A few months ago, one of Gary’s aunts was diagnosed at the Mayo Clinic with a peculiar ailment: small-cell lung cancer. Evidently this form of cancer mimics neurological ailments: deafness, muscle weakness, trembling, and so on. Gary’s aunt went through numerous doctors for years before she went to the Mayo Clinic. They gave her months to live: a few monre with chemo and radiation.
Then, she went to the Utopia MediSpa and Wellness Institute in Clearwater Florida, Purveyors of Holistic Bullshit. The diagnosed her with “a virus in her immune system,” and they recommended hypobaric chamber treatments and lymph node massages.
Gary was maddened by this and stomped about and called them charlatans. That’s probably why when his aunt called today with good news from Clearwater, he didn’t come in and Wilma took the phone off speaker.
However, she was so enthusiastic about her diagnosis and her weight gain and all the encouragement she’s been getting from the staff that Wilma put her back on the speaker phone. Soon I had to leave the room. Otherwise I would have demanded, “Who says they have a 90% cure rate? Oh, the staff at Utopia.” “Who says you can still smoke when you have ‘an immune system virus?’ Oh, those nice nurses at Utopia?” “Who says you’re gaining weight? Oh, the scales at Utopia.”
I swear, I would be less crazed were there a brochure for the families of the terminal patients that said, “Utopia, deluding your loved ones until they die happy.” Fine by me.
I know myself that having a good attitude can increase your health. I see why she thinks having chemotherapy will decrease your health. I see her point of view, and it isn’t even any of my business. I know how my family treats end-of-life scenarios. “Three months to live? Off me now already.” (That was a dramatization.)
I stayed away until the “Praise Jesus” sounds died down and they were off the phone.
Not my family, not my way, not my business. Grr.
7 responses to “Utopia”
I have known a couple of people who had impossible cancer diagnosed who were cured by prayer. Well that’s what I was told did it anyway. But that darned Jesus is so capricious with his miracles. Cured my high school biology teacher of his pancreatic cancer but let his wife die later of some kind of cancer.
In any case she is going to die so let her have her hope while she can.
Yes, especially since then she gets the double whammy disappointment of dying anyway and no compensatory afterlife.
If I had to choose between poisonous chemicals being pumped into my veins (with stage IV cancer, no less) or having a hot stone massage, meditation, and walking around in comfy clothes in a beautiful place, I have to say I would take the latter.
My mother, perversely, chose the opposite. Along with radiation. It just made her die twice as fast as the doctor predicted.
I have a book for you: http://barbaraehrenreich.com/brightsided.htm
Yes, Barbara is right. She is still alive after breast cancer, because she got the treatment she needed. I have a friend who survived state 3 colon cancer. The treatment was not pretty (projectile diarrhea, anyone?) but he sure is glad to be alive now, golfing, vacationing in Mexico, seeing his grandchildren grow up…of course he is Canadian, so he got the best of treatment for free and still can afford to live well in his old age.
But we wouldn’t want that for ourselves, would we. That would be socialism.
Better soothing music and the cyanide pie.
I don’t know anyone that’s actually recovered, with or without treatment. I’m just going to go take that sudden realization into the corner with me with this blanket and teddy bear to hug.
I’m not coming out.
Zayrina – I believe far more in the power of prayer than the power of hypobaric chambers.
Big Dot – Pascal’s Wager right back at you!
Becs – I think the thing is they are lying to her. I’d be fine if they said, well, while you’re dying, let’s make you feel really good. Instead, they say “Pah! You aren’t dying. If you give us ten grand we can fix you.” (I don’t know how much it is.)
Wyo – Oh! I almost bought that book. She was on the Daly Show or NPR or something promoting it.
Hattie – The cyanide pie with the Sauce of Denial.
Tami – Oh, I know my Dad- he got four types of cancer. He recovered three times.