MY CANCER: THE MYTH VS REALITY

(Spoiler: It’s not my cancer, your cancer, or anyone’s cancer. It’s just cancer and it needs killing instead of you, me, or anyone else.)

Calling something as awful as cancer, “My cancer,” doesn’t feel right. I don’t claim ownership, I’ll never claim ownership.

My loyal readers know the rest of the story, that cancer gets to claim ownership; we get to wear it down until it dies, hopefully way before it takes us out.

The American Sexual Health Association has a page titled HPV Stories that leads with a video called Cervical Cancer Survivor Stories: Part 2.

I scrolled to a few dropdown menus that included “My Cervical Cancer,” and stopped.

People need some counseling on why not to say, “My (fill in the blank) cancer.” I said it once in front of the wrong person and got a nice blast back. The scene is in my work in progress, but the general idea was admitting I wasn’t the special cancer guy with ‘my cancer’ that made me more important than anyone else with any other kind of cancer.

At the time I was certain I was in my special cancer window, only to have it shattered.

Counselors need to step up for the people who say, “my cancer.” If you can’t find a therapist, I’ll help: it’s not your cancer and you don’t want it hanging around any longer than it takes to kill if fucking dead!

I arrived on the sexual health page from a link in the NY Times story headlined “Stopping the Anxiety of HPV” by Jen Gunter.

Jen Gunter? I read twitter posts from @DrJenGunter.

Jennifer Gunter is one of the best slap down artists on twitter when anyone ventures into her arena. What arena? From her twitter bio:

“OB/GYN, appropriately confident, lasso of truth, Canadian Spice, I speak for no one but me. The Vagina Bible (8/27), Host of Jensplaining, NYT contributor.”

Same Jen? I think so.

And she’s got a book.

This caught me in the Times article:

Another source of shame and anxiety is that it is difficult to tell where an HPV infection may have come from. HPV can lie dormant in the body for years before it is seen on a screening. So, the HPV diagnosed today could have been acquired from a current sexual partner or any previous one. Adding to the confusion is that men and women under the age of 21 won’t know if they are infectious as they are not routinely screened.

(Bear with a moment while I make this all about me and put in a book plug: Hpv16 neck cancer pounced on me unawares after a few decades of dedicated marriage and I felt an overwhelming need to re-establish my legacy of fidelity with my wife. Since she’s a naturopathic doctor, I look back and feel a little silly. She knows this stuff, yet I persisted.)

Some people may worry that the HPV infection is a result of a partner’s infidelity. But since men are not screened for genital HPV, a woman has no way of knowing if her current male partner was shedding HPV that was acquired two months or two years ago.

(Again, me: The more I cleared my already clear name, the more guilty I felt, and the more, well, not shame, but something. Did skin cancer patients, lung cancer victims, brain cancer people, or any other cancer people have to explain to their spouse that they didn’t get cancer from some slinky affair last week, last month, or last year? Sex cancer pitches up a real curveball. Do married jackasses in the Notell Motel maintain proper cheater protocol or dive into everything headfirst? And what is proper protocol for married jackasses in the Notell Motel?)

This uncertainty over the source and the timing of the infection is admittedly frustrating, even more so for people with a history of known infidelity or sexual assault. If the “from whom” or the “when” is a sticking point for you, especially if you have dealt with previous sexual trauma, a psychologist may be able to help with support and reframing.

Hpv is not a welcome visitor; Hpv16 cancer is a thief that will steal a life. My final idea, a blogger idea, is linking Dr. Gunter to Hpv&Me and introducing Pamela Tom.

You two have a lot to talk about.