It’s disappointing that I feel the need to post this disclaimer, but I would be heartbroken if someone misinterpreted this post to suggest that people with cancer are being punished by God, the Universe or whomever, for something that they’ve done. THIS IS NOT THE CASE and this post is not to be twisted into a perverted view of divine justice. I hope that’s clear.
One thing that I’ve grappled with throughout my cancer experience has been the WHY of it. I don’t like uncertainty and when I looked at the risk factors associated with getting cancer, there was no reason why I should have been saddled with this disease. Yes, I realize that life is not fair, and that these things happen for reasons that we don’t understand. But when you’re in the thick of diagnostics and treatment plans and all that good stuff, you don’t think clearly. Ultimately, there is a reason, but science has not progressed enough yet to provide a definitive explanation.
So, when science can’t answer, we turn to more primal explanations. Being a Catholic, I couldn’t help but think that this was some sort of divine justice. You’ve heard of Catholic guilt? On some level, I carry around a lot of it, more than my share. It’s propelled me to be as exact as possible in all things. When a police car drives by, I fear that I’m doing something wrong. I follow rules. I don’t lie. I keep my promises and hold secrets close. I care, perhaps a touch too much. In effect, I drive myself up a freakin’ wall.
Things had been going well, physically. At 50, I was strong, fit, remarkably healthy and free from a lot of the ailments that many women my age complain of. I had no weight issues, no food issues, loved to exercise and was so happy about that. My lifestyle supported good health and longevity. But then – WHAM! – cancer diagnosis. Maybe I was too happy? Perhaps I was smug? Catholicism makes a big deal of intention, as in not thinking bad things. Whether or not this is actually practiced by members of the faith is a different issue altogether, but that’s the idea. So I immediately thought that perhaps I wasn’t humble enough about my physical state? Despite the fact that I had truly worked for it, avoided indulgences like sugar and alcohol, pushed through discomfort to exercise, maybe my thoughts had brought on some sort of divine anger, and cancer was going to put me in my place.
That’s what I thought. And YES, I am a well-educated individual who understands that mutations in the DNA occur frequently, and the body takes care of them. But mine didn’t, so any reason that seemed to make “sense”…
Even then, I am not so arrogant to garner the attention of a deity. These days, there’s quite a bit of that going around, and I couldn’t hope to compete with the obvious examples that we see in political and entertainment spheres. So it really doesn’t make sense that I would get cancer for that reason. In that case, was my confidence in my good health particularly egregious and insulting to a divine power that I would get singled out?
These are the kinds of thoughts one has in the middle of the night when one has mixed up the order of their anti-nausea medications while that the body is fighting the effects of being slammed by an elephant-sized dose of chemotherapy.
Regardless, the thought processes continue…
Maybe this went so much further than some kindergarten-style retribution? Another cancer survivor had related that the disease was the best thing to ever happen to him. In the middle of chemo, I had a hard time appreciating that. But as the end of treatment started coming into view, I began to grasp what he meant.
Of course, being Catholic, my head went to…maybe this is some sort of odd divine blessing? I have no doubt that God has a sense of humor. I imagined him being bored and seeing me through a break in the puffy white clouds and – ZAP! – I get cancer while he runs and hides behind St. Peter, giggling. So maybe I was being pranked, but in a loving, benevolent kind of way?
Truly, this cancer experience has given me a lot of direction, a sense of purpose that I had lacked. Admittedly, this is imbuing an unchecked genetic blip with a whole lot of divine power. But take the God-figure out of the equation and look at it again. Choose your interpretation. Some random mutation? Or an opportunity to redirect my life in a positive way that benefits others?
Isn’t the latter a far better choice?