That recent news of this young woman, who committed a series of frauds by pretending that she has cancer, has evoked a range of deep painful emotions in thousands, probably even millions of people who have been touched by this dreadful disease.
She was previously charged with three acts of fraud below five thousand dollars each and an additional case of more than five thousand dollars.
Those charges do not reflect the gravity of her offence. This young woman, in her self preoccupation did not realize the wound she would create, and open wounds that have already healed or in the process of healing.
It is a wonder that she did not realize when she first started this horrible crime that she had willing victims because they, these people who gave money and encouraged their families and friends to join in supporting her were doing this act of generosity, to reach out with their hearts to someone they thought had been another victim of the scourge for indeed, most people would agree with he, that when on e learns that he or she has cancer, the suffering even with out the physical pain is a punishment you would not wish to your worst enemy.
Cancer affects not only the one afflicted but the whole family and the circle of friends. The shadow of eminent death looms as one with his family fights bravely to survive the disease.
Some kinds do not take very long like cancer of the pancreas which may just make the patient last a few months but others take several long years of suffering, undergoing painful therapy, hoping and praying to survive.
My first experience with cancer was with a very dear aunt, my godmother, who did not even get the necessary medication because of lack of financial capabilities. Unlike now, wherein the patient in the terminal stage is given pain killers, my godmother died screaming in pain. For days, he was begging God to take her. People were gathered around her bed praying. I wonder if that scene is still being repeated in some nipa huts in rural areas in the Philippines.
Recently, I had a very dear friend who succumbed to cancer; she had a breast operation in 2002. She was a very active and committed worker in her church and in community organizations. She was dearly loved by her family and friends.
After recuperating from the operation, she emerged herself again in her work and in her community activities. But the disease was still there and, all the recent modern medications did not work in her.
I have another friend who is at present valiantly fighting the disease through radiation and chemotherapy. This friend is a very sweet person, calm and cheerful. I have never heard a complaint at all from her. She is very optimistic that she will survive this ailment. The only glimpse that I got from her about her innermost feelings was when she expressed her worry about who would look after her husband when she goes.
One can write a book of stories of heroism of individuals who had contracted cancer or members of the families and friends who had organized gigantic projects to raise funds to help victims and research for cure. Terry Fox is at the top of the list in Canada. I am sure there are countless cases of heroisms of husbands and wives who were left to raise children orphaned at an early age, of elder parents who lost their children who were their caregivers, of parents of children coming from out of town, living at Ronald MacDonald’s House while their children are being treated at Sick Kids Hospital.
I shall never forget one memorable night during my early days in Canada in the 70’s. I worked as supervisor of a student residence in downtown Toronto. The place had several rooms for families of patients at nearby hospitals. There was a lady, probably in her forties who stayed in the place while her husband was in hospital with cancer. She spent her time in the hospital all day and just came back to the residence at dinner time.
We sort of became close when she would drop in by my office in the evening before going to bed and we would have little talks. She and her husband were professionals without family, who had been married for twelve years. They had no children. They were very close to each other, very dependent on each other.
One evening, she did not come back to the residence at the usual hour. I got worried and called the hospital. I was told that she was still there but I could not get more information because I was not next of kin. I left word at the desk to call me when she came in.
The clerk at the desk called me at about one in the morning telling me that she came and she looked distressed. I went down to see her. She was there, pale and very quiet. She asked if I could accompany her. She wanted to go for a walk.
Downtown Toronto was very bright with a number of stores open. We talked quietly for a while and she told me that her husband had died that night. She did not cry. She started telling me how good a man he was. She told me little instances on how good his sense of humor was. We walked a long time and she kept on talking pouring out the contents of her heart and I walked with her and listened.
We passed by a café and sat down and she continued talking, with me just giving a few responses to show I was listening. It was about four when we returned to the residence. She told me she was leaving in the morning. The hospital would have her husband’s body transported to the town they came from.
I was with her in the morning before she drove away. She must have cried when she went to bed. She told me not to worry; there would be friends, she had already called who would be with her when she reached home.
I cried after she had left. I did not cry for her husband who was already with God. I cried for this lonely lady who emptied her heart to a stranger, a lady I surmise had all the material needs in her life, secure but had to face life alone.
I was not exempted from the terrible experience of having the disease. I had breast cancer in 1989. I went through a lumpectomy and radiations. I did not suffer much physical pain from the disease but I found radiations very difficult and my flesh was burned at the end of the treatment. What was agonizing was the thought of how close death is.
The whole experience changed my life and my way of thinking. I became a person in a hurry to accomplish my goals. The thought that I would soon leave this world gave me courage to be more outspoken about my views on things. I became more appreciative of my surroundings and the acts of kindness and thoughtfulness of family and friends.
I am one of the fortunate ones who survived the disease. At the time when I had it, my niece who was born in Canada was in the sixth grade. I thought I would not see her graduate from elementary school. But I was there when she completed her elementary education, high school and university. She is now married and I am enjoying her fifteen month old baby. My youngest sister came to Canada with her husband and three children and they are now all established with their own homes and families.
I think the experience with this disease has made me more appreciative of my blessings in life. I feel sorry for this girl who had belittled the sufferings of throngs of people by making some of them her means for accomplishing her selfish ends.
It is hoped that her present predicaments would open her eyes to the gravity of her offense and be able to relate to the sufferings of those who actually contracted the disease.****