Chemo

Lemme just say up front, I ain’t no doctor, I ain’t no kind of oncolometrist, and I’m not particularly smart. So, take this entire thing with at least three grains of salt.

It just takes a very small number of cells to come together and decide to try something different. Maybe they don’t like absorbing oxygen out of the nasty air the mouth and nose sends their way. Or, they may have just had one too many gas-station sushis that had to be swept away. Hell, it’s entirely possible that they just don’t want to pull their weight anymore. So, they get together and they decide they’ve had enough.

Now, the body’s gotten pretty good at rooting out these trouble makers, it’s had a few years to get its act together. So, the white blood cells or the body temperature or whatever will usually teach these hooligans some manners. But, every once in while, those little bastards get sneaky. They hatch their little schemes in private, a little at a time. Very gingerly they feel out their friends and family to see if they can rope a few other cells into their chicanery. Very quietly, a few turns into a few hundred, or a few thousand, or even a few million.

By then, the body just can’t really stop them. Maybe they just sit around being obnoxious little gamer-gate assholes. Sometimes, however, it gets darker. Sometimes, it gets Q-er. Before you know it, you have legions of hateful, dangerous, tiki-torch waving little virgin cells marching around trying to enforce their empty-headed little world-view on other cells, threatening or destroying any organ that stands up to them.

Then, they elect trump.

Medicine today is truly amazing, but we are still left with few options for dealing with these cancers. Poison, radiation, or a knife. Violence. It is inelegant, it is painful, and it is ugly. There may have been options early on, before the disease spread and infiltrated other organs, destroying their ability to function normally. But, at this late stage, it’s either eliminate the cancer, or let the cancer kill the body.

Please, don’t get me wrong. This is in no way an incitement to violence. I would love nothing more than to coexist with other cells. There is no reason at all that the liver and the esophagus can’t just do their own things independently, the one never affecting the other. In an ideal world, that is exactly what would happen

But, this ain’t an ideal world. And, that fucking liver just refuses to leave well enough alone. And now, it has extended its reach into the most important, most vital organs. Now, it is a threat to the entire body.

Now, it’s time to get medical up in this shit.

Again, I’ll admit that, being an old white hair growing out of the left ear has allowed me to maintain ass-loads of privelege. This has absolutely been a problem for way longer than my drunk-ass has bothered noticing. It’s not an apology I’m offering, I can’t even imagine who, or how, that would help. It’s an acknowledgment, nothing more. I didn’t take the lead then, and no one wants me to take the lead now. But, for the record, I’m here.

You kids be good. No, be surgical.