Canadian Cancer statistics state that 500 Canadians will be diagnosed with Cancer and 200 Canadians will die from Cancer, every day.
Stories and fear of the dreaded exist in every family tree, around every corner, where we work, where our children school, churches, parks. Maybe that guy over there has it or that little girl in the pink dress, eating her ice cream, or her little dog…also eating the ice cream. It seems no one is immune, it exists, always, in the forbidden corners of our minds, coming out to intervene when needed, at times like:
“What is that mole? Is that new? I never noticed that before.”
“Is that a lump? Is that what one of those lumps feel like?”
I believe this universe we live in is infinite. It goes on in all directions, sizes and time. From open space to multiple universes, solar system, planets, down to human beings, internal organs, blood streams and individual cells.
With this train of thought, I wonder, as technology advances and our ability to see farther, larger, or closer and smaller. What will they see on these destructive cells while searching for the cause and cure for this haunting, life changing disease?
Will it be an alien world, like none ever witnessed before? Will it be a disfigured blood red sphere with random globs of green goop, clinging to the sides? Or will it be something a bit more unexpected, something a little more personal, something even more troubling?
What if the scientist separated this one individual, cancerous cell, set it in a petri dish, placed it under his new super dee-duper, twin turbo charged microscope and the image that reflects back isn’t a bloody world from the great be-little. What if, instead, what he sees on this miniscule cell is…The Sunday afternoon gathering of friends and family in the local park, children playing and laughing on the playground, uncles, aunts and grandparents working together to prepare the picnic. John grabs his lunch pail and kisses his family goodbye before he heads off to work. Then over the hills, large machines drilling and refining nutrients from deep in the cell, large plumes of black smoke slowly engulfing the surface, radioactive waste spewing into the water, another tiny scientist looking through a telescope for a different cell to call home.
What we are doing to this planet is nothing unlike what happens to a diseased cell. Now we are looking past our own planet, or perhaps “cell” for alternative cells to inhabit or harvest.
When Cancer or other form of deadly disease attacks someone we love. It effects us so deeply that the “Fight Against Cancer” groups are some of the very few that can connect people in such a strong, emotional way, on a global scale. We stand strong with pink ribbons and not quite as sexy as Tom Sellek moustaches. That’s how much power we can possess when something tries to take the ones we love, tragedy gives birth to beauty.
So what happens when we are the ones doing the taking?
I’m not a scientist by any means, I even prefer not to write science as I find the vocabulary too challenging. I do have common sense and when I look at our universe as infinite and look at what we are doing to our planet, it seems fairly obvious what role we are playing. Sad to think that in someone else’s universe, we are the ones attacking that special someone. “Sorry Mr. and Mrs Benson but your child has been diagnosed with Human Beings.”
Consider this a look at the bigger picture, the connection between what we fear and what we are.
When someone you love develops a tumor, “We” call it Cancer. If you are the Cancer, “We” call it progress.