January 25, 2010

deathbed divorce

File this one under Say Word! — my new designation for cancer news that is downright unbelievable or bizarre.

The man himself

Word around the blogosphere is that actor Dennis Hopper, who is losing his battle to prostate cancer, is filing for divorce from his wife of 13 years. When the story broke last week, Hopper promptly wished his soon-to-be-ex the best but said he only wants to be surrounded by loved ones in the days ahead.

The wife’s friends are calling it a slap in the face. They claim Hopper wants to cut her out of his will before he kicks the bucket.

I have to admit that when I first heard the news, I thought it sounded heartless, even rash. I’ve heard of deathbed conversions. Even deathbed confessions. But a deathbed divorce? Well, that’s kinda of gangsta.

But then again, maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s a gutsy move more of us would admire if only we’d dig below the surface.

As is usually the case surrounding breakups, there’s likely more to the story. But leave it to those Access Hollywood types, who reported the “astonishing news,” to peg Hopper as some cruel and spiteful dead man walking.

Fortunately, I’ve taken the liberty of offering my unconfirmed yet expert theory in defense of the actor’s decision.

Hopper was diagnosed with cancer last year. His wife — his fifth by the way— stood by his side during the difficult time. A noble woman indeed. But there’s nothing like cancer to test the very core of a relationship.

A lot of couples don’t make it, as my boyfriend’s friend was kind enough to remind me on New Year’s Eve. To be fair, he speaks from experience. His ex-wife is a survivor, and her battle with the beast partly led to their demise. After they split up, he looked up statistics about how many married cancer patients wind up divorcing. Forty percent, according to some studies.

Initially, I was taken aback when he shared his unpleasant facts so soon after we counted down to midnight. But I realize now that he was just lamenting the breakup of his marriage.

Plenty of other couples though vow never to let each other go after cancer. In fact, I know more married survivors than I do divorced ones.

But what about the gray area? That in-between place where life rarely fits into neatly defined packages. This could be where Hopper dwells. In the gray space, there’s no right or wrong, good or bad, mean or nice. Here, once-healthy relationships sometimes run their course — even for cancer patients who have more yesterdays than they do tomorrows.

What I find most interesting about Hopper’s decision is that it challenges almost everything we’ve come to believe about living out one’s final days. Most of us grew up with images of the grieving spouse at the bedside, comforted by family and friends. So it’s a shocker to witness Hopper call a time-out late in the game and then change his lineup. Furthermore, we expect that when there is a breakup, it’s the healthy person who leaves the sick one, not the other way around.

Whatever the reasons for Hopper’s divorce, his notion of “loved one” no longer has room for his former spouse. It’s a bold move for sure, one I’m not convinced I could follow.

Chances are though he’s motivated by something far less sinister than hurting his wife. He could simply be grateful for the time he has left and plans to use it wisely. Or he may just want to be happy, no matter how bad the press.

Clearly, he refuses to let cultural norms dictate how he rolls. And why should he? Even in the face of a sobering prognosis, life is always there to be lived. The key is to do it with no regrets.

‘’

January 12, 2010

health care hangover

Watching the health care bill make its last rounds is like being at a New Year’s bash a few hours too long. At first, it’s all fun and excitement. But after the height of the celebration, when all the optimism of what’s to come has grown faint, it feels like a big, fat drag.

I was all hyped, for example, about universal coverage. As far as I’m concerned, there are times when the government has to ensure that resources are distributed equitably. And health care is just one such issue.

No matter, though. When conservatives cried foul, the president quickly ditched the idea for the seemingly more palatable public option, which was in and then it was out, and then it was in again and now it’s out.

Who can keep up? It’s difficult to figure out which reform is actually part of the reform. And am I the only one who feels like the entire debate has gone from energizing to energy draining? These days, health care reminds me of last week’s hangover: heavy, tiresome and short on fun.

In the latest non-progress surrounding the bill, the Senate race in Massachusetts is closer than Democrats expected. The party is in danger of losing its majority, which it needs to push health care legislation through. A surprise win for the GOP in Ted Kennedy’s old seat would no doubt be a setback for the Dems. In turn, that would likely delay the bill further, which translates into critical setbacks for me and many others.

You see, I’m one of those Americans who would be denied insurance coverage because of my preexisting condition, even if I pay for it out of pocket. My medical history sends up clouds of black smoke to carriers. But under the new health care bill, discriminating against folks based on health conditions would be illegal.

In the interim, a program like Medicare could offer a reprieve for people in my situation. Under the new bill, Medicare will be expanded to include Americans with serious diseases under the age of 65. These measures, however, take time to implement, and a languishing bill is only exasperating matters. According to a piece written by DNC Chairman Howard Dean, most Americans wouldn’t see the benefits of the bill until 2014.

A lot of good that’s doing for the uninsured or underinsured today.

The latest news out of Washington is that there will likely be another version of the health care bill before lawmakers agree on one. I’m feeling like they’ve had one too many already.

December 21, 2009

CAT scan queen

CAT scan machines: no fun and possibly dangerous?

The test used to detect cancer may also cause it. Little surprise there. In yet another one of life’s twisted schemes, the things that help us often turn out to be the things that hurt us.

According to recent reports, radiation from CAT scans is higher than previously thought and could be linked to increased cancer risk.

The cruel reality, though, is that for cancer patients — especially newbies like me — CAT scans are a regular part of life.

I get one every three months.

And when my doctor wants to gauge how well a drug is working.

And whenever my CA-125 — a protein found in ovarian cancer cells — is high.

And when I feel especially sick.

And, well, all the damn time.

Even for those in remission, CAT scans are a necessary part of staying cancer free. Generally, the protocol is a CAT scan every three months, then every six months for the first five years after treatment ends, and then once a year. Cancer and CAT scans go together like chemo and collapsed veins.

So what caused investigators to raise the alarm now? The report cited two reasons: Over the last two decades, the number of patients undergoing CAT scans has increased dramatically, from 3 million in 1980 to 70 million in 2007. That’s a heck of a lot of X-rays. Enough to cause concern within the medical community.

Equally alarming, the study noted, are all the unnecessary scans that have been going down. Allegedly, they’ll lead to 29,000 new cancer diagnoses this year, most of which will result from scans of the abdomen and pelvis — the only kind I get.

I’m starting to wonder what’s left in the world that isn’t potentially cancerous. From medical procedures to microwaves, there seems to be an unlimited number of cancer-causing agents.

Not long ago, I was talking to a professor whose book I’m editing. He’s a pretty fit 70-year-old who has been running marathons and eating healthy for the better part of his life. We met for lunch in Manhattan to talk business, and he couldn’t decide what to order. When I suggested that he try the smoked salmon salad, which I get all the time, he told me it was filled with carcinogens. Something about the smoking process, he began to explain, but I promptly checked out of the convo, because I eat smoked salmon all the time.

In fact, on a trip to Alaska in July, I’m sure I put away several pounds of the fatty, unctuous fish. Should I consider eliminating that, too?

Nah.

I’ve concluded, salmon fishers will be happy to know, that I should no more give up the foods I love than I should my quarterly X-rays. In my case, the benefits of both surely outweigh the harm.

And although that’s not true for the thousands who might be diagnosed with cancer as a result of radiation exposure, until some new and improved method of finding and monitoring malignant tumors is discovered, we’re left with few options besides limiting the number of scans we undergo.

That’s certainly my plan for 2010. Because as per my last X-ray images, I have no visible signs of the disease, which means I won’t be the CAT scan queen for much longer. The number of appointments I’ll have next year that involve exposing my organs to radiation should max out at two tops. And that’s fine by me.  I’m more than happy to renounce my title.