Read cancer

By Edmée Pardo

When I write and read cancer, I do it with the C of compassion because the C of that crab is a cannon shot that asks us to reflect on the fragility of existence. The word cancer brings with it a complex language, full of scientific terms that often seems incomprehensible and distant, but that speaks of something profoundly human and everyday: the body, life, vulnerability. Each word used by doctors describes what is happening at the cellular level, as well as the technical and chemical procedures to be followed, but in front of each word there is a story of diagnosis, hope, struggle, victory or mourning.  

To detect cancer, chemical laboratory tests, imaging tests and pathology tests are performed. In medical reports, cancer is read in numbers and percentages: levels of malignant cells, stages, prognoses. PET scans take images of active cancer cells, happy to eat the sugar previously ingested by the patient. The CA-125 index is a tumor marker. High CA levels can be a sign of cancer. The biopsy is a study that is done by removing a small part of the tumor and determines the malignancy of the tumor. These numbers and images are translated into a diagnosis. Each number corresponds to a concern or a hope. Reading the results of the studies is not only an intellectual reading, it carries a great emotional burden for the patient and those who accompany him/her. 

Cancer has its positive side, it is a huge engine that moves consciences, foundations, companies, sports, artists, intellectuals, politicians and public policies, researchers, scientists, medical and care personnel, because most of us have had a close or personal experience with cancer. Few diseases have so much visibility. And the fact is that, if treated in time, cancer may not be a fatal disease.

Cancer has generated a great collective narrative. Personal experiences in the form of testimonies, diaries, memoirs, novels, short stories and films allow us to enter into the experience of cancer from a more intimate angle. In these texts we find what this C of change really is: the altered reality of someone who, out of love for his body and life, fights against his own body and hurts it in order to stay alive. 

For my part, I have written three books about cancer for children. The first, Illness is spelled with a C, inspired by my brother's diagnosis and his young children. The second, El brasier de mamá, inspired by a friend's bilateral mastectomy, her foundation, and the desire to give a self-care tool to her daughters and all the girls in the world. And the third, Los luchadores, as part of the collection Leer Para Sanar, one of the 16 stories that talk about the urgent issues of Mexican children. 

To read and write about cancer is to understand that the disease is suffered by a single person, but that his or her entire immediate circle is affected. It is to read about love, pain, solidarity, self-care, patience and the enormous resilience with which humanity is endowed.

The opinions expressed are the responsibility of the authors and are absolutely independent of the position and editorial line of the company. Opinion 51.