Clear Margins

Cancer care aesthetics for cool weirdos

15 February 2022

At the end of December 2021 I was diagnosed with early stage cervical cancer. It wasn’t a huge surprise, I’d had a procedure earlier in the month then got called in to discuss results / get a blood test – over the festive period when the clinics are normally closed – the clues were there...

My appointment was with the registrar I’d seen before, but who wouldn’t be treating me after this point – on diagnosis you get passed onto specialist teams including an MDT (Multi-Disciplinary Team) who discuss your case and make recommendations, a gold standard in cancer care that we’re fortunate enough to receive by default on the NHS where I live in Scotland.

I’ve been in the room when relatives got the news and went through cancer treatment, but this was the first time I’d been the one in the hot seat. As with all such consultations, there was also a specialist nurse in the room – bringing much appreciated perspective and support.

"An emotional transaction" (*)

The doctor let me drive the conversation, answering my questions and tailoring the dialogue to my preferred level of information. I had read about this approach in the incredible book, The Emperor Of All Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee and felt grateful to be benefiting from such a skillset.

During the appointment the nurse handed me some brochures, including one on understanding cervical cancer from MacMillan, a charity who support patients and publish some of the best info on the web.

Please enjoy the hilarious inclusion of live laugh love in the lassie’s decor – in the wrong order like it’s been bought in bulk from an outlet store on an industrial estate.

Smart-arsed commentary aside, this did get me thinking about illness and the self. Many advances in treating diseases like cancer in recent years involve customising therapies to the individual patient, much like my diagnosis appointment. But the experience of having any illness can be, well, depersonalising.

Take cervical cancer – the primary side effect of treatment is infertility. I’ve never wanted kids so that’s not an issue for me, but there is support throughout the process for people who want to preserve it or are traumatised by losing it. While it’s great that today’s treatment planning genuinely takes patient wishes and experiences into account (this was not always the way), for people like me there’s kind of an othering effect in this case.

Not to mention, not everyone with cervical cancer is a woman – I can’t imagine how overwhelming the assumptions and expectations must be for trans and non-binary patients.

Who are you

In the weeks since my diagnosis I’ve had other appointments, including an MRI scan to check for any signs of spread. I’d never had an MRI before and of course the high stakes nature of this one added to the discomfort. Knowing I’d get the option to play a cd, I spent the week going back and forth over options, my first instinct being Windowlicker by Aphex Twin (came to the conclusion it might compound the machine noises). I ended up settling on the second Avalanches album Wildflower – lying in the metal tube hearing Frankie Sinatra transformed mild panic into laughter.

Which brings me back to the self. When you’re getting tested or treated for something that could potentially shorten your life, you’re immersed in disorienting situations that can erode your sense of self. Anything that reminds you who you are is a life saver. What is personal and familiar can make us feel tethered to something solid.

And so to live love laugh [sic, or sick idk] – I’d like a cancer care aesthetic for cool weirdos thx.

Like my swimming hero, educator Terry Laughlin, one of my goals in life is to be a good learner. I believe this can help you to have a positive impact on the world around you. My prognosis based on what we know right now is good, but I want to make the most of the time I have, whether that’s weeks, months, years, or decades. That means accepting your own vulnerability – and so illness is really one of the best learning opportunities we get.

In the spirit of being a learner, I'll try to post more reflections as my treatment progresses.