Why would you want to go into oncology?
by Jaime R. Herndon, MS
When I hear that someone I know has cancer, my reaction is always the same: my heart sinks to the ground, and I feel this surge of being pressed for time...as in, we need to do more for cancer-NOW. No doubt my interest in oncology stemmed from a friend of mine dying when he was 13 and I was 12, of leukemia. And the following year, watching a friend of mine go through treatment for a brain tumor. And as the years went on, my mother's breast cancer scares, my grandfather's lung cancer.
Most recently, it's my grandmother's brain tumor and a mentor's breast cancer. I study cancer in the hopes that in the future, kids will never have to experience it first-hand. I study it so that "slash, burn, poison" becomes a thing of the past. I study it because I hate that chemo drugs are so toxic to a person's body that they can cause heart damage and leukemia, among other things. Because no new chemotherapeutic drugs have been made specially for children in decades, because it's not "profitable." Because 1 in 8 women is 1 too many to have breast cancer. Because the feelings of fear and helplessness that can accompany a cancer experience are things too horrible to describe. Because I've donated platelets and had to hold back the tears when I was thanked. Because remission is NOT good enough, we need cures. Because the cumulative budget of the NCI for the past 3 decades is equal to what we spend in Iraq in 9 months. Because there is controversy over the vaccine for HPV, which can help prevent cervical cancer. Because I pray every night that she stays in remission and my heart stopped when she told me she had a scare last month. Because too many people lack support during and after their ordeal. I read about cancer because right now, there is no good screening test for ovarian cancer. Because young adults are the only demographic group in which there has not been a decrease in the incidence of cancer diagnoses and deaths. Because there's a stigma still with so many cancers.
I study cancer in the hopes that one day, Memorial Sloan-Kettering and M.D. Anderson will no longer be needed. So that no woman has to make the decision about whether to keep her breast/ovaries/uterus or not. So that no young man has to bank his sperm ASAP, because the treatment will render him sterile. So that 20something women aren't in premature menopause due to their chemo. I study cancer because I'm fascinated at how many diseases that ARE cancer manage to elude scientists and mutate so that they are unstoppable. Because every year, at the Race for the Cure, I see kids with signs in memory of their mothers, and this is unacceptable. I study cancer to temper my own feelings of helplessness and uselessness. To try and be useful to others. To answer the unending questions about an unending disease. I study it because of its intricacies, its beautiful but deadly chaos, and its unrelenting siege on the body. I study it so that I can be a better patient, and a healthier woman. So that my loved ones have accurate information. So that I can be a participating member of my treatment team. So that I have more control in an uncontrollable situation. I study it in the hopes that one day, I won't have to.
Jamie Herndon is an MPH Candidate, Maternal-Child Health at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. You can follow her blog Tales from the Upper East Side at:
http://cancerinnyc.blogspot.com/
Most recently, it's my grandmother's brain tumor and a mentor's breast cancer. I study cancer in the hopes that in the future, kids will never have to experience it first-hand. I study it so that "slash, burn, poison" becomes a thing of the past. I study it because I hate that chemo drugs are so toxic to a person's body that they can cause heart damage and leukemia, among other things. Because no new chemotherapeutic drugs have been made specially for children in decades, because it's not "profitable." Because 1 in 8 women is 1 too many to have breast cancer. Because the feelings of fear and helplessness that can accompany a cancer experience are things too horrible to describe. Because I've donated platelets and had to hold back the tears when I was thanked. Because remission is NOT good enough, we need cures. Because the cumulative budget of the NCI for the past 3 decades is equal to what we spend in Iraq in 9 months. Because there is controversy over the vaccine for HPV, which can help prevent cervical cancer. Because I pray every night that she stays in remission and my heart stopped when she told me she had a scare last month. Because too many people lack support during and after their ordeal. I read about cancer because right now, there is no good screening test for ovarian cancer. Because young adults are the only demographic group in which there has not been a decrease in the incidence of cancer diagnoses and deaths. Because there's a stigma still with so many cancers.
I study cancer in the hopes that one day, Memorial Sloan-Kettering and M.D. Anderson will no longer be needed. So that no woman has to make the decision about whether to keep her breast/ovaries/uterus or not. So that no young man has to bank his sperm ASAP, because the treatment will render him sterile. So that 20something women aren't in premature menopause due to their chemo. I study cancer because I'm fascinated at how many diseases that ARE cancer manage to elude scientists and mutate so that they are unstoppable. Because every year, at the Race for the Cure, I see kids with signs in memory of their mothers, and this is unacceptable. I study cancer to temper my own feelings of helplessness and uselessness. To try and be useful to others. To answer the unending questions about an unending disease. I study it because of its intricacies, its beautiful but deadly chaos, and its unrelenting siege on the body. I study it so that I can be a better patient, and a healthier woman. So that my loved ones have accurate information. So that I can be a participating member of my treatment team. So that I have more control in an uncontrollable situation. I study it in the hopes that one day, I won't have to.
Jamie Herndon is an MPH Candidate, Maternal-Child Health at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. You can follow her blog Tales from the Upper East Side at:
http://cancerinnyc.blogspot.com/
