Simple truths at the beginning
Regular readers of this blog, regular users of this site, will have noticed I have written nothing, changed and updated nothing, here since March 10. I have faced some bitter and simple truths in the intervening time that have caused me to rethink what I am doing here and elsewhere.
These are all simple truths.
When I began doing this in the fall of 2011, the landscape of NET cancer was very different than it is now. There were few patients sharing their experiences. Those who were, shared them on their personal blogs. The major foundations were supplying what little scientific information was coming out but did little–it seemed to me–to tell patient stories.
Simple truths of what was
Much of the writing on the science was not very lay-person friendly, either. The language was dense “doctorese” and often difficult to follow.
I have faced some bitter and simple truths…
There were no lay-caregiver stories. Husbands and wives of NET cancer patients were too busy taking care of their loved-ones to be writing about what they were experiencing. And if that loved-one died, writing about what the experience of care-giving was like took the writer back into an experience that was emotionally very difficult in a time when children and parents also demanded care-giving attention.
Simple truths of support
Then, in very short order, two of the best, and most widely read, patient writers died. I tried to fill that gap as best I could by telling Jane’s story in–at times–excruciating detail.
There were no lay-caregiver stories.
Finally, there was the problem of emotional support for patients. While there were several regional groups holding face-to-face meetings, large numbers of patients really were on their own. It seemed to me one solution to that was an online place patients could talk with each other about what they were experiencing–and where caregivers could do likewise.
Learning new simple truths
I set out to try to offer solutions to each of these problems on this website, while equally working to try to solve the funding problem for NET cancer research–a problem that very much remains, despite good news on several fronts over the last year.
I tried to fill that gap…
My effort to create an online support group crashed and burned almost immediately. We collected infinitely more spam than patients. Privacy was a major concern I had no way to address. Fortunately, others had similar ideas and created private Facebook groups that do a better job than I could have even if everything on this site had worked perfectly.
More difficult simple truths
My patient and caregiver experience threads were based on what Jane and I had experienced over the course of our life together. Over the last nearly five years, I’ve recounted as much of what she experienced as a patient as well as I could. But I have never been a patient and I worried constantly about whether what I was relating was true–or merely my version of the truth. Many patients have said my words have the ring of truth to them over the years, but as treatments evolve, experiences have begun to change.
We collected infinitely more spam than patients.
In addition, we now have a new group of patient writers who articulate their experience far better than I can. They reach a broader audience today, as well–one of them has attracted more readers in the last 18 months than this website has attracted in almost five years.
Missing simple truths
Other websites regularly chronicle the stories of other patients. The patient story is being told more and more broadly and frequently in the mainstream media, as well. That piece of the NET cancer story is being far better told than it was when I started this–though there is still a distance to go.
…experiences have begun to change.
The caregiver story, though, still needs greater attention than it gets. I’ve told my story in many different venues but, like Jane’s story, I’m not sure how valid parts of it are anymore because it lies in an increasingly foggy past. While pieces of my experience remain vivid–down to the exact words and facial expressions–I worry how much of the story I’ve romanticized at this point in my own mind.
Changing simple truths
While the science has changed the patient experience, I’m not sure what the caregiver goes through emotionally has changed very much. One of our closest friends has been diagnosed recently with a life-threatening disease–not NET cancer–and I find our small circle of close friends experiencing many of the same issues I did during Jane’s last days as we try to help him deal with what he is facing–and what we are facing. It has certainly brought back many of the emotions I felt in the wake of Jane’s diagnosis–and reopened many of the wounds I wanted to think were well on their way to healing.
…I worry how much of the story I’ve romanticized…
Still, I am not sure how much more I have to bring to narrating the caregiver experience. Does another piece of writing recounting the day Jane was diagnosed really help anyone better understand what that is like than the other four pieces I’ve already written on it? Will reliving the last day of her life and committing those thoughts to paper, again, be of use to anyone?
Simple truths of healing
I don’t know. What I do know is how hard it is to heal when one is constantly exploring and probing that wound in search of understanding for myself and others. And yet, I also know caregivers need to know they are not entirely alone in what they are feeling and thinking. A fifteen minute conversation with another caregiver made a huge difference in helping me deal with some of what I was going through that I could not talk about with anyone else when Jane was in the hospital.
…science has changed the patient experience…
As a community, we still do a less than great job popularizing the science side of things. We need more and better science writers who can take the complex issues of NET cancer research and put them into laymen’s terms. It is a difficult, but very necessary job–and one I will try to continue to attempt both here and elsewhere.
Unchanged and changed simple truths
The flip side of that is there is still not enough science going on. Last week, I was at the NET-RF conference in Boston. One of the speakers pointed out that nearly every NET cancer researcher in the US–and a substantial number of European researchers–was in the room. It was not a very big crowd.
…caregivers need to know they are not entirely alone…
The good news was not all of them had hair as gray as mine. There are a number of good young researchers taking on this cancer–as well as the household names we all know and love. I am marginally less concerned than I once was about who was going to take over as the prime movers in the field aged and retired.
Difficult simple truths
And then there is the money and resources problem. Despite the influx of nearly $8 million of new money for research this year, the amount of money available still does not amount to a rounding error on the $660 million the US government alone spends on breast cancer research. Assuming we raise roughly what we raised nationally last year in addition to the new money, we will have about $15 million to work with. But for all that seems a princely sum after years of poverty and neglect, we are far from having enough to do all we need to do.
It was not a very big crowd.
The number of NET cancer centers remains too small, as well. We are now diagnosing about 16,000 new NET cancer patients a year in the US. Researchers now believe there at least 200,000 undiagnosed patients living in this country–to go along with the 110-120,000 diagnosed patients.
Simple truths for the future
Too many of those patients do not have easy access to NET cancer specialists–and that problem is likely to continue to grow. The need for Walking with Jane, then, still exists, though perhaps not in precisely its current form.
…we are far from having enough…
These are all simple truths. But there are other simple truths that shape my reality. Some have to do with NET cancer. Others have to do with the other pieces of my life. Each of those simple truths have an influence on what happens here next.
I’ll look at those simple truths and their impact in my next post–a post I hope to write sooner than two months from now.
Thank you so much for all you do!! Although I didn’t know Jane, you are truly a love story. I am so sorry for the pain you feel. I pray that you find the strength you need. Sincerely Ellen
Thank you.
Harry, you were and always will remain a pioneer of NETs blogging. It seems from your words that you feel your WWJ blog is not allowing you to heals the deep wounds from Jane’s death. Whether you write once a week or once a year, the frequency is not important….the importance relates to what and how you write. Yours is the only blog from the caregivers perspective and it is a valuable resource for those in your situation. I hope you continue to heal but take time for you, the blog will always be here for those new caregivers ❤️🇨🇦
I do not intend to stop writing here. But I am thinking there will be some substantial changes in the coming weeks and months. In some areas, others are doing things better than I can–and I am happy to let them take those parts of the field so I can focus on some other parts of the puzzle. I knew from the start I couldn’t do everything by myself. Now I need people to really help out where they can. I’ll talk about that in the coming days.
–Harry
Hey Harry, please be aware that you were one of my first contacts and also one of the core inspirations in doing what I do now. Thanks for that. I hope you continue WWJ in some form. Cheryl is right about frequency although I do worry about that myself. I was interested in the 200k undiagnosed statement and wondered if that was documented or anecdotal from the Boston conference?
Thank you. As I said to Cheryl, changes here will be more focus than anything else. I need to figure out how I fit into the current landscape.
What you are doing specifically is part of the reason I can step back and refocus. You tell the patient story beautifully and understand the science well enough to make it clear to a lay audience.
I’ve been talking with doctors and researchers for years to try to get them to consider the scope of the undiagnosed patient issue. We know the number is substantial because of the rapid growth in diagnoses since new scanning technologies started coming online in 2011 and from an unpublished–and unpublishable–study of local idiopathic right-side valve disease deaths that seemed to indicate more than half of those deaths may have had a NET connection. Of course we can’t dig up those bodies to find out for sure.
The 200,000 number is what we are using for the 3-in-3 campaign we launched at Dana-Farber back in December. It is the best thinking of Matt Kulke and Jennifer Chan on the subject–and what they feel comfortable saying for the record at this point. I think all the researchers in the field are convinced the number of cases we are missing is substantial, but very few are comfortable trying to put a hard number to it. I think, personally, 200,000 is too conservative–but any number for undiagnosed cases is best-guess-speculation. What we do know is we have seen a 50-60 percent increase in diagnoses in the US since 2010, which we certainly hope is based on better awareness and better scanning. If it’s because of other factors, I shudder to think what is going on.
Harry,
I’m sorry you are going through so many changes and “dark nights of the soul.” All I can say is that I’m glad you surfaced as I was worried about you. Your work is important and you are important. I am mindful of a quote [to whom I am unable to ascribe authorship because I don’t know who wrote it] ~ perhaps Tiwari?
“Work for a cause, not for applause.
Live life to express, not to impress.
Don’t strive to make your presence noticed,
just make your absence felt.”
Your absence was felt. Glad you provided some enlightenment about where you are with your work, blog, and inner landscape. I was worried that perhaps the IRS forms for 501c3’s did you in :). Carry on, sir and the path will be lit by good intentions.
Annie
More to follow shortly. It’s complicated.