Great way to start the weekend

Almost nine years ago, the first symptoms I experienced that eventually led to the diagnosis of CNS lymphoma seemed to be visual. I found I was increasing the font size on everything and still having trouble reading it. It turned out that my visual acuity had not changed, but that this was a cognitive issue caused by the cancerous growth in my brain. Although the cancer is gone, the deficit caused by the damage remains. So early on Barry bought me a large monitor for my computer. But lately that monitor was behaving badly, in that it would keep “losing” the signal from the computer. After living with this and kvetching about it for a number of months, all the while insisting that I did not want to spend money on a new monitor, Barry ordered one which he set up early this morning. What a wonderful difference! And as an added benefit, the quality of this monitor is quite a bit better than the old one. I am very happy and grateful for how well he takes of me.

I have two videos to share this morning. The first came from yesterday’s daily update from New York State Governor Andrew Cuomo, reassuring folks about the safety of the COVID vaccines and encouraging vaccination.

The second was shared by my friend Randy, a terrific version of Leonard Cohen’s classic “Hallelujah” for our times.

With this post, I will likely hit 80,000 views on this blog! Thanks for continuing to follow my ramblings.

Enjoy, and have a great and healthy weekend.

Love,                                           

Rebecca

 

Cancer as a metaphor

Over 10 years ago, The Oncologist published an article on cancer as a metaphor. 

We often talk to patients about fighting their cancer and winning the war, and that is often how we think about oncology. We invoke military imagery to help us describe the ordeal our patients go through.

With all due respect to the journal editors, it seems to me that this was a bit backwards. I think the more correct phrasing is that we use fighting a war as a metaphor for the treatment of cancer.

 

We have inundated our language with bellicose metaphors. Take, for instance, the language of immunology: lymphocytes are “deployed” or “mobilized,” the protagonists are “killer” cells and the images are all of “battles” for supremacy and survival. Clinicians talk about a “therapeutic armamentarium,” and I am sure many of us tell our patients that we know of a new “magic bullet.”

In the next paragraph, the article goes on to say

 

The fact is that Richard Nixon and Ted Kennedy started to talk about the war on cancer in the 1970s, and we have had updates ever since.

At the end of 1971, President Nixon signed into law the National Cancer Act, one of the highlights of his otherwise dark legacy:

National Cancer Act of 1971

The National Cancer Institute was established in its current form by the National Cancer Act of 1971, signed into law by President Richard Nixon. This legislation was an amendment to the Public Health Service Act of 1944 and represented the US commitment to what President Nixon described as the “war on cancer,” which had become the nation’s second leading cause of death by 1970.

Admittedly we are still some way from achieving the lofty goals included in the 1971 legislation, but we have certainly made significant progress.

While I may have occasionally slipped into battle language in over 8 years of writing this blog, I have to admit I have never been especially fond of its use. If I am fighting a war, who exactly is the enemy? I can only see two possibilities. The first is that we are our own worst enemies in that our unhealthy lifestyles have contributed to our disease. That explanation is simply a guilt with which no one receiving a cancer diagnosis would care to live. The second is that cancer is caused by some Divine Being. That explanation would seem to fly in the face of everything we are supposed to believe about religion and its role in our lives. Perhaps it is the statistician in me, but I just look at this as a largely random outcome of being a human being, nothing more, nothing less.

I have thought of this often during these past eight years, but I was reminded of it yesterday when I heard United States Senator Mitch McConnell say that “loony lies and conspiracy theories are cancer for the Republican Party and our country.” While war may not be an appropriate metaphor for cancer, perhaps cancer is an appropriate metaphor for the war currently raging in this country. Ridding our body politic of this “disease” will require significant effort to reduce the anger that has come to dominate our lives and allow that “cancer” to flourish.

Are we up to the task?

Love,                                           

Rebecca

 

Making the best of what seems to be a raw deal

 

We recently watched a fascinating documentary film called “Dealt,” which is about a card magician named Richard Turner. Mr. Turner’s talents would be impressive under any circumstances, but what makes his story particularly unique and moving is that he is blind.

He began to lose his eyesight after being diagnosed with scarlet fever that caused macular degeneration when he was 9 years old, and was essentially unable to see by the time he was a teenager. By adulthood, he could no longer distinguish between a fully lit room and total darkness. That transition initially led to self-destructive behaviors but eventually he found his calling in decks of cards, of which he owns over 5000, which you see neatly stacked in their little boxes in the home he shares with his wife, Kim, in San Antonio.

One aspect that perhaps distinguishes Mr. Turner from other blind people is his insistence on not to allowing himself to easily be identified as blind. He never learned braille, and only in recent years did he finally agree to use a seeing eye dog. The film also introduces us to his sister, Lori, who suffers from the same disease which she has approached in a more conventional way.

A shout out to our friend Joanne for recommending this fascinating film.

Love,                                           

Rebecca

 

 

We should be able to do better

Yesterday I was chatting with a long-time friend in Sharon. She is 65, but Massachusetts appears to have sufficient coronavirus vaccine to provide immunizations to individuals 75 and older. Further, that distribution is not going particularly well, leaving many seniors struggling to figure out where to go and how to set up appointments. That latter problem is common to many states. Although our government knew for months and months that this was coming, setting up the infrastructure to make it all happen was left to localities that are ill prepared to deal with the distribution at the same time they are dealing with all the pain and suffering the virus has left in its wake. 

After we spoke, I was stunned to see this ranking of the pandemic response in 98 countries. The categories used in the rankings included total confirmed cases and total deaths (raw numbers and rates per million population), number of tests performed and number of cases confirmed for each test performed. New Zealand, Vietnam, Taiwan, and Thailand had the best overall performances in the ranking. Shockingly, the United States ranked 94^th, followed by Iran, Colombia, Mexico, and Brazil. 

I am certain that this is not the only way to look the numbers. Another site that has quite a bit of data is the one compiled by Johns Hopkins University of Medicine.

Mortality in Most Affected Countries

While the United States is certainly not the worst country, we are nowhere near where it would seem that a country as wealthy and educated as we are should be. We rank 4^th in the number of deaths per 100,000 population, better than only the United Kingdom, Czechia, and Italy.

We have a lot of work to do, and every second counts. At the moment, we here in the northeast find ourselves buried in over a foot of snow, which will mean numerous cancellations of appointments for vaccinations, causing more anguish, pain, and suffering all around.

Just do your best to stay safe and warm and dry.

Love,                                           

Rebecca

In and of itself

For someone who usually has quite a bit to say, I am completely stymied trying to write about the new Hulu original movie, “In and Of Itself,” directed by Frank Oz and starring Derek DelGaudio. Here is the brief description on Rotten Tomatoes, which gave the film a score of 100%:

 

DEREK DELGAUDIO’S IN & OF ITSELF is a new kind of lyric poem. It tells the story of a man fighting to see through the illusion of his own identity, only to discover that identity itself is an illusion. An intimate and powerful exploration of what it means to be and be seen, the film chronicles Derek DelGaudio’s attempt to answer one deceptively simple question, “Who am I?” His personal journey expands to a collective experience that forces us to confront the boundaries of our own identities.

 

 

The movie is a compilation of scenes from various performances of the show, which ran on Broadway from May 2016 to August 2018 at the Daryl Roth Theatre in lower Manhattan’s Union Square. Steven Colbert, along with his wife Evelyn, were the Executive Producers of the film, having made it after seeing DelGaudio’s live performance.  I am attaching here a recent interview with Oz and DelGaudio on “The Late Show with Steven Colbert.”

 

If you have time, give it a try and see what you think. It is indeed a quite unusual experience during these rather unusual times.

Meanwhile, or as Colbert now calls the segment, “Quarantinewhile”, the snow is falling quite heavily. I was supposed to go into The City for a couple of medical appointments this morning but I have rescheduled them to Thursday. Thanks to Barry, who tracks and manages the grocery orders, the larder is well stocked and we are safely and warmly at home.

Take care!

Love,                                           

Rebecca

 

addendum to previous post

 

p.s. Thanks to a friend for pointing out something I had not fully considered. What might work well for a group of retirees learning for pleasure almost assuredly does NOT work well for school children or even young adults who are college students. So, while I am happy to have the opportunity to learn in this phygital environment, it has significant shortcomings for educating the next generation for which we may pay a high price long into the future.

New vocabulary for our times

Yesterday during one of our weekly “Zoom” classes at Hebrew Institute, a course taught by Rabbi Steven Exler in which we are studying The Book of Isaiah, he began musing about the day we all hope will come when we can resume learning in person. But he was quick to recognize that the remote format may continue to be appropriate for some participants for any variety of reasons, and he introduced a word I had not heard: Phygital. After class, I could not resist trying to learn more about this.

 

Phygital (physical plus digital) is a marketing term that describes blending digital experiences with physical ones.

I searched and found some interesting discussions about this. Most of the material I found focused on commercial applications.

 

You may not realize it, but COVID-19 has accelerated the existence of phygital experiences in your life. No, that wasn’t a typo - phygital experiences are ones in which technology and traditional physical experiences blend so seamlessly that they create new and better ways of accomplishing everyday tasks. We like to say they become immersive because they simply and effortlessly become a convenient part of your everyday life.

 

A classic example of phygital is using a kiosk. Whether at the airport, a bank, or restaurant, a kiosk makes it possible for users to accomplish routine tasks quickly and efficiently using digital technology in a specific physical space. Just about everyone has used one and they’ve become so commonplace and accepted that most consumers don’t even think about this as a digital experience - it’s just the way things are done.

I used to go to these classes in person, which I could do easily with my scooter. The vast majority of the participants would walk over; being in the City, the synagogue does not have a parking lot and on-street parking is limited.  But whenever the weather was rainy or too cold, I would just stay home. Further, we have a number of participants who spend the winter months in warmer climates. Now all of us are able to Zoom in to classes. So, while I do miss the camaraderie that comes from in-person learning, phygital would seem to be a win-win all around.

Have a warm and restful weekend.

Love,                                            

Rebecca