Breast Cancer Close to Home

My Mom and Me, 1973

My Mom is having a mastectomy today. I wish I had any confidence in the medical system’s ability to diagnose, treat or even understand breast cancer. Or any kind of illness, really.

But with breast cancer in particular I’ve seen so many women tortured with the current preventative and curative methods. Maybe it’s because of the obscene amounts of money involved in every single procedure that I can’t help but suspect that the entire system is a self-perpetuating profit machine.

This pink campaign for the month of October, which extends even into the ultimate macho arena of NFL football, makes how much money in socks and hats and banners and whatnot?

Meanwhile there are women in this country who can’t even afford health care to get tested or treated. There are women being treated who are having to spend their life savings, sell their houses, run their families into terrifying debt, just to hope that the doctors have a clue what they’re doing.

My Mom and I in Arkansas, 1971

I hope that my Mom’s surgery today has the best possible outcome. I hope that there is the absolute minimum of pain and discomfort, and I’m including the pain of the extreme fear that is generated by this cancer machine. She, as well as all women, deserve healing, wholeness and peace of mind.

Is there any of this in our current cancer program?

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