Israel fights cancer… Alone

By: John Richards Posted: November 20, 2012 No Comments

Israel has cancer. It’s a very rare form that attacks few. Its name is Hamasanoma. Like all cancers, if you don’t fight it’s a certain death sentence.

When you’re first diagnosed those you think of as friends offer encouragement. They tell you “I’m here for you.” and “We’ll fight this together.” And some are probably well-intentioned and even think they’re in it with you. Others though are really just making nice with your family. But until Hamasaloma attacks them they can’t know. No one can know what the attack does to the body, the toll it takes on every last cell, day after day. Then you realize they’re not really there. Maybe it’s really their way of making themselves feel better, making themselves believe they have some super power over the insidious invading cells intent on killing you.

And then they’re the doctors. Each with their own treatment protocols. Some days it seems there are more treatment protocols than there are doctors.

Some say you can’t rid yourself of Hamasanoma, you can only control it. You’ll beat it back for awhile but you can’t kill it, it will return and you’ll beat it back again. Others will say you need to fight it with everything you’ve got in an epic battle for your very survival. But then they warn you that this aggressive treatment itself could be fatal.

So you start out with the safer treatment. Convincing yourself you can somehow control this killer inside you, that you can coexist with this disease. That the treatment’s toll on your body won’t be all that bad, that you will learn to live with it as you have so many other trials in your life. You convince yourself if I do this maybe it will cease its relentless attacks on your cells, maybe it’ll just stop and go away.

You don’t hear from friends as often. They seemed to have moved on to deal with their own lives.

And you grow a little weaker with each round, you’ve lost some cells you know will never return. Then you get used to a weaker state as the new normal. You hope you’re not kidding yourself but doubts persist.

Meanwhile the invading Hamasanoma cells seem to mutate after each round of treatment, becoming stronger as they find new and better ways to defeat you’re body’s immune system.

With each new battle you grow to the understanding it won’t stop, it’s never going to simply go away. This disease does not know logic, as there is no logic in a disease whose victory kills the very host it depends on for its own survival. Hamasanoma knows no truce.

Then the man you thought to be your best friend says some kind words about you but it occurs to you he doesn’t call you anymore, you’re the one who’s making the calls. Maybe it’s to ease his guilty conscience, maybe just to stay on the good side of your family.

Many of your cells are weakened to the point they’re sending signals to your brain “no more, just leave me to die”. Others, although weaker now, tell the brain to never give up, to fight with everything you’ve got left, to take the aggressive route because death without the fight has no honor.

And you come to the realization that your friends have left you. They’ve given up on you. You’ve been written off as a lost cause, if they even remember you. You understand, finally, it was your supposed best friend who brought the carcinogen that causes this disease to your doorstep. Adding insult to injury this man thinks he can get this cancer to agree to a truce. To leave you be. Powerless but alive. How naïve he is.

You either fight it or you die. And you choose to fight. You fight both the cancer and the weakness it’s created within you. You fight alone. In the end, survival. Your body has been weakened but somehow you’ve survived, with a new resolve, with a new confidence in your future. And why not, you’ve survived Hamasanoma. Later you realize that you weren’t truly alone in this battle and that’s when you thank God.

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