There has been a lot of cancer around me recently, and I've been doing a lot of thinking about it. This week, America paused upon the passing of actress Farrah Fawcett after her bout with cancer. There was another passing from cancer, far more significant in my mind, that I wanted to share with you. And an excellent piece in the Times that anyone who has ever given to cancer research, or who has a loved one with cancer, should pause upon too.
It was on June 23 that Dr. Jerri Nielsen-Fitzgerald, author of Ice Bound, passed away at 57 after suffering for many years from breast cancer. In 1999, the recently divorced Dr. Neilsen took a doctor's position in Antarctica as a way of blowing up her life and starting over. As Ice Bound details, she soon discovered an aggressive breast cancer in herself, at a remote locale where she could not leave for months and where there were no other doctors. In an amazing act of courage, Nielsen biopsied herself, with the help of nonmedical crew who practiced using needles on raw chicken. The month after she found her cancer, the Air Force parachuted chemotherapy drugs to her in temperatures so low that landing would be impossible, and this gutsy lady treated herself. And while flights to Antarctica were typically not attempted until late October or November, the Air National Guard heroically flew Dr. Nielsen out on October 6, in the coldest landing and takeoff ever attempted at the McMurdo research station -- 58 degrees below zero -- whisking her away for treatment that ultimately won many years of remission for her.
But the real interest I have in Dr. Nielsen-Fitzgerald is neither in the medical details or the adventure story, though they are gripping. It is in how the cancer changed her attitude about living, instilling in her a spirit of trying to be herself fully and to live her life fully and well, without being maudlin about her illness nor unmindful of it. She considered the year in Antarctica the best year of her life despite what happened there.
As she wrote to her parents during her time in Antarctica: "More and more as I am here and see what life really is, I understand that it is not when or how you die but how and if you truly were ever alive." This was not some tossed off piece of bravado. Dr. Nielsen came to peace with her illness and mortality in a way both philosophical and engaging. As she remarked at a lecture: "I would rather not have it. But the cancer is part of me. It's given my life color and texture. Everyone has to get something. Some people are ugly, some people are stupid. I get cancer."
I love that quote. Maybe it was the doctor in her, seeing the cancer as a thing that happens, and then seeing it happen in her. Maybe Antarctica, the deep isolation and inward focus McMurdo brings to its inhabitants, concentrated her mind on what her life was, moment to moment. Whatever it was, she had a mastectomy, wrote a well-received book, became an inspirational speaker, and when her remission ended and she knew she would die, kept living and lecturing and inspiring people until very near her passing. A hell of an example for everyone of living fully, and incidentally a demonstration that cancer does not stop life and living it. There's no point in comparing her death to that of actress Farrah Fawcett, but with respect to both, I find a lot of meaning in Dr. Nielsen-Fitzgerald's life and wish this week's media herd had noticed her.
Relatedly, the New York Times is running a very significant piece today about the continuing fight against cancer. By prize-winning journalist Gina Kolata, the piece explains that the politics (or maybe more precisely, the economics) of funding cancer research lead the research pie to be divided into a host of pieces, generally devoted to small, incremental gains. The point is that real innovations may require funding paradigm-shifting research, some of which may be speculative. The medical research establishment does not want to take a flyer on low-percentage-of-success, high-benefit-if-successful projects. Compounding that reality, some innovative ideas will not yet have the pedigree in terms of clinical trials to have earned more funding -- as one doctor points out in the article, that's the whole point of seeking the first funding for novel approaches.
Kolata's piece brought to mind a few thoughts. For one thing, when one raises money for cancer research, the pitch is always to find fundamental solutions -- cures. It's the "Race for the Cure," right? But the reality is that cancer research is focused on incrementalism. Given that incrementalism hasn't accomplished anything transformative since Nixon declared war on cancer in 1971, Kolata's point, one I had not seen in the media previously, seems important. Let's throw a few long balls in this area, and fund more intendedly transformative projects. Another point is the danger to public discourse from the continuing demise of print media. While we still have a great journalist like Kolata on the health beat, the greater primacy of blogging and even (yecch) Twitter threatens long-form journalism. Let's link and support excellent long-form pieces, if our heads can still hold more than 160 characters.
And if they can, Dr. Nielsen-Fitzgerald's book might be good to check out too. Peace, over and out.
