In the big picture, my cancer experience - as harrowing and as close to death as it gets - dwarfs in comparison to the metastatic spread of gun violence in the United States.
PUBLISHED February 20, 2018
Carolyn Choate recently retired from the TV production industry to write full-time. Diagnosed at 45 with stage 3 estrogen receptor-positive breast cancer in 2003, she underwent two radical mastectomies without reconstruction. Carolyn credits Angela Brodie, Ph.D., and her discovery of the aromatase inhibitor, for saving her life and those of millions of women globally. In the summer of 2017, Carolyn and her older daughter kayaked from New Hampshire to Baltimore in tribute to Dr. Brodie. When not informing others about Dr. Brodie and the “living flat” movement, Carolyn enjoys gardening, cooking and RVing with her family and dog.
As I have frequently done in the past, I recently lobbed one of those cancer-centric lines, "Well, at least you don't have cancer," at my older daughter who was complaining about all the injustices in life and bemoaning her 400th job interview since September. Whether I thought, in some twisted way, it lightened the mood, or, in some twisted way, it lightened her load, I am just now understanding that what I've really been saying all along is: "You think you got troubles? I had cancer and there's nothing worse than that, so just stop your belly aching."
But after what happened last week in Parkland, Florida, I stand corrected. Getting cancer is not the worst thing that can happen.
I know what you're thinking. "Lady, there's been a lot of mass shootings since the Grim Reaper tried to sell you a burial plot so, why now?" Truth is, I'm that frog that hopped into a pot of sulfuric acid, only after slowly boiling in water for way too long. The stench of my arrogance frying finally brought me to my senses.
The tumor I saw on a Feb. 14 TV news bulletin, not a PET scan, was the clarion moment that made me see the impertinence of my ways. In the big picture, my cancer experience - as harrowing and as close to death as it gets - dwarfs in comparison to the metastatic spread of gun violence in the United States.
Getting cancer is not the worst thing that can happen
But after what happened last week in Parkland, Florida, I stand corrected. Getting cancer is not the worst thing that can happen.
I know what you're thinking. "Lady, there's been a lot of mass shootings since the Grim Reaper tried to sell you a burial plot so, why now?" Truth is, I'm that frog that hopped into a pot of sulfuric acid, only after slowly boiling in water for way too long. The stench of my arrogance frying finally brought me to my senses.
The tumor I saw on a Feb. 14 TV news bulletin, not a PET scan, was the clarion moment that made me see the impertinence of my ways. In the big picture, my cancer experience - as harrowing and as close to death as it gets - dwarfs in comparison to the metastatic spread of gun violence in the United States.
Getting cancer is not the worst thing that can happen
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