The double pain of memory
Steve Jobs died a year ago Saturday of pancreatic NET cancer. I remember that night better than I should. I was watching television in a vain effort to escape my memories of the previous fall. Then Jane and I had been preparing for what would prove our last recreational trip together. The swelling in her legs had progressed to the point she had stopped going to the basement. She still insisted on cooking but all the other household chores were increasingly falling to me.
…$79,000. That is good for barely a month…
There is something truly awful about watching someone so active become increasingly unable to do the things she loves.
We had heard in 2010 that Jobs was sick. We knew, shortly after Jane’s diagnosis, that Jobs likely had a version of what she had. But, to be honest, we paid it little attention. Jane’s own struggle devoured us both. We had little energy for the trouble of others. I worked with my students during the day but short-changed them at night. Papers took a back seat to Jane’s health. Steve Jobs was not our concern even remotely.
NET cancer before Jobs’ death
Jane had been gone almost 10 months the night Jobs died. CBS interrupted its program to make the announcement. Jane’s death passed nearly unnoticed outside of our small circle of friends and students–and her doctors, nurses and technicians. At least in Jane’s case everyone was told accurately what she died from. That was not the case with Steve Jobs.
I know–I sound like a vulture.
In the time since Jane’s death I had worked to raise awareness about NET cancer. I had looked into NET cancer’s finances and discovered they were worse than the general level of awareness. There had been no funding from the federal government for 40 years before 2008–and the amount after 2008 was a pittance compared to all but the least known forms of cancer. NET cancer foundations had scraped together barely $2 million in 2010–and 2011 was not looking much better.
NET cancer’s vulture
I knew Jobs would die from NET cancer eventually–there really is no cure for the disease no matter how wealthy you are and no matter how many strings you can see that you can pull, unless it is caught early. Jobs’ liver transplant told me it had not been. His death had the potential to put NET cancer on the national–and international–radar.
…2011 was not looking much better.
CBS–and the rest of the media–killed that. They reported Jobs had died of pancreatic cancer–so the profile of pancreatic cancer was what was enhanced.
I know–I sound like a vulture. And I don’t like admitting that tendency even to myself. But there it is.
NET cancer meets iCancer
Today, I discovered a new group trying to raise money for the oncolytic NET cancer virus I have written about here previously. The group, iCancer, is raising money in memory of Jobs to try to help come up with he scratch for the Phase I trial. So far, the combined groups have raised about $79,000. That is good for barely a month–but $3.2 million is still a long way off. I can’t vouch for the iCancer group, but the Oncolytic Virus Fund I’ve heard good things about from other foundations.
Jane’s struggle devoured us both.
The one thing I know after almost 26 months of having a name for the disease that killed my wife is that finding a cure for NET cancer will be anything but easy. We can use all the help we can get.
