I Like Science
‘Miracle cures’ and anecdotal claims are not science, nor should they be treated as such.
As someone with advanced cancer, I get recommendations from time to time from well-meaning people about a doctor in Mexico who is offering some miraculous treatment that has cured the cancer of a friend or a relative, or a clinic in Switzerland that offers a special treatment that no place else in the world has that has had incredible success treating cancer, or an amazing diet that kills cancer, or…
Well, the list goes on and on. And I certainly don’t begrudge anyone seeking out some miracle cure, if that’s what someone wants to do. I understand the desperation some folks feel. I understand the distrust of the medical establishment or of big pharma. I am, by nature, a skeptic, so I get it. And, yes, there are non-medical therapies that may help alleviate pain or side effects associated with chemotherapy, radiation or other treatments.
Invariably, the believers in these miracle cancer cures or alternative doctors tell me the reason these doctors and their treatments haven’t received more recognition is because the profits of big pharma or big med are threatened, and the deep pocket interests make sure these quiet geniuses get no attention or validation.
There is plenty not to like about big pharma, and that’s a subject for another post. But the belief that these amazing cancer-curing treatments are somehow being suppressed by powerful special interests flows directly from the same conspiratorial mindset that has led to massive measles outbreaks, and, in our current climate, claims of a miracle cure for COVID-19 from people who know nothing about science or medicine — people who don’t know the difference between anecdotal evidence and actual science.
(Question for another post: Will anti-vaccine folks not take the vaccine for COVID-19 when it becomes available? Please continue reading…)
I like science. To me, the peddlers of these miracle cancer cures are quacks, the lowest forms of snake oil salesmen, who are only too happy to separate the most desperate of people from their money. Big money. Because many of these alternative miracle treatments, especially those for cancer, are hugely expensive.
I am fortunate to be with some of the best prostate cancer doctors and researchers in the world. That doesn’t mean I reject second opinions. (In fact, when my cancer returned in November, I sought a second opinion from another recognized expert on prostate cancer who also happens to be in Chicago.)
My doctors are not corrupt pawns of big pharma or big anything else. And not only are they brilliant, they’re wonderful people, as well. Their motives aren’t suspect, unless being driven to help their patients live longer, more satisfying lives provides reason for suspicion.
I know what the outcomes are for someone in my situation. I am aware of treatment options and what my prognosis is, both short-term and long-term. I’m realistic. I like frank discussions with my doctors, and there is still so much unknown about my disease.
But I like science. I trust science. I believe in science. So I will not be traveling to Mexico or Switzerland or some secret location in the desert to get a miracle cure.
When I went for my very first round of radiation — 38 treatments, five days a week for seven-and-a-half weeks in the scorchingly-hot summer of 2012 — I rode my bike to and from every treatment. That was 42 miles, round trip, from Evanston to University of Chicago Medicine in Hyde Park and back, more than 1,600 miles, total.
A few folks said to me, “You’re going to ride that cancer into the ground!” Of course, the only problem with that thought is that I had been riding roughly 7,000 miles a year for the decade leading up to my cancer. If cycling could cure cancer, how the hell did I get it in the first place?
There are no magic bullets. There is research and hard work. That’s how cures are found. And on the way to the cures are the treatments that prolong lives and have prolonged my life. I’m grateful for that. The goal is always to keep pushing out the end. Because, just maybe, they’ll find something that stops this insidious disease.
For now, I’m going for a ride. It won’t cure my cancer any more than miracle treatments in Mexico or Switzerland. But while I’m out riding, the experts will be working hard on finding solutions. Experts who know what they’re doing.
I like expertise. I like science. I like riding my bike. See ya’ soon.
