The dangers of false comfort

Ok, so belief in the paranormal, play-medicine and all that kind of stuff is a bit weird, but does it really do any harm? A common defence of your favourite evidence-free proposition is that it gives comfort to people. Is that so bad? I think it is.

Last Friday I visited my GP. I went to the clinic at the local hospital Monday (which is when I’m writing this). Tomorrow, or Tuesday for you, I go/went in for an operation. Wednesday I shall be/became a little closer to Hitler, because I’ve been diagnosed with cancer. If I board a Ryan Air flight for Warsaw in the next week then we may have discovered what caused the Second World War.

There’s plenty of reasons why I can’t really have cancer. I had three close relatives in hospital for operations or observation over the past week. I’ve got a defence of my thesis due at the end of the month. I’ve got other projects which people want me to finish. Currently my doctor’s assuming the worst. That means a CT scan to see if it’s spread and probably precautionary chemotherapy to kill anything the scan may have missed. I’m a bit annoyed. It’s not so much that I object to having cancer. It’s just that it’s really inconvenient to have it now. If I had the choice I’d rather have something else, like a bit of a cold, and schedule having a treatable cancer when I have the retirement plan sorted out. It’s going to play merry hell with my diary.

Given all that I would really like to know that nothing’s wrong, or at least nothing worth bothering about. The best guess is I have one of the most survivable forms of cancer, but even so I’ve never heard of anyone undergoing chemotherapy for larks. Add in that you get people like Ralph Moss saying that 96% of chemotherapy is dangerous and there’s a big incentive to buy into herbal tea, reiki therapy or whatever other snake oil is on offer.

On balance I’m still going with the scalpels and the drugs.

The future doesn’t look like a barrel of laughs, but the doctors at the hospital can point me at the literature where they’ve had to back up their claims. I can read about the results they’re getting. They’re far from perfect and it’s possible I’ve got a rough time ahead, but I can see there’s honesty in their approach.

Ralph Moss in contrast is a tosser. Actually I’m not being fair, my opinion of him is much lower than that. Parasite would be a better word. If there were cosmic justice I can’t help feeling he’d be put in a position where he’d have to follow through his own treatment. I’ve never met the guy so how can I have developed such a deep loathing for him? Well, he markets himself as Dr Ralph Moss. That surely makes him and expert yes? It certainly does. On characterization in Petronius. Petronius is not some nifty drug, he was a Roman novelist. Ralph Moss I could listen to, but Dr Ralph Moss forfeits any respect immediately because his opening gambit is dishonest. His PhD is utterly irrelevant to the expertise he claims. It’d be like me saying that they should take my MPhil in World Archaeology into account when they pick the Welsh squad for the Six Nations. If he’s using sleight of hand in his titles, I can only assume his statistics are equally shifty.

Ralph Moss isn’t unique in this. He’s just one pustule on the acne-infested bottom of humanity. Before I found I had cancer I always thought the sale of false comfort was theft, and theft from those who were particularly vulnerable. Now I’ve got the bad news, I’d still rather take reality than someone else’s fantasy. My future isn’t a concern for your average snake-oil merchant. There’s a plentiful supply of fresh meat to replace those who discover that alternative medicine was ineffective. No-one knows how rapid this turnover is. The Society of Homeopaths in the UK emailed me confirming they don’t keep mortality data. If that’s not an open admission that they’re really none too bothered about whether their clients live or die, I don’t know what is.

The most comforting thought is that if the worst does come to the worst then I can still make a small contribution when I die. The world doesn’t need more alt-med corpses. The lack of documentation means your death is nothing but an end – and it can happen to someone else. Actually finding out what works better and what doesn’t through a scientific process means that things can be improved. My survival is going to be built on the deaths of those who didn’t make it when scientists were trying their hardest. It’s an ugly truth but it does being genuine comfort.

Ok, the rules. Questions are fine but no sympathy. It’s not a trivial as a broken leg, but it’s very likely I’ll have a perfectly healthy life after treatment. It’s mainly a convenient way of saying I why blogging may be irregular. All posts till today have been scheduled, but if there’s no post on Monday then you know I’m feeling a bit unwell. There’s plenty of worse things to have. I’ll be really annoyed if I discover it has spread and it is terminal because the banks have stopped giving away large unsecured loans.