentioned their efforts to stay optimistic,” the researchers wrote.
