How far would you go to fight it? How high would the odds against you have to be to say, “Screw it, I’ll prepare to die”?
I’m not so much afraid of dying as I am of being sick, so I’d have to say that if the doctor told me I have more than a 50% chance of dying even with aggressive treatment, I’d just ask for some good pain meds, make a comfy bed, and have long conversations with loved ones until it was time to go.
I don’t think I’d be able to handle the effects of very extensive surgeries, chemo, radiation, other medications, etc., to a great extent. I’m strong emotionally, but physically I’m extremely sensitive, and I’d expect to go through hell, so I’d have to be sure of a relatively good chance of surviving to make it worth it. Of course, you never really know until you’ve faced the reality of it- maybe if it actually happened I’d make a different choice.
What would your chance of survival have to be in order to choose aggressive treatment?
My dad died 7 months after being diagnosed with an aggressive type of brain cancer. He had had symptoms for months before he was diagnosed. Once the cancer was spotted, he was operated on. We were told that without the surgery he would have died within weeks, if not days. To this day, I’m not sure it was a good thing he survived the surgery. The months that he lived after surgery were compromised by his inability to communicate, constant headaches and pain caused by by-products of the medicines they gave him for the other stuff. And what my mom went through, with the man he she had loved for more than 45 years, was too cruel to be believed. Point—I will, if I can, end my life on my own terms rather than put my loved ones through that pain.
I took care of my younger after he was diagnosed with a very rare, very agressive form of cancer. I watched him go through surgeries, chemo, and radiation.
Made my decision right then and there that if I were the one who was sick, I wouldn’t go through it.
I suppose you don’t really know for sure until you are in the situation. But if you ask me right here and now, I would agree with what wonder9 said.
Since I currently have no health insurance, I would want a very high chance of success before I would ask my husband to risk everything he owns (including our home) on treatment. If I didn’t have better than a 75% chance of beating it, I would just head for hospice and spend lots of time with my friends and cats.
I had a squamous cell tumor removed from my arm about a dozen years back and a malignant tumor from my bladder about 4 years ago. Three years ago I was diagnosed w/ prostate cancer. I have chosen the option of a hormone based therapy to inhibit the growth and it has, so far, been successful. This is the same treatment that was the subject of network news coverage a few weeks back. I’ve been using it for almost 3 years. My decision was based on quality of life issues, after hearing the doctors recommendation and doing some independent reading of my own.
The urologist recommended surgery and, while I believe him to be very competent, I don’t think he really empathizes w/ the possible side effects. He is also not trying to sway my decision. Everythig is good, for now.
Having worked with many people with fatal and potentially fatal illnesses, I’ve had the attitude that I would only fight a battle I could win.
Two weeks ago I had a breast cancer scare. I changed my mind. Luckily, we’re almost sure it’s not cancer, I’ll know for sure in a week.
I realized, I’m not ready to die. I still don’t believe that life at any price is reasonable, but I’m willing to go a bit further than I once thought.
As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve had 2 melanomas removed. Both times they “got it all”, but I know that melanoma patients have a risk of having it showing up later.
So, when my company offered an early retirement package back in 2001, I took it. I had 4 years of complete freedom. I traveled around the world and pretty much did what ever the hell I wanted to. Exactly the kind of things people think about doing when they learn they have cancer: One* last trip*…
It wasn’t enough money to “really” retire, so I’m back at work now. It’s a good job, and I’m quite happy there. But now–after those 4 years of blissful freedom–I’m good to go. I am content. I wouldn’t go through any extraordinary measures to prolong life if it meant years of pain and/or severely diminished physical or mental capacity.
Well, I don’t think I have cancer. Anyway I have a lot of troble with skin cancers etc- the benefits of Anglo Saxon heritage in a hot country. At the melanoma centre during the week I had my bottom lip frozen with liquid notrogen. Not because there was a melanoma, but because of the risk of a melanoma. It was, and still is painful.
So how far would you go? Whatever it takes I guess. And I think there are far worse things in this world than dying.
This is sorta where I am, if I’m interpreting you correctly. I’m content with what I’ve made of my life (although I never did learn to play the piano). My children are grown and doing okay. Hubby would survive. I’m more afraid of pain and disability and being a burden than I am of dying.
So the prognosis would have to be at least 70/30 in my favor for a good outcome, and “good” means more than just breathing.
I’d fight like hell, as long as I still had control of my own mind and was still myself. I like being alive. I’m fairly sure I’d put up with surgeries and pain if it meant more time with the people I love, because once I’m dead, I won’t get to enjoy their company.
Should either of us get the big C then we give to the unfortunate one a large bottle of good cognac and a bottle of sleeping pills.
Both of us figure that we would prefer to shuffle off this mortal coil with dignity and would not like bits being hacked off us just to prolong our lives for a few more months.
It’s easy to say this now, how we would feel should either of us fall sick is another matter.
Isn’t this a classic irony of life? When we’re young we subscribe to the “Live fast, love hard, die young and leave a beautiful memory…” attutude.
What would happen if we had to rely on those over fifty to fight our wars?
Quality of life is more important than we want to admit when considering politically charged questions, but when it comes to making a decision about our own pain and suffering, it gains a whole new perspective.
Having watched my mother and my brother-in-law pass after battling cancer, I have thought more than once that I’d probably make an attempt at alternative medicine, but absolutely not with traditional western medicine. In my opinion, the treatment was worse than the disease.
Age is certainly a factor in one’s view on this. But more than that, I think emotional health is a factor. I’m a relatively well-adjusted person. I have a terrific husband, kids I adore, a job at which I’m happy, and quality friends. But I don’t fear death, and I’m not sure I’d fight it.
My willingness to fight meter sits around 90% for a full recovery. Less than that just isn’t good enough. If faced with cancer, I’ll buy some nice stationery and an overpriced pen, for all the letters I’d want handed out at my funeral.
I’m 25. I think if I had less than a 40% chance of full recovery I would give alternative medicine a shot, but no chemo or anything horrible like that. I would probably travel to exotic locations for the alternative medicine treatments; kill two birds with one stone and all that.
