In Meredith the mice had been making nocturnal raids again. I placed a butterfly on my desk (found lying by the roadside) and in the morning the wings were scattered about and mouse turds had been exchanged for the carcass of the insect. Cheeky little beggars. Here in Marfa, it is cockroaches that really want to come inside.
No matter how much effort goes into eradicating these unwelcome pests, they persist. I can’t help but think how similar the situation is to one of cancerous cells, albeit with a very important difference. The mice (and even the roaches) are not intent on destruction; they simply want what we have (food, shelter, a comfortable life), and help themselves.
I had rather a Eureka moment the other day as I was pondering the nature of disease and its relationship to host. Just as the mice are opportunistic invaders, so are parasites, bacterial infections, viruses and cancer. Each hijacks another’s resources for its own advancement. However, unlike those other pests and pathologies, the fate of an individual cancer is inextricably tied to that of the organism it inhabits. There is no infectious component to the cancer itself (although the onset of some cancers have been demonstrated to correspond to a virus) and therefore no opportunity to transfer to another host. It could be argued that however injurious their presence may be to the body they inhabit; infections, viruses and parasites, like mice and cockroaches, have their own survival as an ultimate goal. Their invasion is really not personal.
Cancer is rather like a suicide bomber though. As each cancer arises within the DNA of an individual organism, it is precisely coded for that organism and that organism only. When the host dies, so does the cancer. Were we to assign a motive to cancer’s reign of terror, it would be total nihilism.
That’s really kind of spooky and certainly not very sympathetic; also frankly impossible not to take personally.
And now I’m going to expand my metaphor. Imagine that your body is a house and the cancer is a cockroach. As I’ve alluded to in an earlier post, sometimes we are cohabiting with mice (or other vermin) and they are so deep within the walls of our residence that we never know they are there. As long as they do no damage, we may remain unaware of their presence for a long, long time.
Should we happen to find a single roach, it will undoubtedly make us uncomfortable and we may take some initial steps toward eviction. However, once it becomes clear that there is a full scale invasion at hand, war will be declared.
There are several possible strategies. Ideally we would figure out how the invaders are gaining admittance to our residence, and block those portals. Much, much smaller than us, they are able to gain access through the tiniest of gaps. It is virtually impossible to identify and close them all. We could also attempt to cut off their food source, but even a high degree of fastidiousness may not be enough. Our house in Marfa, built almost one hundred years ago, had several rooms with the original wallpaper. It had been pasted to the wall using an animal skin glue, and the cockroaches were dining on the ancient adhesive (now that was a nasty job, pulling down that paper).
Roaches multiply at an astoundingly high rate. I had a chat once with an exterminator, and he said that for every roach you see, there are perhaps another hundred hidden in the walls.
The parallels with cancer are fairly obvious: the most effective solutions are rarely elegant and generally involve harmful chemicals with potentially dangerous side effects. They may not work, and even if they do succeed in eradicating the pest, there is a high probability that it will return. Sound familiar?
life and breath: outliving lung cancer 
Fascinating metaphor, Linnea. I have actually thought of this cockroach metaphor a couple times so you can imagine how exciting it was to read your blog post. Very well written!
Diane, uncommon number of similarities between the two afflictions, no? Although cockroaches, despite the big yuck factor, have more of my sympathy than cancer. Hope you’re doing well. Linnea
Hi Linnae
I have often referred to my own cancer as my personal terrorist, so I too, can relate to your metaphor. I also remember an interesting conversation years ago. Because cockroaches have been around for millions of years and are considered to be the most successful creatures on earth, some thought they may hold some secret to understanding cancer and it’s treatment. Bizarre but thought-provoking!
Heading for my first scan since starting 1066 today!
All the best
Sharon
Sharon, I’m hoping for good news on your scan. And as for cockroaches, they are rather the ultimate role model as survivalists. That thought actually goes through my mind sometimes: I hope I’ve got a few cockroachian qualities myself. Take good care, Linnea
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
When we get cancer I hope is an opportunity to find meanings, make plans, set priorities, start a blog, share with new friends, run for a cure, burn your candle at both ends and relax, nobody gets away alive.
http://www.livestrong.org/Get-Help/Learn-About-Cancer/Cancer-Support-Topics/Emotional-Effects-of-Cancer
Dear Linnea: thinking of you on vacation in a desert reminds me of visiting San Diego 20 years ago. It rained in the desert, first time in many years, we drove next morning and it was a miracle, a painted desert with all the cactus in bloom. Catch the moment!
When life gives you cockroaches wise people make a succulent meal or a mexican song:
Try with Texas bird roaches, 1″ to 2″ wings, tender, juicy inside and crispy outside: Simmer cockroaches in vinegar. Then boil with butter, farina flour, pepper and salt to make a paste. Spread on buttered bread.
Papillon played by Steve McQueen survived solitary cell on Devil Island
http://www.tcm.com/mediaroom/index.jsp?cid=74430 movie trailer
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_27Hi1In6o&feature=related La cucaracha
“Since all cockroaches are immune to radioactivity, they cannot undergo chemotherapy and, with their accelerated heart rate, the blood pumps to the tumor much quicker, and makes it grow out of control. Once a cockroach is diagnosed with cancer, it has approximately 2 hours to live and flips onto its back to pray.”
Please: Don’t throw your cigarette butts on the floor, cockroaches are getting cancer.
Guillermo, do you really think cockroaches get cancer? I do remember hearing that they could survive an atomic blast…amazing. And thank you for the recipe, have you tried it yourself? Linnea
Linnea:
Do you really believe that cancer is nihilist? Yes … No … Maybe .x.
Do you believe that cancer dies? Yes … No … Immortal .x.
With 7 billion humans in the planet, is cancer good for population control? Yes … No …
Would you declare war on cockroaches when they need food and shelter? Yes … No .x.
(you never win they survived for 300 million years, oncologist can not profit on them with cancer diagnosis and chemotherapy)
Do cockroaches flip to pray for a cure? Yes … No … Only the believers .x.
I did no try the recipe yet, local roaches are too small, need the Texan flyers,fat and creamy inside, remove the wings before cooking.
The parallel with cancer and treatment is very familiar. I feel like a guinea pig put on many chemotherapies not tailored for me. Am I a mutant? Evolution faulty?
Now try the Guinea pig recipes, they are very popular in Peru, you can use rabbit or squirrels.
Did Jesus eat Guinnea pig in the last supper? Yes … N .x.
http://www.shelfordfeast.co.uk/guineapig.html
Guillermo, I could supply you with more Texas flyers than you could shake a stick at…maybe a scorpion or two for culinary variety. Linnea